“A cabbage.”
“Maybe not her exact words.”
Amusement twinkles in his eyes. His gaze flicks to the baby, then back to me. “And you?”
“I’m good, too.” I pause for effect. “All healed up. Cleared for everything.”
His face darkens a fraction. Not with anger, but something thicker. “Everything?”
“Everything.”
Behind us, Luka clears his throat. “I’m gonna go see if Anya needs any help with the… stove,” he mutters before quickly scurrying away.
Petyr and I stay like that. I can feel the way the air between us shifts. “That’s good to hear,” he says finally. His voice is huskier now. Almost hoarse.
He steps closer. His hand brushes a stray strand of hair from my face. My heart picks up, unable to keep still when Petyr’s hands are on me, even if they’re just fixing my hair.
Though we both know that’s not what he’s really doing. “You sure you’re feeling up for it?”
“Sure am.” I try to sound casual, even though I’m slowly melting into a puddle. “It’s the healthy thing to do. Doctor’s orders, right?”
His lips twitch with amusement again. “Later,” he says, and takes the baby carrier from me. “For now, you should rest.”
His tone is soft, but I know what’s beneath it: a dark, heated impatience, edged with anticipation.
And I can’t deny the spark of nerves that runs through me. The excitement that tangles with worry in my gut.
Because I know exactly whatlatermeans.
After dinner, the house goes still. Lilia’s asleep in her bassinet, her little breaths soft and steady. The quiet hum of the baby monitor fills the room as I look at myself in the bathroom mirror.
I haven’t used any of the lingerie Petyr bought me since I’ve been back. There hasn’t really been any occasion. Any sex we’ve had has been impulsive, a thing of want and greed neither one of us could control.
Tonight, it’s different.
I blink at my reflection. I’m not sure why I feel like a circus clown, but I do. I’m not used to being dolled up. Haven’t really had any reason to do so before Petyr, and after… he never really had the patience to wait for me to do so.
Not that I minded.
Nerves spark under my skin as I stare at myself. The lace feels foreign on my body. After months of only wearing Walmart’s finest cotton blends down there, it feels odd to have scratchy, beautiful fabric covering me.
Well,almostcovering me.
My gaze snags on the stretch marks on my belly. An unwelcome reminder that my body isn’t what it used to be. There are faint lines where there weren’t before, softer curves, small scars that remind me what I went through to bring our daughter into the world. I try not to think about it too much.
I linger in the doorway for a moment. My heart pounds.
Then I step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
Petyr is standing by the bed, his shirt half-undone. He always looks like the dictionary definition of “genetic lottery winner,” but tonight, just seeing him makes my breaths short and quick.
Maybe it’s because I knew I couldn’t have him the way I wanted him while I was still recovering. I conditioned myself, taught myself not to look too hard. Because if I did, the desire would be unbearable.
His gaze fixes on me. Surprise flashes for a second in his eyes.
I decide to act before I’ve lost all my nerve.
The silk robe slides against my skin as I loosen the sash before letting it fall open. Beneath it, the lingerie I picked is black lace. Simple, but elegant. One of his gifts to me.
