Page 22 of Nurse for the Russian Mafia

She has our daughter, Primavera, swaddled in a harness as she walks to the desk and begins typing on the keyboard.

“Who’s the most beautiful girl in the world, huh?” she whispers as she works.

I smile broadly. My heart melting and I’m not even ashamed to admit it. I might still be strong and ice-cold when business is concerned, but she has thawed my soul where love is concerned. I love our family more than I can put into words. It is a deep sense of belonging.

“Daddy will be here soon,” Samantha goes on, typing away. “In fact, I think he might be here already. You know, Prima, I think Daddy might be so silly he doesn’t even realize that he’s trained me well, and I can hear him sneaking around?”

“I expect nothing less from my queen,” I grin, revealing myself and walking across the office.

I wrap my arms around her from behind, kissing the back of her neck, and find Primavera’s little hands in the swaddle. I hug them both, my princess and my queen.

“Every time I look at you, I just can’t believe how lucky I am. You set such a fine example to our daughter. Under your leadership, the rescue centers are operating at more than double their efficiency.”

She turns to me, glowing. Pregnancy just made her all the more beautiful, spreading the golden shine of happiness across her appearance and her soul. I just can’t stop smiling, I’m so happy. This past year has been the best of my life.

“Are you seriously looking at me like that right now?” she laughs.

“No,” I say. “Not in front of little Prima. But call the nanny, because it’s pretty hard to control myself when you look so beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” she laughs, gesturing to herself. “I’ve put on so much weight from the pregnancy. I’ve been so busy with work and Prima that I haven’t shaved in, let me see…I don’t know how long. My breasts are all bloated and milky, which I didn’t even anticipate, even if maybe I should have. Are you seriously saying you’re attracted to me right now?”

I laugh, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Attracted to you? I’ve never found you more attractive. Everything you have described makes you even more beautiful to me. The weight you’ve put on made Primavera strong and hearty. The fact that you haven’t shaved means nothing to me. Your breasts are for giving life, not just for pleasure. Though when you say ‘bloated’, don’t say it like it’s a bad thing, ever.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Never,” I growl. “Now go and find the nanny, before I explode over here.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s beaming. She gives me the sexiest pout in the universe as she leaves the room. The nanny is always escorting my queen, just in case she needs a break, as well as five of my best-trained men. My businesses are mostly legitimate, but I’d never take the chance with a woman as valuable as my wife.

I stroll over to her desk and look at our wedding photo. Her baby bump is bulging in it, and she’s smiling so contentedly that, if I was a weaker man, I might shed a tear. I’ve never seen myself look happier, either. Looking at the smiling, beaming man in the photograph, I know that nobody else but Samantha could make me so ecstatic. She is the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, and I thank God or fate or Cupid or whoever every day that I stumbled into the hospital that night.

“What are you smiling about?” Samantha says, walking up behind me.

“You,” I say honestly. “Our life. Our love. And the fact that we’re having twins next time.”

She grins. “Oh, are we, now?”

“Wouldn’t that make you happy?” I take her in my arms, loving how full-figured and plus-size perfect she is.

“Of course,” she says. “But I plan on having as many babies with you as I can, anyway, so as long as they’re happy and healthy, I’ll never stop smiling.”

I pull her toward me, pressing my body close to hers. I respond immediately, as I always do, blood rushing to my manhood. I lean down and kiss her. Every time, it feels like the first, when I lock the door and peel away the layers of her clothes, I just can’t look away.

She’s not just beautiful.

She’s sexy. She’s magnetic. She’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

And she’s mine.

Always.

I’m the luckiest man alive.

Extended Epilogue

Forty-six more years later

Samantha

The Lyadovs come to the beach like an invading army, there are so many of us. But instead of weapons, my husband and I, our ten children, our seventeen grandchildren, and our five great-grandchildren bring snacks and toys and laughter.

Alexander drives the minivan with confidence, not needing glasses even at his eighty-nine years. His hair is pure steel now and the wrinkles etched into his features give him a learned, experienced look. His body is still rock-hard and, the other day when I sneaked in on him in the gym, I saw him bench-pressing what men half his age could only dream of.

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