Strong hands pull my hair back from my face. Aleksandr's voice is low and soothing in my ear, but I can't focus on the words. Can't focus on anything except the way my body is betraying me.
When it finally stops, I straighten slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My legs shake, and Aleksandr's arm goes around my waist, holding me up.
I turn to look at him, and my heart stops.
He's watching me with an expression I can't quite read. His gold eyes move over my face, down to my stomach, then back up to meet my gaze. There's calculation there, intelligence working through a puzzle, and I see the exact moment the pieces click into place.
He knows.
46
ALEKSANDR
Iwatch Lena wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, her body still trembling from the violent bout of nausea. My arm stays locked around her waist, holding her upright while my mind races through calculations and confirmations.
She's pregnant.
The knowledge settles in my chest like a stone, heavy and undeniable. Every sign has been there for weeks. The morning sickness she tried to pass off as flu. The way she's been avoiding certain foods. The exhaustion that makes her fall asleep curled against my side before nine o'clock. The slight fullness in her breasts.
I've been waiting for her to tell me. Giving her space to come to terms with it herself before sharing the news. But watching her vomit in John Davis's driveway, seeing the fear flash across her face when she realizes I've connected the dots, I know the waiting is over.
"Let's get you to the hotel," I say quietly, guiding her toward the SUV.
"We're not going back to the city?" she asks with surprise.
I shake my head. "Not tonight."
She doesn't argue, just lets me help her into the back seat. Danil catches my eye over the roof of the vehicle, his expression questioning, but I shake my head slightly. Not now. Not here.
The hotel is the nicest place in town, which isn't saying much. Two stories, maybe forty rooms, with a restaurant attached and a view of the mountains that probably looks better in summer. I send Danil ahead to check us in while I help Lena out of the SUV.
"I can walk," she protests, but her legs are still shaky.
"I know you can." I keep my arm around her waist anyway. "Humor me."
Danil hands me two key cards when we reach the lobby. "You and Lena are in 212. I'm in 214. The guards are sharing 210."
Lena's head snaps up. "One room?"
"One room," I confirm, guiding her toward the elevator.
She frowns but doesn't argue. But as soon as we get into our room, she rounds on me. "What's going on?"
I raise an eyebrow at her. "You tell me."
Her face flushes but she stubbornly presses her lips together.
"You're pregnant," I say matter-of-factly, watching the color drain from her face. "When were you going to tell me?"
I lock the door behind us and engage the deadbolt. Lena moves to the window, staring out at the parking lot and the mountains beyond.
"I should shower," she says quietly. "I probably smell like vomit."
She doesn't give me a chance to argue before rushing into the bathroom. A second later, I hear the faucets turn on and the sound of water filling the shower.
The shower runs for twenty minutes. When Lena finally emerges, she's wearing sleep pants and a tank top that were in her bag, her blonde hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. She looks younger like this, vulnerable, and something in my chest cracks at the sight.
"Feel better?" I ask.
