Page 36 of 10 Days to Surrender

“You still haven’t explained where we’re going.”

“There’s a farmer’s market in Roccastrada. You need food that doesn’t come from a can.”

“I needsleep.”

“You need folate. Iron.” His gaze drops to my stomach. “Protein that isn’t expired.”

I roll my eyes. “Please, tell me more about what I need, since you are such an expert on all things pregnancy.”

Sasha pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s already getting a headache. “Don’t make this hard, Ariel. Jasmine told me that your doctors said?—”

“I know what they said,” I interrupt with acid in my tone. “No unpasteurized cheese. No cured meats. Nothing that hasn’t been rinsed in holy water blessed by the Pope himself.” I jerk out of bed and plop myself in front of him. “Do you knowwhyI know those things, Sasha? BecauseI’m the one carrying these babies.I’m the one who’s had to go to the doctors’ appointments, and watch my diet, and take all my minerals and supplements, and this and that and the other thing.Youhaven’t had to do any of that. And guess what? I was fine doing it on my own. So don’t act like you’re the one doing me a favor. You’re not.”

For a moment, Sasha’s face darkens, and I’m sure I’m going to get more of his usual bark.

Then it softens. Something else steals over him. “You’re right,” he concedes. “You have been doing this on your own. I haven’t been there.” His throat bobs with a swallow. “But I’m here now, and for as long as that lasts, I want to do right by you, Ariel. So let me. Let me try, at least.”

Oh, this manipulative asshole.Leave it to Sasha Ozerov to pull out the pity card when my defenses are already lowered by the pre-dawn blahs. Leave it to him to know that it would work.

Because it does.

As much as I want to snark back in his face, I can’t. He looks like he means what he’s saying. Authenticity—the greatest con of them all.

“Fine,” I mutter. “Give me ten minutes. I don’t want to scare any farmers away with my morning breath.”

When I get my hair into some semblance of order and make it downstairs, Sasha is waiting with a pair of bicycles leaning against the villa’s stucco walls.

I pause on the top step and squint at him. “Is this supposed to be myEat, Pray, Lovemoment?”

He looks back at me with utter blankness. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“Eat, Pray, Love?Like, the movie? Or, I mean, I guess it was a book first. But, like, Julia Roberts? She’s— My God, you really have no idea what I’m talking about. You’re a cyborg, I swear.”

He holds out a bike handle to me. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Do you know how to ride?”

“Yes, asshole, I know how to ride a bike.” I snatch it from him, throw one leg over—and promptly start to tip in the wrong direction.

But Sasha is there. He lunges forward to steady me with a hand on each hip before I face-plant in the dirt. His face hangs in my vision for a moment, contemplative, calm, with just the tiniest hint of a wry smile in the corner of his mouth.

“Are you sure?” he asks, amused.

My face burns. “There was a… pothole.”

He nods. “Right. Watch out for those. They come out of nowhere sometimes. In your case, quite literally.”

He keeps his hands on my waist for a second longer. I forgot over the last six months how easily his fingers span me. There’s more of me now to cover, as our babies grow inside me, but his palms still spread almost from hip to hip. I feel safe, nestled inside his grasp.

“You look beautiful,ptichka,”he murmurs.

Then he releases me. My cheeks are still hot as I watch him mount his bicycle and start to pedal. He gets maybe a hundred yards away, just beyond the fence line, before his voice floats back to where I’m still standing in place.

“Put some effort into it!” he calls. “Last one there gets the rotten eggplant.”

I swear he even laughs.

Gritting my teeth, I push off and get going again.

The ride paces peacefully enough. I keep an eye out for the rooster, just in case I get an opportunity to take him out while he’s crossing the road. But mostly, it’s rolling hills topped with vineyards and olive tree orchards, with an endless sky overhead. Tuscany is green and brown and blue in every direction. Icouldn’t point us out on a map if my life depended on it, but I do know that it’s beautiful.

---