Page 6 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

I freeze, electricity coursing through me at his touch. "I'm fine," I whisper, finally meeting his eyes. "Really. I just… I need to go."

He releases me slowly, reluctantly. "Alright. Drive safely."

I nod, unable to form words, and practically flee from the room. It's not until I'm in my car, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands, that I allow myself to breathe.

What just happened? I close my eyes, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Desire, confusion, fear—they all battle for dominance. I've never felt thisway about a client before. Never felt this way about anyone, if I'm being honest with myself.

But Abram is different. Older, more experienced, with an air of danger that both thrills and terrifies me. And the way he looked at me… like he could devour me whole. Not to mention, his conversation keeps me interested. Usually, I’d be bored halfway through a meeting, but he’s the perfect client, pushing me to be better, to think bigger.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of attraction. This is madness. I've worked too hard to build up my career and to establish myself as a respected designer. I can't throw it all away for… what? A fling with a client? A man who's probably used to getting whatever—and whoever—he wants?

No. I can’t let a moment’s joy forever cast a shadow of doubt on my reputation. If anything happened and word got out, rumors would spread—and that is something I can’t allow.

Chapter 3 - Abram

I pace impatiently in my living room, glancing at the antique clock on the mantel every few seconds. Zara is due to arrive any minute for our design consultation. I've been looking forward to this all week. She might expect this to be our last meeting, the house almost all done, according to her.

But in truth, I simply want to prolong her visits, to have an excuse to keep her coming back as long as possible. I find my days more exciting when I have her company to look forward to.

In preparation to keep her around a little longer, I had my staff rearrange several corners. I step back, surveying the living room with a critical eye. The new chaise lounge fits perfectly in the alcove by the window, bathed in soft afternoon light. The space it previously took is now an empty corner begging for attention—perhaps an antique writing desk or a decorative pedestal. My fingers twitch, already imagining Zara's delicate hands arranging new pieces around my home.

The doorbell chimes, and my heart leaps. Right on time.

I take a deep breath, smoothing my hair and straightening my tie before striding to the door. I open it to find Zara standing there, lovely as ever, in a light blue sundress, her blonde hair swept back in a low bun with strands falling gently around her cheek.

I drink in the sight of her. “Zara, thank you for coming in,” I step aside, letting her through. Her sundress flutters as she steps inside, a flash of creamy skin above her knee making my breath catch.

"Of course, although I thought we had finalized all the details during our last meeting. I apologize for the inconvenience I caused you by not being more thorough," shereplies with a polite smile as she passes by me. Always so professional and proper,goddamnit.

"I hope you don't mind; I've made a few changes since your last visit, and none of this is your fault," I say casually, averting my gaze from her legs and gesturing to the room. "I'd love your opinion on some additional pieces."

Zara's eyes widen slightly as she takes in the new format, her eyes trailing the new position of the chaise lounge, before retracing back to the now empty corner. "Oh! It looks lovely. Very… spacious."

I smile, moving closer. "I find myself with more space than I know what to do with these days. Perhaps you could help me fill it?"

She meets my gaze, a confident acceptance of the challenge evident in her eyes. "Of course, that's what I'm here for. Shall we discuss the areas you'd like to focus on?"

"Please, sit," I say, guiding her to the chair with a light touch on her lower back. "I have some ideas I'd love to run by you."

As Zara settles in, I take a seat across from her, leaning forward intently. My pulse quickens at her proximity, the scent of her perfume teasing my senses. Soon, I think. Soon, she'll see this is where she belongs.

I show her the first of the new spaces, a window seat overlooking the gardens. "I thought perhaps some new throw pillows to tie in the colors from outside," I suggest. “Can we get them custom-made to go with some new curtains?”

Zara nods thoughtfully, her eyes already analyzing the area. "Yes, I can see that working well. Perhaps in a botanical print, to really bring the outside in."

We continue on this way, moving from topic to topic as she offers her thoughts and ideas. I watch her closely, entranced by the way she lights up when discussing design, the melodic lilt of her voice, and the elegant gestures of her long fingers. She is a vision.

I pepper in questions, trying to draw her out. "Have you always had a passion for creating beautiful spaces?" I ask at one point.

"Oh yes, for as long as I can remember," Zara responds but then pauses. "But I don't want to bore you with the details. Shall we move on to the next thing on our list?"

I want to tell her that nothing about her could ever bore me, that I'm desperate to know everything about her. But I simply nod and reply, "Of course."

As she passes me some reference images, our arms brush, and a jolt of electricity zings through me at the contact. I wonder if she feels it, too. I long to reach out and caress her porcelain skin, to pull her against me and claim her pink rosebud lips with my own. The yearning is acute, almost painful.

But I control myself. I am a master at the long game, and I will not rush this seduction. Slowly but surely, I will break through Zara's polite reserve. I will make her mine, thoroughly and completely. It's only a matter of time.

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