by Roxie Rivera
"If he could be here," Sergei said gently, but she didn't let him finish.
"I know." Resignation darkened her voice. Her eyes turned so cold that he felt the iciness deep in his soul. Plastering a fake smile into place, she grabbed the leather messenger bag she loved so much. "Tell Yuri we're ready to go. London's calling."
His stomach twisted as he realized that she was changing—and not for the better. The idea that there might not be a happy ending for the couple whose lives had seemed fated to cross left him feeling hollow and raw. He had never wanted to hold and kiss Bianca more.
Never, he swore silently as he returned to Yuri and Ivan. I will never make Bianca feel like that. I will never let her doubt her importance to me.
He noticed the curious looks the women exchanged as they realized Nikolai wasn't coming with them on this leg of the journey. Yuri muttered under his breath as they made their way to the jet waiting on the tarmac. Sergei didn't hear all of it, but what he did catch assured him that Nikolai would be getting an earful from his friend once he finally made his way to London.
Ten lingered on the tarmac until he saw Vivian disappear into the plane. Sergei had to give credit where it was due. He might be rough around the edges, but Ten was taking good care of Vivian. If it hadn't been for the travel restrictions that were part of his release, Ten probably would have gone with them.
When they settled into their plush seats aboard one of Yuri's private jets, Sergei reached for Bianca's hand and interlaced their fingers. He couldn't see Vivian from their position in the cabin, and he wondered if he should let Bianca go sit with her. As if reading his mind, Bianca squeezed his hand and shook her head. "She wants to be alone."
"Not for the entire flight," he murmured.
"No," she agreed. "We'll take care of her. Don't worry."
"I can't help it. It was my job to worry about her. I can't simply turn that off."
She lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of his. "That's because you're a good man."
Holding her gaze, he said, "Bianca, if I ever make you feel—"
"You'll know it," she promised with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Glad they were on the same page, he chuckled softly and leaned back against the surprisingly roomy seat. The last time he had flown across the Atlantic, he had been stuffed into a coach seat. Thankfully he had been able to grab a spot in an exit row, but even that extra bit of leg room had barely made the flight tolerable. Tonight would be different.
Bianca's quip about living like the one-percent proved true. After take-off, an incredible meal was served. Flight attendants catered to their every need. The bathrooms were three or four times the size of the ones found on commercial flights. Once dinner was finished, he settled into a section of the plane modeled after a media room to watch a baseball game with Yuri and Ivan.
His gaze skipped toward the front of the aircraft every now and then to check on Bianca and Vivian. The women were sitting together playing poker. By the size of the stacks of chips in front of her, Lena was winning every round. Vivian seemed to be in second place and Bianca wasn't far behind in third. Poor Erin had a tiny stack of chips left.
On his way to grab a bottle of water, Ivan seemed to notice the sad state of Erin's game. Taking pity on her, he crouched down beside her and slid an arm around her waist, hauling her closer so he could study her cards. He nuzzled her neck and whispered strategy in her ear.
Or maybe not strategy, Sergei thought with some amusement as Erin's ears and neck flushed a scarlet shade. Later that evening, when they reclined in their seats under warm blankets and caught some much needed sleep, he pretended not to notice when Erin first left her seat to use the restroom and then Ivan a few minutes later. He didn't blame Ivan one bite for wanting to cross that one off his bucket list. When the couple returned a long time later, he smirked knowingly and burrowed down deeper under his blanket.
They landed early the next morning to a surprisingly sunny and beautiful London day. Yuri had taken care of all the transportation arrangements. After clearing customs, they were whisked away from the airport to the oligarch's outrageously opulent Knightsbridge penthouse that spanned the top floor of a historic mansion. When they had been planning their trip, Bianca had mentioned that Yuri's London home was nearly ten thousand square feet of prime real estate. He couldn't even begin to comprehend how pricey that must have been. Tens of millions of pounds, he was sure.
