Page 44 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

I still felt like crap for going to pieces, but after I confessed to being utterly useless, Mila comforted me and bolstered my confidence. “You did exactly what Mik wanted you to do,” she said. “You stayed safe. And if you hadn’t screamed, how would the good guys with guns know they needed to use them?”

“Okay, now you’re just being nice,” I said. “But I appreciate it. Really.”

“What are cousins-in-law for?”

I felt better after ending the call, but not by much. I still had to face the restaurant tomorrow, and after that nap, I’d most likely be tossing and turning all night. After a bracing shower, I headed downstairs to face Mik if he was home, and to force myself to eat something.

Maybe everyone was right, and it really wasn’t a big deal. And I had to stiffen my spine. I heard Mik in the kitchen, talking on the phone, and paused to straighten my shoulders before I faced him, determined to be as brave as Mik.

If only I weren’t so sure I’d disintegrate tomorrow morning when faced with the aftermath of all that violence. Maybe it was better to ask for the day off, even if it reinforced how weak I was.

Mik ended his call, and his scowl melted away when he saw me. “I didn’t expect to see you until morning.”

“About that,” I said, wanting to get it out of the way. I was certain he wanted to tell me that everything was fine and how we’d proceed, but all I could think about was that bloody tarp and all those bullet holes.

“Yes, about that,” he said, standing to place his hands on my shoulders. “We’re not going into the restaurant tomorrow.”

Before I could assert that I was fine, and hope he didn’t see through my lie, he continued. “We’re going up to Napa again.” At the slightest tension in my shoulders, he rushed to name off some of the vineyards I had wanted to go to instead of Canyon Vines, and my ex’s place was conspicuously off the list.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Was he doing this for me, knowing how much I would balk at going back to the restaurant so soon? “We don’t have to. I’m fine. I know it won’t happen again.”

He smiled down at me, squeezing my shoulders. “I know you’re fine, but we’ve got to have the best wines that California has to offer, don’t we?”

I saw through him as easily as if he were made of plastic wrap. He was sheltering me, planning to keep me away and distracted for as long as he thought I needed. This might have outraged me if I weren’t so grateful. Whatever we had together, Mik cared. He cared enough to drop everything and whisk me away to a place that I loved, despite Rand trying to make every memory there a bad one.

Now I’d get more new memories to erase him completely. New memories with Mik.

I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder. He slid his hands around my back and eased them down to tug me close. He knew what I needed without me having to say a word, and made it happen.

My adrenaline was flowing the moment our bodies touched, but now my heart rate wasn’t up because of fear. That was all Mik’s touch.

Slowly lifting my face, I saw he was looking down at me with tenderness and something else I couldn’t figure out. His hands moved steadily downward as I lifted up on my toes to reach his mouth, and when his lips were on mine, everything in my harried brain went calm.

My body, however, was the opposite. This morning seemed like an eon ago, but the sensation of the fiery kiss came back to me, overwhelming me with badly beaten-down lust. I couldn’t look at the man without wanting to reach out and touch him, and it had been a month since our first and only night together.

An indistinct noise, a cross between a moan and squeak, came out of me when he parted my lips with his tongue. He gripped my behind, lifting me higher so that my body brushed against his, tantalizing and tormenting at once. My nipples hardened, and I longed to feel hot skin touching me instead of the clothes that were between us.

Lifting me completely off the floor, he carried me toward the stairs, making a detour at the living area. “Can’t wait,” he said.

“Good,” I agreed, wrapping my legs around him.

He folded me onto the oversized leather couch and fit perfectly between my legs. I groaned, wanting so much more. He echoed the sound, lifting himself up to tug at the buttons on my pajama top at the same time I reached for his shirt. My fingers were trembling, and as soon as my top was spread open, he ran his palm down my belly before tearing his own shirt off with a feral growl.

I slapped my palms against his broad chest, curling my fingers into his skin and scraping my nails through the smattering of crisp hairs. He smiled down at my breasts, carefully rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingertips. My hips raised, trapped beneath him, and he leaned down to suckle the tight nubs.

His hair was soft between my fingers as he worked his way down my front, kissing along my ribcage and dipping his tongue into my belly button. I yelped and swatted him. He looked up with a grin and kept kissing his way down.

Barely pausing at the drawstring on my pants, he dragged it loose with his teeth, slowly easing them down my hips. I writhed and tilted my head back, unable to reach him to drag him back up. The ceiling fan moved as languidly as he did, kissing up my inner thighs, and I watched the shadows it cast as I held my breath in anticipation.

“You should go to work without panties,” he said.

“Never,” I hissed, clamping down on my lower lip as he teased my clit with his lips.

“We’ll see,” he said.

I wasn’t about to argue and couldn’t when he pressed his tongue flat against my most sensitive spot. Arching my back, I reached for him, letting my hands slide down his shoulders as I watched him lap at me between my legs. How did I resist this for so long?

And why? It seemed like there was a good reason, but I couldn’t recall it.