Page 40 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

I scowled at him, but was failing to resist his charm. It was his money he was throwing away, and really, it wasn’t like the wine would actually rot. Maybe I could convince him in a month or two, after the grand opening. I let myself be pulled into his arms and tipped my head down so he wouldn’t see my smile as he nuzzled the top of my head.

“I’ll agree to pause the conversation about that poor Cabernet not getting an opportunity to be enjoyed,” I said, smiling harder as laughter vibrated his chest.

“That’s no fun,” he said, his hand sliding up my back to tug on my hair so I’d look up at him.

“You really do try to fight me on purpose,” I accused. With his hands moving into my hair and his chin dipping down toward me, I couldn’t say I cared at the moment.

Just one kiss. It had been a long time, and I was certain I had my cravings under control. This wasn’t going to be like the last time I went on a health kick and then binged on chocolate cake after giving it up for six months. I could handle one small taste.

His mouth touched down gently, his hands cupping the sides of my face. I stepped in closer so our bodies touched, his chest hard and warm against mine. I was already on the verge of being too hot. Letting my head fall back, he kissed me more deeply, already going past one tiny taste.

His tongue darted out to part my lips, and I sighed, gripping the front of his shirt. As quickly as the kiss started, it was over, with Mik being the one to pull away.

“That was unexpected,” he said, looking as profoundly disappointed as I felt. “But, about dinner…”

I groaned. “Please don’t say we’re going out with your family again.” At his frown, I quickly added, “They’re great, but I already ate enough for a week at lunch, and then they ran me ragged through six different shops.”

“Those women are Olympic-level shoppers,” he said fondly. “But no, we’re not going out. I am. I promised my brother that I’d help him out with something.”

“Can I do anything?” I asked, hoping he’d include me so I could get a glimpse of what he might be doing on all the nights he was out. I completely forgot how tired I was supposed to be.

“That’s sweet,” he said. “But it’s going to be boring and maybe dirty.”

“Like, dirt from the ground or are you going to a strip joint?” I was only half joking.

“He’s looking at fixer-upper properties down near the beach.”

“Want me to wait up for you?” I asked.

What was I doing? My curiosity was going to get me in trouble. I reminded myself firmly that he stopped kissing me, so he clearly knew it was a bad idea to start. Putting on a show in front of his family or the other employees was one thing. There was no reason at all for us to get so cozy when we were alone.

“Better not,” he said, closing off again. “It’ll probably be late.”

I recognized that look. The subject was closed. I ate a pear for dinner, not exaggerating about how much I ate at lunch, then hung around in the media room, flipping through channels and starting movies, only to give up on them fifteen minutes in. Was I curious or worried?

And if I was worried, about what?

I finally dozed off on the big leather couch and dragged myself to bed. The next morning, Mik had either gone in early or not returned home at all, so I headed out on my own. The same driver as the evening before was waiting around near my car, and hopped into the driver’s seat as soon as he saw me come out.

“You don’t have to drive me,” I said, searching the recesses of my mind for his name. “Piotr, right?”

He nodded twice. “Yes, I do. And don’t say it’s silly or apologize.”

I grimaced, but got in. “Boss’s orders?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What if I had ten stops planned for this morning?”

That actually made him crack a smile in the rearview mirror. “Then we’d make ten stops.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a coffee from that place on the corner at the bottom of the hill,” I said.

Without a word of complaint, he rolled through the drive-through and ordered my drink, looking offended when I suggested he get something for himself. I was able to catch up on some emails I’d been meaning to answer and arrange a meeting with a kooky old collector who supposedly had this extremely rare bottle of champagne Mik gave me the green light to acquire. Even if I couldn’t buy it from him, I was excited to see his collection and hear about his travels around the world solely to taste and collect different wines and spirits.

I caught myself thinking it must be nice to be that rich, realizing I was checking the internet while a chauffeur drove me into work. I really was that rich, at least for now. It was odd that Mik suddenly decided to spoil me in this way, but why not enjoy it while it lasted?

“Maybe see you later,” I said to Piotr when he dropped me at the restaurant.