Page 29 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

I slip out of the dining room before she can respond, leaving her there looking giddy and flushed, her eyes following me with that soft, satisfied glow.

I move as fast as I can away from her, as far as I can. Maybe Akim is right. Maybe Raina Volina is a threat worse than not having an heir to pass my child on to. Just for reasons he has never brought up.

10

RAINA

I hold the green wrap top up under my chin and turn so Bastian can see it against my face.

It was his idea to take me shopping for some maternity clothes, and I thought he’d send me with Akim, who follows me around lately like he’s a lost puppy.

But he wanted to bring me himself—and a half dozen men who are trailing us everywhere.

I catch my own reflection in the shop mirror behind him, flushed and grinning like a woman in love, and maybe I am.

I don’t know what’s come over me, but something shifted in my heart when Bastian offered to pay off that debt free and clear.

And that night on his dining table unleashed my inhibitions. I feel reborn, and I feel so drawn to him.

“Tell me this one isn’t perfect,” I tell him, grinning. He barely smiles, but he’s a very serious man like that.

I’ve noticed it more now that I’m taking a real liking to him. I imagine it’s because losing his wife really traumatized him, though he won’t say how she died.

If I have to spend every waking moment working on that edge, I will.

He deserves to feel happiness and know how to express it too.

“It’s a good color on you.” He takes the hanger from my hand and drapes it over his forearm with the others, which is his way of saying yes to everything. “Keep it.” It makes me giddy. He never says no to me, and I feel spoiled.

“You’re supposed to argue with me a little. Make me work for it.” I cock my head and grin at him, poking him in the ribs.

His body is a solid wall of muscle, and having now seen it on multiple occasions I feel like I’m being a little possessive over it.

I want to stake my claim, let other women know I’m not sharing.

“Why would I make you work for something I’m going to give you anyway?” He lifts an eyebrow, and I laugh.

I’ve learned to notice his almost-smiles the way other people get to enjoy the real thing.

He may never get to the full thing comfortably, at least not in public.

I keep moving down the rack, pulling things as I go, holding each one out for his approval and getting the same response every time.

A knit dress that drapes perfectly, wide-waisted trousers with room in them for my belly to grow later on.

And my favorite is a cream blouse I don’t need at all but want anyway. Bastian doesn’t even protest.

He grunts and nods at me, allowing me to have the world. Like I’m his queen and he’ll roll out the red carpet generously.

I loop my arm through his free one and lean into his side while I reach for a soft gray cardigan, and he lets me.

And I think I’m starting to figure him out.

He doesn’t use words to express how he’s feeling; he uses actions—the way he takes care of me, the way he protects me, and today how he’s showering me in these gifts, out of his own pocket that I don’t have to pay him back for.

“How many is too many?” I ask, holding the cardigan up.

“There’s no such thing.” He nods at it. “Get as many as you’d like.”