Page 34 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

“It would only put them at risk, right? That’s what you said. If they know where we are, Fyodor and the other two guys might try to get information out of them.”

Dima stands up and spins around, pointing at me. “That’s what I’m talking about. That’s not a normal response.”

I throw up a hand, frustrated. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I guess I’m not normal.”

He just watches me. Even when I turn around to pace back the other direction, I can feel his eyes on me.

He’s studying me. Trying to find my secrets.

But only I know how deep they’re buried.

He doesn’t stand a chance.

Lukas is comforted for a few minutes by the pacing and patting, but soon he starts to squirm and suck at my shirt. It’s easy enough to tell what he wants. I sit on the bed and yank my sweatshirt up over my shoulder.

Dima is still watching me, eyes fixed like he can’t pull them away, as I push my bra aside and let my breast fall out.

Breastfeeding is a natural thing. A loving, nurturing act between a mother and a child. Of course, that doesn’t stop men from turning into drooling cavemen at the sight of a nipple.

“You can take a picture if you’d like,” I snap, eyebrow raised in challenge. “It’ll last longer.”

Dima smirks, but still doesn’t look away. “I have enough mental images for a lifetime.”

My stomach tightens at the memory.Thememory. The one that has been bringing me to climax over and over again over the last few months.

Even as my belly swelled with the product of the encounter, I couldn’t make myself stop wanting more of it. Wanting more ofhim.

“Good. Because there won’t be a repeat encounter,” I say sternly, hoping the message comes through clearly—for him and, more importantly, for myself.

“After what I saw this afternoon, believe me, I’m in no rush to try anything.”

I grab the pillow next to me and throw it at the back of his head. He laughs and sets it in his lap.

I wonder if the move is strategic. If maybe his body is responding to the memories as well and he doesn’t want me to see.

Lukas drifts off as he eats. I eventually pull my sweatshirt back down and cradle him against my chest. Dima has been flipping through the TV Guide magazine on the table, but when I move, he turns and then walks across the room.

He sits next to me on the bed, his eyes on Lukas. “You can call someone if you want,” he says quietly. “If there’s someone you want to tell about—”

“There’s no one to tell.”

He waits to see if I’ll elaborate. I don’t want to, but I have a feeling he’ll annoy me until I do.

With a sigh, I add, “My parents are dead, I don’t have any siblings, and I spend all my free time working at the clinic. I’ve been so busy there, I haven’t had time to get much of a life.”

“Until I showed up and gave you one.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s one disturbing way to put it, yes.”

He chuckles morbidly. Then we fall into a heavy silence again.

I can hear Lukas’s little breaths against my chest. As I do, I feel the strange urge to thank Dima.

Not for bringing mobsters to my hospital room. Or getting me shot at. Or shoving me in the car and taking me on a road trip to who the fuck knows where.

But for Lukas. For this one little piece of perfect in the world.

For giving me a family.

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