But it was beautiful. The Victorian era mansion had been restored to period detail on the outside but the interior was a different story. The penthouse apartment had been redone with clean modern lines and open, bright spaces. There was a quarry's worth of white and black marble across the six bedrooms and seven bathrooms. He didn't particularly care for the interior design choices that had been made, but he could appreciate the way the space flowed from one room to the next.
As they enjoyed breakfast on the rooftop terrace, he thought of Bianca's Queen Anne home and the improvements they were making during the slow restoration process. She had wanted to stay true to the home's origins, and he agreed with that. The master bathroom they had recently completed was true to the period with modern tweaks.
He suddenly thought of the nursery they would soon have to decorate. He assumed they would turn the guest room next door to the master suite into their baby's room. Thinking of the wall that existed between the rooms, he wondered if a door might be possible there. It would make it easier to reach the baby in the middle of the night. As overprotective as he was with Bianca, he was probably going to be a nervous wreck once they had a baby in the house. To have an open door between their bed and the crib might be the best thing for his nerves.
When he caught Bianca yawning after breakfast, he thanked Yuri and Lena for their hospitality and excused them from the activities the other couples and Vivian had planned for their first day in London. Traveling across time zones was hard enough without being pregnant. Safely tucked into the back seat of a cab, he slid his arm around Bianca's shoulders and kissed her temple. "Why don't we spend the rest of the day in bed?"
She shot him a mischievous smile. "Knowing you, I doubt I'll get much sleep."
He drew an X over his heart. "I promise I'll be a good boy and keep my hands to myself."
She ran her hand up along the denim covering his thigh and came dangerously close to touching his cock. "Not too good of a boy, I hope."
With a low growl, he warned her not to test him in the back seat of the cab. She smirked and kept her hand right there, just inches from the throbbing heat trapped behind denim. By the time they reached the hotel, he was fucking aching for her. Somehow he managed to force down his erection so he could actually get out of the cab and oversee the transfer of their luggage from the cab to the bellhop's trolley. Once inside the lobby, Bianca handled their check-in.
He stood behind her, silently observing the bustling scene surrounding them. While she requested extra keys for his mother and brother who would be joining them he next day, Sergei heard the happy squeals of two young children. They seemed out of place in the lobby of the four-star hotel, and he zeroed in on the grinning, sticky faces of two preschool aged girls darting in and out of the crowd. They were the cute kids.
My baby will look like that. The thought hit him right in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. The little girls were mixed race with skin like honey and dark curly hair pulled into pigtails that bounced as they ran circles around a column. Their harried mother, a thirty-something blonde, finally caught up with them, but it was their smiling father, a man who could have easily been part of Bianca's family, who swung them up in his arms and playfully nibbled at their necks.
"You okay?" Bianca rubbed his arm and drew him out of his thoughts. Her gaze settled on the family that gave them a glimpse at their future. Smiling, she said, "Cute."
"Very," he agreed and slid his arm around her back. Side by side, they walked to the elevator with the bellhop not far behind. If they had been alone in t
he elevator, he would have pushed her up against the gleaming gold wall and pressed his knee between her thighs while ravishing her mouth. Seeing the family that resembled theirs had done something primal to him. If she hadn't already been pregnant, he damned well would have wanted to change that.
On edge and fueled with lust, he barely managed to hold onto his patience while the bellhop unloaded their bags. He shoved a handful of foreign notes at the man and thanked him before herding him out the door and locking it behind him. By the time he found Bianca in the bedroom, she had already stripped down to her bra and panties.
"You know," she said slowly, her movements vixenish and enticing, "it occurred to me when I saw that family down in the lobby that this is probably the only vacation we'll ever take without kids."
Awestruck by the delicious sight before him, Sergei stood perfectly still and watched her reach back to unsnap her bra. When her luscious breasts were bared to him, he raked his teeth against his lower lip. After quickly toeing off his shoes, he crossed the distance between them in five quick strides and swept her up into his arms. He deposited her onto the middle of the fancy hotel bed and crawled over her.
