“I love you, Mikhail,” she promised as she began to unbutton my shirt, kissing along my jawline. “And I always will.”
Smiling, at peace despite the lust coursing through me with her touch, I held her close. “I love you, too,” I vowed with all my heart and soul.
40
CLAIRE
Two weeks later…
“Claire?” Martin called out from the front foyer.
I paused while walking by from the kitchen, where Mikhail and Anya were still finishing up lunch.
“Yeah?” I detoured to go back to the butler. He seemed less like hired help and more like a friend with every passing day. Living here was a work in progress. Getting used to the staff, the wealth, the luxury, and the armed presence of guards wasn’t a simple adjustment.
But so far, it was going well.
“Where would you like these?” He stepped aside to indicate the boxes that had been delivered.
“Oh.” I frowned, not sure where to put the excess supplies.
Since I’d made my choice to stay with Mikhail, I had become the de facto doctor on the premises. I wasn’t a pawn or a serviceprovider. I was merely an idle mind and a skilled physician with a need for patients.
I dislikedwhythe Orlov men needed medical assistance, but I never shied away from being able to help.
“I don’t know. Where could they go?” I asked him, since he was the most familiar with the layout of the building. “Those boxes are backup supplies.”
I wasn’t going to designate a room or floor to be an urgent care clinic. No surgeries—nothing in depth, at least—would be happening here. With an ultrasound machine, I felt equipped for assessing anyone who had been hurt. But I drew the line at ever attempting surgery without the right tools, no X-rays without setting up a proper room for that kind of exposure.
“It can go to storage, then,” he said of the boxes of gauzes, wraps, splints, and even cast materials. Whatever I couldn’t handle, we “outsourced” to another hospital. Not the one I used to work at. Even then, once I had the correct scans or diagnostics, I could cast whoever needed anything here.
Seeing all the supplies had me pausing for a longer moment, though. Martin asked men to move the boxes and glanced at me. “Is there anything else you’d like with this delivery?”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head, snapping out of my thoughts. It was strange to see it all and remember that I sort of was working. Not officially, but still staying busy.
But I’ll be even busier soon.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to arrange for your office?” he asked.
I smiled sweetly.Maybe… put a raincheck on that whole thing?“Nope. I’m good.”
Mikhail explained a few days ago that he wanted me to feel free to do anything I wanted in my downtime, which could sometimes be lengthy when he was busy. When he expressed worry that I’d regret giving up my career, he was eager to help me set up a telehealth service, a private practice run by me. Just when I couldn’t imagine loving him any more, he had to go and do something like that, to go overboard and prove that he valued me and wouldn’t dismissmygoals.
I went along with the plans to start a business here, to virtually offer medical advice. It wouldn’t be the same as contributing in person, on a chaotic emergency room floor with a full staff, but then again, I had hands-on experience patching up the Orlov men here.
No expenses were spared. I had an office. I had new computers and tech gear. Mikhail’s legal team was assisting me with all the documents and filings I would need to practice. It was a big project, one that would take a while, but I wondered if I even wanted it anymore.
If I’d have time to juggle starting up my own gig when another, much bigger “project” loomed in my future.
I pressed my hand to my flat stomach and smiled as I walked back to the kitchen where I’d left Mikhail and Anya, realizing I’d left my water in there.
Just last night, I gave in and took a pregnancy test. We’d been gambling all this time with the chances that I could be pregnant. Sure enough, my missed period wasn’t a fluke. The pregnancy test was positive, and I wondered how everyone would react.
Standing at the doorway as I watched Mikhail and Anya talk at the table, I crossed my arms and smiled. They were slowly opening up to each other, acting more like father and daughter instead of enemies in the same residence.
If Anya had come here as a young girl, I bet she wouldn’t have been so hard to win over. As a teen, already rebellious and opinionated—and scared—she was a tougher nut to crack.
I felt the impact of my guidance on her when she tagged along with me, asked me questions, and invited me to spend time with her. We were no longer only friends, but more like family. And it warmed my heart to see the evidence of Mikhail and Anya both finding a common ground to be closer.
