Page 40 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

He had seen when she’d tossed the poisoned tablet into his drink earlier and ensconced herself in a seat a few feet away to watch him die. What Mira didn’t know was that he had not drunk her poisoned brew.

“The confusion on your face when the poison didn’t kill me, Mira, is similar to my confusion when I look into your eyes and see the carefree girl at the club who only wanted a one-night stand, while the silent, watchful woman you’ve become now only wants my head on a platter.”

Chapter 25 - Mira

Mikhail was in a fine mood and Mira wasn’t even sure why.

She stole sidelong glances at him as he drove at breakneck speed with the wind whipping through her hair and his. His mood was a paradox, especially since she had already made two other attempts on his life just this morning, but once more, he had escaped unscathed.

“You burned your tongue on that coffee,” she observed now, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on his forearm.

For some reason, he looked down at her hand on his forearm as though he were calculating or measuring something, then he looked back up at her, his eyes shuttered and his face inscrutable.

She had laced the coffee with some poison again, hoping to kill him, but he had lifted the cup for a sip, made a face and declared the coffee unsuitable for him. Then he trashed the entire coffee, including the mug.

Next, she’d spilled some oil on the staircase, hoping he would fall and break his neck, or some bones at least. He hadn’t used the stairs all morning.

Either he was one lucky bastard or he knew she was trying to kill him. Her money was on the later because Mira had stopped believing in luck, or fate, or coincidences a long time ago. She was convinced something was up. Even now, when she had initiated touching him after days of giving him a wide berth, he seemed unmoved.

Calmly, he tugged his forearm from underneath her touch and smiled at her. “The coffee didn’t have enough…cream to suit my taste buds.”

“You like cream in your coffee?” she asked, feeling a tug as she looked at his boyishly handsome smile.

“Loads,” he affirmed, turning back to face the road.

Was he avoiding her? Experimentally, she reached out a hand again and laid it on his forearm.

This time he wasn’t subtle about it; he lifted his hand away and placed it on the steering wheel.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Hmm, let me see, you tried to kill me three or four times now, failed each time. Nothing wrong, we’re good. All’s right with the world.”

Chills of fear chased down her skin at his laissez-faire attitude.

Suddenly she took a closer look at their surroundings. They were going nearly a hundred miles per hour on an empty stretch of road with no houses around for miles. If his intent in bringing her out here was to take revenge for her killing him, he would succeed admirably.

She frowned. But even if he had decided to kill her at his villa, none of his men would so much as quirk an eyebrow. Their unquestioning loyalty was to him and him alone.

“Mikhail,” she began.

“So tell me why you’ve been after me. Was this the deal with your dad from the start, or did I do something to trigger such…murderous tendencies?” he enquired in an even, cultured tone which was all the more chilling and frightening because it was so polite.

Mira licked her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

She shrank toward the door and away from him, feeling deathly afraid. “Mikhail, don’t do whatever you’re planning on doing.”

He looked at her. “And what is it I’m planning on doing?”

Suddenly her neckline felt tight. She couldn’t breathe properly. She twisted in her seat, struggling against the seat belt as she tried to get more air into her lungs. She was hyperventilating, she realized in wonder. The car was a convertible with the roof down and all the windows down, so how could she possibly be starving of air?

“Mikhail, I need to get out. Stop the car.”

He looked at her, his gaze piercing as he enunciated, “Fine. Get out.”

The way he said the words and the tone of his voice told Mira more than anything that he was good and pissed. Because what other reason could there possibly be for Mikhail to invite her to off herself as though she was nothing whatsoever to him?

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