In between kisses that left her breathless and giggling, he said, "Then we had better make the most of it…"
Chapter Five
My stomach did wild flips as I tried to pay attention to the movie. I couldn’t tell if it was morning sickness or nervousness. It was probably both. The jet lag had worsened my pregnancy fatigue and made me more queasy than usual. So far, I'd managed to keep our secret, but I had a feeling the truth was going to be out before the end of this trip. One whiff of stinky perfume or cologne at the wrong time, and all of our friends would piece together the clues when I went running from the room.
Hugging a throw pillow, Vivian sat next to me on the couch in the hotel suite while we waited for Sergei to return from the airport with his brother and mother. She had said that she wanted to be here for moral support and to help with any translation issues that might arise if Sergei and Vladimir wanted to talk alone and leave me with his mother, but I sensed she really just didn't want to be the third wheel at Yuri and Lena's place. Not that they ever would have made her feel that way, but it couldn't have been easy for her.
Nikolai still hadn't made it to London. Even Sergei didn't know the details of what was keeping him in Houston. Whatever it was, it must have been serious or dangerous or dangerously serious. I hadn't had the heart to ask Vivian if her husband would be here in time for her Friday night show. I hoped so. For her sake and his.
"Do you want to grab lunch tomorrow? I was thinking of visiting some shops and seeing some of the fashion hotspots while Sergei does some things with his family."
She shook her head and picked at the fringe on the throw pillow. "I would love to go, but I've already promised Niels that I'd let him take me to some art galleries and a late lunch."
"Oh." I wondered if that was such a good idea. Vivian was obviously feeling vulnerable and hurt right now, and Niels? Well, the obscenely rich Dane who had taken it upon himself to open doors into the international art scene for her had made it plainly clear to anyone with eyes that he wasn't just interested in her paintings. She played it off as nothing, and I'm sure to her it was. She loved Nikolai and probably couldn't fathom ever entertaining the affection of another man, but Niels? He had a certain reputation, and it made me nervous to think my emotionally wounded friend would be alone with him for any amount of time.
"Why don't we do something on Thursday?" she suggested. "Maybe we could see if Lena and Erin want to come?"
"Sure. That sounds nice."
"I'll call them tomorrow and make arrangements."
We were talking about some of the shops we wanted to visit when the door of the suite beeped twice and started to open. I practically jumped to my feet. Anxiety rushed through me, made my belly lurch and my chest tighten. Rising more slowly, Vivian stood next to me and gently clasped my hand. She pumped my fingers with hers and winked reassuringly. I relaxed at the knowledge that she would guide me through this first meeting with Sergei's mother.
A man who could have been Sergei's twin sauntered through the door carrying small wrapped gifts. He shared the same dark hair and dark eyes and the giant frame of his elder brother. His friendly grin immediately set me at ease. There was a telltale bump in his nose that told me it had been broken, probably more than once. Apparently fighting was in the Sakharov family's blood.
The woman who followed Vladimir was shorter than I had expected. I had seen photos of Galina Sakharovna, of course, but Vladimir and Sergei had always been sitting on either side of her. She shared their dark hair and eyes but had a much lighter, willowy build. This close, I realized she was younger than my mother which surprised me considering her children were all older. Like Mama, she had a flair for style and looked perfectly coiffed and dressed despite the four hour flight.
A faint smile curved Galina's bright red mouth. Vivian had warned me that customs were different between our two cultures. Unlike Mama, Sergei's mother wasn't going to call me honey and welcome me with a hug and sweet tea. The smile she cast my way wasn't much, but I figured it was a start, however shaky.
Radiating happiness, Sergei swept into the living room and gathered me close with a brawny arm. In a whirlwind of introductions, I was enveloped in a bear hug by Vladimir. He kissed both my cheeks and said something in rapid fire Russian that I couldn't understand. As if sensing my confusion, he said, "You're even prettier than Sergei described."
"Oh." I blushed. "Thank you."
He handed me one of the wrapped gifts. "I think you'll like these."
