Page 6 of Ruthless Reign

Not long ago, Kira survived an attack on her life. The incident contributed to her pregnancy being categorized as high-risk, which is why she needs to keep stress and worry to a minimum.

Kira groans. “I’m feeling great, other than my husband driving me crazy. He has me on a schedule of prenatal yoga, tai chi, daily meditation and massage. All this relaxation is driving me insane.”

“Only you would feel that way.” I shake my head with a grin. “In this case, I think you should listen to Maxim. He's a wise man.”

“Sometimes,” she concedes.

A server comes around and offers us each a glass of champagne. Kira shakes her head no while I accept one and take a swig of the cool liquid. “Anyhow, tell me all about your time in New York.”

Her eyes light up. “It was a whirlwind, but it was amazing to see everybody.”

As she details her recent trip, a deep baritone laugh echoes through the room.

That voice.

A combination of nerves and excitement flutters in my chest. When I look up, my breath catches in my throat.

I always forget how damn attractive Roman Vasiliev is.

Piercing eyes the color of rich espresso and thick, tousled dark hair I have fantasized about running my fingers through more times than I’ll ever admit. Not to mention his tall frame and defined muscles, evident even under the fabric of his clothes. Tonight, he’s wearing a sharp dark navy suit tailored perfectly to his frame, tattoos just peeking out of his collar. I’m not used to seeing him in anything but jeans, T-shirt, and maybe a leather jacket, so this is a departure from his usual style. I’m definitely not complaining.

Too bad he’s so stinking annoying.

Right now, he’s chatting in the corner with Katerina, who’s resting a hand on his forearm like they’re friends. Or more.

Irritation flickers through me.

As if Roman feels my gaze, his attention snaps to me. Our eyes meet, and a jolt of something hot and uninvited surges through me. A small smile plays on his entirely too full lips.

A man shouldn’t have a mouth like that. It’s practically… pouty.

I swallow hard and turn away, trying to douse the surge of heat I feel every time he’s near.

“Oh, by the way.” Kira’s voice breaks me out of my fog. “Everything is set for London! I have every maternity store from Knightsbridge to Soho mapped out.”

Kira and I are taking a trip to the UK this weekend. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for weeks.

I give her a faux-stern look. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?”

“Don’t worry, we’re going to take frequent high-tea breaks. That’s what London’s about, right?”

“Never been,” I admit, “but I’m excited for you to show me around.”

Taking a sip of champagne, I savor the bubbles, hoping the drink will ease the tension that’s built up inside me. There are several reasons for me to be on edge tonight, but watching Katerina fawn all over Roman is high up on that list.

He casually leans against the wall, his thumb brushing against his bottom lip. Katerina is talking to him, but his eyes remain on me.

This is our game. We’re polite when others are around, but our sharp looks express everything we can’t say. Except right now, he’s not really glaring. He’s staring at me with dry amusement.

Kira stops talking mid-sentence, her brows furrowed. “Is everything okay? You seem distracted.”

“I’m just a little light-headed. Must’ve not eaten enough today.” I shake my head and focus on gulping back the rest of my drink.

Before Kira can respond, my father’s booming voice rises above the din, inviting everyone into the dining room.

Saved by the dinner bell.

“I’m just going to pop to the ladies’,” I tell Kira, with a little squeeze of her arm. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

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