“Would you like to check?” I asked, taking a slice of rye bread.
“I will, but later,” he said, leaning into his chair.
His hand rested on my thigh and I swallowed, but he didn't move. He sat there watching me eat. There was something growing between us. That soft glint he reserved only for Runa was in his eyes, but she wasn't in the room.
It made my heart skip a beat and it had nothing to do with the plug in my ass.
“Tell Bogdan he’s forgiven. For now,” I said, returning my focus to my food.
“Lucky him,” he murmured.
I turned his words over in my mind before dismissing them. The past was painful on many fronts and I had made my adjustments before coming back. My children were my future.
“I was thinking of inviting my family for lunch,” I said, changing the subject.
“Why not dinner?” he asked, his thumb moving slowly over my thigh.
“I wanted them to see Runa,” I said, feeling a little guilty.
Family was family, regardless of unaddressed issues. The story of my life, it seemed. Easier to bury than to face.
“Okay. Let me know when,” he said, patting my thigh before finishing his tea.“I’d better check on Runa.”
I watched him stand, my eyes moving over the tattoos on his fingers before settling on the wedding band.
“Will you tell them about the baby?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“I want to wait until it’s safe,” I said, lowering my eyes.
Hope and happiness came with a touch of fear.
Plus Galina would be there with her evil eye.
Chapter 80
Vadim
They were both asleep and I was lying next to them, itching for them to wake up. My hand hadn’t left her belly—I could still feel the gentle swell beneath my palm. For the third time, my wife’s belly would grow. This time I would be present for all of it.
I snuggled closer to Runa, who had woken not long ago for a quick feed and cuddle. When I’d tried to lift her she had made it clear she was not letting go of Iskra’s nipple. I didn’t fight her. I knew how she felt.
But now here I was—proof beyond doubt that our child nestled below her mother’s heart.
I gently kissed my daughter’s head, listening to her breathing, and fixed the covers around her to make sure she was clear of the quilt.
Even as my eyes began to droop, I was already planning the day with the fourth member of our family in mind.
??????
Her hair smelled of something warm and floral—shampoo and cold air combined—and the wind kept carrying it toward me no matter where I positioned myself. I moved in behind her, letting her feel what her proximity did to me, and adjusted her arms for the targets lined along the far wall. Once her stance was correct I rested my hands on her waist and stayed there.
She groaned.
“Why don’t you let someone else teach me to shoot?”
She wasn’t wrong. The shooting range sat at the east edge of the compound—open air, grey sky, the smell of gunpowder and frozen ground—and I had spent the last twenty minutes pressing myself against my pregnant wife instead of improving her aim. How exactly rubbing my erection between her ass cheeks was going to help her hit a bottle was a question I chose not to examine.