"I'm sure I will." The box wasn't very heavy, and it was the right size for chocolates or candy.
He stepped aside to greet Vivian with more reserve. She air-kissed his cheeks and spoke softly to him. He presented her with the other box, and she thanked him.
Sergei's mother stepped forward and tepidly embraced me. Galina gazed upon my face and smiled more warmly. "Yes. Very pretty."
"Spasibo."
Her expression softened, but she turned her attention to Vivian now. I didn't miss the way his mother seemed to practically beam as Vivian chatted her up. I envied the easy way they spoke but hoped that in time she might see me the same way. After everything Lidia and Ten had warned me about, meeting his mother hadn't been nearly as awkward or upsetting as I had expected.
The room service order I had arranged arrived not long after Sergei and his family. We all sat down in the dining area of the suite and enjoyed a nice dinner. Vivian and I sat on either side of Galina, and Vivi jumped in to translate whenever necessary.
"Your dress shop is busy?" Galina pushed her spoon through the creamy custard flecked with bits of saffron. Considering we both worked in the same field, me a designer and her a seamstress, I wasn't surprised she asked after something we could both understand. Hopefully we might even bond over it.
"Yes, ma'am. We have a minimum of four bridal consultants on the floor every day. They take six to eight appointments each. We sold just over six thousand dresses last year."
"Six thousand!" Sergei's mother seemed stunned. "So many?"
"Bianca's shop is one of the best in Texas," Vivian interjected. "Her mother built the business, and Bianca took over when she had a stroke."
"Your mother is better now?"
I nodded. "Yes. She's doing very well."
"This is good."
"You know," Vivian added deftly, "Bianca designed my wedding dress. She also designed Erin's. You'll meet her tomorrow. She's Ivan's wife." Vivian retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and started to swipe through photos. "See? This is Erin's wedding to Ivan. She was a beautiful bride, wasn’t she?"
"Very," Galina agreed.
Vivian smiled. "The dress was perfect, all lace and fluttery and feminine."
Galina turned to me. "You went to school for this?"
"I did. In New York."
"I like this…" Galina
seemed to be thinking of a word she couldn't find. She spoke a phrase to Vivian who promptly answered, "Silhouette."
"Yes, I like this silhouette." She took the phone from Vivian and held it closer for me to inspect. "Do you design many like this?"
"Maybe a third of my designs are sheaths. They look good on everyone, and they're lighter and more comfortable for those hot summer weddings in Texas. I'm doing more mermaids this year." I made the shape of the skirt with my hands. "They're very popular, especially with beading and lace."
Galina made an agreeing sound. "Yes, but difficult for girls with hips." She drew a heavy hourglass in the air. I didn't miss the way her gaze drifted to my own thick waist and bottom. "Pleats and tucking, this helps."
"Oh, I have quite a bit of experience with hiding curves behind ruching," I said with a laugh. "I mastered that trick in high school."
She smiled at me before glancing back at the phone. Vivian had taken it back and had pulled up photos from her own wedding. Galina studied them. She murmured sweetly to Vivian, no doubt praising her beauty. Eventually, she turned to me with a genuine expression and complimented my work. "You are very talented, Bianca."
Across the table, Sergei winked at me. We shared a tender, private smile. It filled me with hope. She might learn to like me yet.
Dinner ended on a happy note, and I walked downstairs to the lobby to see Vivian into the private car Yuri sent round for her. The journey back to our suite took longer than I had expected. The elevators were packed and busy, but I was in no hurry so I let others cram into the cars and waited. After eating a heavy meal, my stomach wasn't feeling very good, and I worried that the heat and swirling scents of other people would upset my belly. It was safer for everyone if I held back until the crowd thinned.
Eventually, I stepped into a car and hit the button for my floor. The ride was quick. When I reached the door of our suite, I heard the raised voices. With my card poised at the lock, I held my breath and listened carefully. I couldn't understand a word that was spoken, but I easily picked out Sergei's voice and his mother's. They were arguing about something.
