Page 79 of Pregnant Virgin of the Bratva
He gestures to the lounge chair and the reading nook by the hearth. “Where do you want to sit?”
“Oh.” I smile faintly. “Window.”
He nods and helps me stand. His hand settles gently on my elbow, steadying me as I move.
Once I’m seated, he sets the tray beside me. Honey, no lemon. Just how I like it. Then he walks to the window and pulls the curtain back further. Sunlight spills across the floor.
“You’re getting good at this,” I murmur, taking a sip.
“At what?”
“Pretending you’re not watching my every move.”
He doesn’t turn. “I’m not pretending,” he says. “I am watching. I don’t care if you realize or not.”
I laugh softly.
He glances back. “You’re laughing more.”
“I feel… okay. Today.”
His jaw shifts slightly. “That won’t make me loosen security.”
“I know.”
He walks over and crouches beside me, one hand resting lightly on the arm of the chair.
I look at him. His eyes are sharp, always, but they don’t look cruel. Not anymore. “Kion,” I say quietly. “Do you think this will get easier?”
His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers behind his eyes. “What part?”
“Everything. The waiting. The quiet. Not knowing if this”—I touch my stomach—“is going to be okay.”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Then: “No.”
I nod. “Didn’t think so.”
“But,” he adds, “you’ll get stronger.”
“And you?”
He tilts his head slightly. “I don’t need to get stronger. I just need to keep you safe.”
I take another sip, eyes on his hand still resting on the chair.
“I didn’t think you’d be like this.”
“Like what? Obsessive, paranoid? Ridiculously handsome?”
I swat at him. “Attentive.”
He doesn’t smile, but his voice lowers. “I’d do anything for you.”
“I know.”
“You’re mine.”
I nod slowly. “And you’re mine too.”
