Page 104 of Brutal Reign
“Uh, I was on the pill until recently.”
Pavel sits up straighter, arching an eyebrow. “Were you now?”
I shoot him a withering look. “If you must know, I was taking birth control pills to regulate my period.”
That’s a half-truth. I was taking the pills in secret, hiding them from Simon, who was desperate to knock me up the second we said “I do.” It was my one small act of rebellion, my insurance against being completely trapped. But I don’t need to share that in front of the doctor.
“Once we have your lab results and complete the physical, I can prescribe an appropriate contraceptive. You’ll need to change into a gown for the examination,” he says, disposing of his gloves. He gestures to a folded hospital gown on the counter. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
The moment he leaves the room, my gaze moves to Pavel. “I’m not changing with you sitting right there. It’s… embarrassing.”
“I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of your body.” He smirks before swiveling his chair to face the wall. “But if you’re feeling shy… problem solved.”
“I really hate you right now,” I mutter, but I grab the gown anyway and change as quickly as possible. When I sit back down on the exam table, Pavel turns around.
His eyes darken as they take me in. “Jesus, Hope. Only you could make a hospital gown look sexy as fuck.”
I scoff. “Not my intention.”
Dr. Medvedev knocks on the door. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” I call out, but as soon as the door opens, Pavel moves to stand in front of him.
“Actually, Doctor, you’re going to need to put on a blindfold.”
Dr. Medvedev blinks like he misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re going to examine my wife while blindfolded.”
To my astonishment, the doctor doesn’t argue. He simply reaches up, unknots his tie, and slides it from around his collar. As I watch him wrap it over his eyes, I swear to God I’ve entered some sort of parallel universe.
“Pavel, he’s a doctor!” Surely his jealousy doesn’t extend to medical professionals trying to do their job.
“What’s your point? He’s a red-blooded straight man, and I’m not interested in anyone seeing you in”—his eyes rake over me—“that.”
The poor doctor looks absolutely absurd stepping forward with a tie wrapped around his eyes, fumbling like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey.
What follows is the most ridiculous medical examination of my life. He manages to take my temperature and my blood pressure without incident, but when he attempts to listen to myheart, he misjudges the stethoscope placement, and his hand brushes the edge of my breast.
“Get your hands off her,” Pavel growls, standing abruptly. “I’ll do it myself. Tell me where to position this thing.”
My jaw drops as he takes the end of the stethoscope from the confused physician’s hands but leaves the earpieces in the doctor’s ears.
“Mr. Fedorov, I really don’t think?—”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion.”
Dr. Medvedev sighs heavily. “You’ll need to place it on several points across her chest so I can listen to different areas of her heart and lungs.”
“Where do I start?” Pavel holds up the bell with obvious satisfaction.
“Start below the left collarbone,” the doctor instructs nervously.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but at this point I’ve learned the uselessness of arguing with my so-called husband, so I just sit back and let him play doctor.
Pavel places the stethoscope exactly where instructed, but simply having him this close, feeling his fingers against my skin, sends an unwelcome flutter through my stomach.
“Good. Now let me listen to the right side,” the doctor says.
