He makes a sound as if he isn’t convinced. I bump my shoulder against his. “Are you telling me, you would’ve rescued me out of the goodness of your heart?”
Roman nudges me back. He smiles, brushing the back of his hand along my cheek. “Maybe. Guess we’ll never know.”
“Guess not.” I grin. “Know what else we’ll never know, how good that rice could’ve been. We turned it off too early.”
He laughs. “It was better than the last one you made. You’re the one who told me to turn it off. I didn’t hear you complaining after.”
“That’s because I got something much better.”
Roman groans. “Fuck, Nala. You can’t say things like that and expect me to stay out here. Ten minutes, then we’re going back inside.”
“Roman,” I whisper, remembering something else.
He leans his head back, giving me a look of warning. “Choose your next words carefully, or I swear I’m dragging you inside and ripping that coat off.”
“The first time we had sex, you said there might be a baby.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“You come inside me all the time now. Does that mean youdowant to have a baby with me?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Roman lets out a sigh then looks over at me and nods. “Yeah. I do.”
My breath stops for a second. I’m not sure what answer I expected; I just figured he didn’t care if I got pregnant or not.
“Did you ever think about kids? In any of your fantasies?”
I shake my head. “No. I never thought of that.”
Roman nods, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah. I made sure I didn’t get anyone pregnant. Not something I wanted to deal with. I didn’t want to be tied to a woman I probably couldn’t stand, with a kid I didn’t ask for or want.” Roman shakes his head. “That would be me becoming my father.”
“But if we have a baby, you’ll love it too, right?”
“I will,” he says without hesitation. “Because it’s coming from you.” His finger brushes my lips. “I love you.I accept you’re going to make me a father. I want that.”
“Roman Ivanov’s woman,” he says huskily. “Always pregnant because she can’t keep her legs closed for him.” His gaze holds mine. “That’s you,pchyolka.How it’s going to be. I’ll keep you—and our children— safe. That’s a promise.”
“That only works if you promise not to leave me. I don’t want to use that passport unless we’re going somewhere together.”
“I promise.”
“You don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t.”
“We can go in now,” I whisper, needing to be as close to him as possible, now more than ever.
Inside the cottage, the warmth rushes over me, making my cheeks feel like they’re melting.
Roman shakes his head, helping me out of my coat. “I’m starting to think you truly love the cold.”
“I do,” I tell him, smirking. “Now that you’ve taught me how to stay warm.”
He tilts my chin up with one finger and kisses me, pulls back, gazes at me, then kisses me again. I lean into him, my hands sliding into his hair. He groans into my mouth, his hands moving to my hips, pulling me closer.
My fingers tighten in his hair, vaguely aware of him walking us backward until his legs hit the couch. He sits, taking me with him. I straddle his lap, my hands still in his hair, deepening the kiss.
His hands slip beneath my sweater, warm and rough against my skin as they move up my back. I shiver despite the heat between us. I grind on him, feeling how hard he is through his pants.
