Page 149 of Cognac Vixen

I shake my head. “Not physically. Emotionally. I feel bad.”

Ivan chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “There’s nothing to feel bad about. The night got cut a little short, but we didn’t have to go out in the first place. I was fine staying home.”

“It’s our second anniversary, though. We have to celebrate.”

“Yes,” he agrees, leaning in and kissing my shoulder. “Which we could have done from our couch. Niles would have loved to order us an anniversary dinner.”

He’s not wrong. Niles made little inquiries all week about what our plans were and if there was anything he could help with.

I groan. “Now, I feel bad about that, too. I already pulled out of the trip he tried to surprise us with. The least I could have done is let him make us some dinner.”

“Niles knows why you pulled out of the trip. He isn’t mad at you.”

“You don’t know that. Niles would never admit he’s mad in a million years, even if he is.”

“Because he knows I’d string him from the chandelier by his ankles.”

I snort. “You would never hurt Niles.”

Ivan arches both brows. “I’ll hurt anyone who makes my pregnant wife feel bad about being too sick to take a trip. You are growing a person and taking care of a toddler. You deserve to do whatever you want when you want it.”

He’s rubbing my shoulder. I reach up and grab his hand, then hold it in my lap, my thumbs tracing his knuckles. “You’re really not upset? Because I’d understand if you are. We were supposed to go to Bora Bora. Instead, I couldn’t even make it through the entree at our favorite restaurant before I felt like I was going to hurl.”

“If I’m mad at anyone, it’s the bitch next to us who ordered the seafood.”

I laugh. “That ‘bitch’ was at least ninety.”

“She could be nine hundred and I still wouldn’t give a shit. I should’ve punted her to the curb.”

I know he’s not serious, but I love being the person Ivan will always fight to defend.

I also love being the person who can calm him down.

Slowly, I drag my hand up his arm. “It’s okay. The nausea has passed now. But I’m still suffering from other first trimester symptoms.”

“I’ll get you whatever you need. Just tell me.”

I turn to him, our eyes meeting in the dark. “Do you remember what things were like when I was pregnant the last time?”

I’m trying hard to feel sexy, but it’s a chore considering that, fifteen minutes ago, Ivan was holding my hair back while I threw up in a planter box by the curb. My teeth are brushed—all pregnant women should keep an emergency kit of toothbrushing supplies in their purse—but I’m not sure mint toothpaste is enough to recover the mood.

At least, I think so. Until Ivan understands what I mean.

He gently wraps his hand around my throat and tips my head to one side. His eyes are black in the lights from the car’s console. “You were fucking insatiable, Cora. I thought you were going to wear me out.”

“But I never did,” I grin. “You were always up for the challenge. Are you up for it now?”

He chuckles darkly and slides my hand down to the front of his pants. He arches a brow in challenge. “I’m up for it if you are.”

The mix of pregnancy hormones racing through me are most definitely up for it. I can already feel the dampness pooling between my legs. I can alsodefinitelyfeel how rock-solid Ivan’s erection is.

He strides around the car and opens my door. Then we creep up the front steps.

“Matvei should already be asleep,” Ivan whispers, slipping his key silently into the door. “If we can creep past Yasha and Jorden on the couch, they can stick around and make sure he stays asleep while we take care of you upstairs.”

Between Yasha and Jorden and Anya and Lev, Matvei has no shortage of aunts and uncles who are dying to take care of him. Not to mention Grandpa. My dad is an absolute softy for my baby boy. But I’m glad he’s not here tonight. With the way I’m feeling, the last person I want to run into on my way upstairs is my dad.

My body brushes against Ivan’s arm. “If you want tofullytake care of me, they might need to stay the night.”

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