Page 78 of Sinful Blaze

Through the hall from the kitchen appears a stunningly beautiful, albeit older, woman with the same dark hair and flashing eyes as Pasha and his siblings. Her smile is warm and welcoming when she sees me.

“Docha! It’s so wonderful to finally meet you! Pshk!” She gives me a thorough once-over. “Pasha said you were beautiful, but he was certainly holding back! And no,” she clucks as she turns to Viktor, “I have my own key. For emergencies.”

Viktor nods and turns to leave. He shoots me an apologetic little smile and makes quick work of getting the hell out of here.

The woman wraps her hands around my arms and continues to beam at me like I’ve hung the moon in the sky all by myself. “Look at you,” she croons. “Just look at you! All glowing and radiant and far too good for my moody son.”

The pieces fall into place. “You’re Pasha’s mother.”

“Asya,” she confirms with a wink. “Apologies for making myself at home; I just knew it would be ages before Pasha actually introduced us if it were left up to him.”

“How come?” I ask as carefully as I can.

She eyes me closely, almost skeptically. “I’m assuming he’s told you about our family…?”

I nod. “The Bratva, yeah. And how he’s in charge. The Boss with a capital ‘B’.”

“Correct. Well, what do you think happens to the big, bad Bratva boss when his mother comes around?” She winks at me again, releases my arms, and turns to sashay back toward the kitchen. “Heaven forbid he let you see his human side!”

I can’t help my laugh. At the same time, I realize I’m in no state to receive or entertain guests. “I, ah… I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect company?—”

“Go make yourself comfortable!” she calls over her shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Alllrighty then. I head to the bedroom, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about my appearance, my home, my… everything. Pasha’s mother? Here, unannounced and uninvited? Is this going to be a regular thing?

She has a key to the place. She could pop in whenever she damn well pleases. Does Pasha want this? Is he okay with this?

Am I okay with this?

I change into a silky velour sweatsuit, increasingly self-conscious about my growing baby bump. What does she think about me? Am I just some gold-digging whore in her eyes, and all of this kindness is a front? Does she know that this was all completely unintentional?

The questions just keep coming. By the time I reach the kitchen, I’m a nervous wreck. “Asya…”

My words trail off when I see what’s waiting for me.

There’s a fresh honey cake with one slice already served up on a dessert plate, alongside a bowl of strawberries, a matching bowl of cream, and a crystal dish piled with dark chocolates all perfectly arranged on the kitchen island.

“Come! Sit,” Asya urges with a warm press of her hand to my back. “You are growing a baby. You deserve to be spoiled with sweets and treats.”

On second thought, I think this woman might be an angel.

I feel my cheeks heat as she ushers me onto a seat. “I, ah… thank you.”

“I made tea.” She sets a teacup on a saucer in front of me and gracefully pours the tea from a teapot I didn’t even know we had. “It’s good for you and the baby.”

“Th-thank you,” I stammer again. While waiting for it to cool, I watch her slide the slice of honey cake toward me before she carves out her own. “So, uh… what has Pasha been telling you about me?”

Asya smiles at me knowingly. “Worried what I must think about you? Some random young lady who got pregnant with my son’s baby and is now living in his home?”

I blush more, but she’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, so I nod reluctantly.

“I should be the one thanking you, docha.”

Safe to say that’s not at all what I’m expecting. “Sorry?”

Asya laughs. “I’ve been so worried about that boy. All work and no play turns anyone into an absolute ogre. I love my Pasha dearly, but he was becoming unbearable.” She gives me a sideways smile full of warmth and mischief. “Until he met you. So yes, I am very thankful to you, and for you.”

This is definitely not the interaction I expected to have with his mother. I mean, I’m not sure what all I really was expecting, but this warmth and kindness and overall affection? Not a bit.

---