Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
I try to act unaffected by his presence. It isn’t my best effort, but once again, if I don’t keep things even between us, he will eat me alive. “What are you doing here, Maksim? I thought you were helping my father and grandmother move into their new place.”
My grandfather lost his fight five years ago. It was six months after my father was released from custody to await a new trial. The evidence was still damning against him, particularly since he has always admitted his guilt, but when the jury was finally informed of the extent of my mother’s injuries and just how brutal her assault was, his sentence was reduced. With time served counting toward his new conviction, he was able to sit at his father-in-law’s bedside during his final weeks.
“They’re all settled, so I thought I’d come check on my stubborn wife.” His eyes lower to my stomach, his lip hitching higher like he’s obsessed with how its roundness fills in my scrubs. “You’re nine months pregnant, Doc. You shouldn’t be standing all day.”
“In these shoes, it feels like I’m walking on a cloud.” He smirks, cocky he won our shoes and clothes debate within the first two months of our marriage. “Besides, I only have another…”—I cringe when I check the time—“seven hours until I am on maternity leave.”
“That’s one of the perks of being the boss. You can give yourself an early mark whenever you want.” He pushes off the door and heads my way. “But since I know how important this particular case is to you”—Veronika has the same brain tumor Stefania had—“we’ll compromise.” My knees pull together when he states his terms. “I’ll take you out for lunch, make you scream my name twice on the drive back to check in on your patient, and then I’ll rub out your aches in the tub after your shift.”
When he cradles my head and brushes his lips against my temple, I take a moment to relish his hand in my hair and his minty breath in my nose since he put cigarettes on the line while negotiating for me to ditch contraception, before saying, “You still haven’t learned the art of negotiating, Mr. Ivanov.”
“I haven’t?” When he inches back, bringing us eye to eye, I nod. “How so? Did you miss the part about you screaming my name…?”
“Twice,” we say at the same time.
He smiles, loving how well we still gel after six years.
The past few years have been relatively smooth, but we faced a handful of bumps our first year of marriage. Don’t misconstrue. We were rock solid, even after learning he didn’t solely marry me so I’d be protected under the same laws that shelter his family. He did it for the exact reason I tried to strip from him when I thought he married me so he’d have an alibi.
We exchanged vows so he couldn’t testify against me—no matter which court I’d face charges from.
But the laws that protected us almost took us out when the boss of all bosses learned it wasn’t Maksim’s father’s new bride who killed him.
It was Matvei—Maksim’s younger brother.
Hell rained down on us, and I learned hard and fast that there are more things that could steal Maksim away from me than his protectiveness.
My stubbornness was at the top of the list.
Remembrance of that makes my following sentence so much harder to articulate. “I should stay. Veronika is my patient.”
“You should,” Maksim agrees, shocking me. I blame pregnancy hormones for my stupidity when he adds, “But you won’t.”
“Maksim—”
He guides me toward the exit before half his name leaves my lips. “You need to eat. My baby is hungry.” Heat roars through me when he murmurs, “And so the fuck am I.”
“You ate this morning,” I reply, no longer fighting his brisk strides to the closest exit, mindful his hunger has nothing to do with food, and too horny not to portray a lust-fueled idiot. “And I’m sure you’ll eat again this evening.”
“Fuckin’ oath I will,” he agrees, shadowing my panties with more wetness. Even after six years, we still can’t get enough of each other. He also still sleeps inside me every night. I’ve not yet had the heart to tell him that won’t be possible after I give birth. “But wasn’t it you who said three meals are the bare minimum a man should consume per day?”