Page 32 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Amongst the other patrons of the diner, our new clothes fit right in. Everyone I can see is wearing flannel and trucker hats or a matching sweatsuit. New York Fashion Week, this is not.

The hostess sits us at a booth near the back next to an elderly couple sharing a piece of pecan pie. I immediately order chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn. My mouth is salivating at the mere thought.

While we wait for our food to arrive, I scrutinize him. He doesn’t bother returning my gaze. “So you’re a Romanoff,” I say. “TheRomanoff.”

“Mhmm.”

“That makes you one of the most powerful men in New York City.”

He nods. “Sure.”

I sigh. “Okay, Monosyllable Man. I’m trying to figure out why the most powerful man in NYC would be on the run from a few thugs. Shouldn’t you squash those guys in a second?”

Dima stretches an arm behind his back. His muscles strain against the thin material of his new shirt.

Not that I’m noticing. Not that I’m daydreaming about running my hands down his chest again. About feeling his butt flex as he thrusts…

I clear my throat and shake my head, wiping the image from my mind.

He’s just as built as I remember, and now that I can clearly see his face, he’s even more handsome. His jaw is square, softened by a light layer of stubble. He has full lips, gray blue eyes, and dark hair he keeps pushed back from his face.

Aside from a few pale scars across his cheek, his neck, and all over his forearms, I’d think he was a model rather than a career criminal.

“Those ‘guys’ work for me,” he says, folding his hands around a coffee cup in front of him. “Well, they did. But they won’t be working for anyone when I’m done with them.”

Lukas is awake now, his slate blue eyes wide and searching, not fixating on anything. I wonder if he’ll have his father’s eyes when he gets older.

“Why are they chasing you?”

“I passed on a… business opportunity they thought I should take. They didn’t like that, so they wanted a change in leadership. It’s a small faction, but I was unprepared, so I have to leave the city temporarily and regroup.”

I answer hollowly,“‘Boys stay and fight when they don’t have a chance. Men know that you can’t fight a war if you’re dead.’”

Dima’s eyes pinch together, confused. “Huh?”

“That’s what you said to me that night.” It doesn’t need any more explanation than that. “Speaking of which, where are we sleeping tonight? I’ll need a bassinet for Lukas. And pajamas. He doesn’t have any clothes or—”

“Your hospital bag is in the trunk,” Dima says, cutting me off. “It has some of his clothes in it.”

My eyes widen. And then, for no reason I can really determine, I start to laugh.

I tip my head back and cackle so loudly I have to place a hand over my mouth. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and before I know it, I’m laughing so hard my whole body is starting to throb painfully.

I try to swallow back the hysteria. But the harder I try to keep it at bay, the more it wants to come up. I laugh and laugh and laugh. People start to look over at us warily.

Dima leans across the table. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head and snort through the giggles. “Not even a little bit.”

When I’m finally able to calm down, I take a drink and wipe away the tears rolling down my cheeks.

“I can’t believe you delivered my baby. You just wandered in out of nowhere and pulled a baby out of me. You, of all people, in all places, at all times.YOU.”

“It wasn’t high on my bucket list, in case you were wondering.”

I shake my head again. “Jesus, what a weird fucking day.”

The elderly woman who smiled at Lukas as we passed earlier snaps her attention over to me, her top lip pulled back in disgust. I don’t think she approves of my colorful word choice. She may be old, but her hearing is apparently pristine.

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