When I glanced at Sergei to ask him if he recognized her, I saw the glint of panic in his eyes. "Who is she?"
Sergei put his hand between my shoulder blades and guided me to the next painting. "She's not important."
"Sergei." I stopped walking and stared up at him. "Who. Is. She?"
He ran his tongue against the inside of his lower lip. Reluctantly, he answered me. "She's the woman that Nikolai was expected to marry."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"He never… It was long before Vivian ever came to work at Samovar and things started to get interesting between them. Nikolai never loved that woman, and she couldn't stand him. It was all arranged between her father and the big boss out of Moscow. She came to Houston for graduate school. They were supposed to get close…"
"But?"
Sergei slid his arms around my shoulders and helped me around another couple. "But she fell in love with someone else and Nikolai helped her escape."
"Escape? Where?"
"Houston and her father," he said. "I don't know where. I didn't even know she was back."
"Do you think Lena knows? Because she just tossed her out on her backside."
"I'm sure she knows."
"Yuri?"
"Probably." Shaking his head, Sergei breathed deeply. "But no more of that. I want to talk about us."
"Us?"
"Yes." He reached into the pocket inside his suit jacket and retrieved a key that he used to unlock a door hidden behind a column and potted plants. Surprised, I nevertheless followed him inside the back room of the gallery. He led me through another door that opened into a small stairwell that took us to the roof.
"What's up here?"
"It was hot inside. I thought you might like to get some air, and the view is beautiful."
It was entirely innocent explanation, but I wondered if that was all this was. He held my elbow and gently guided me across the terrace. The gallery must have hosted functions up here because the space was completely decked out with outdoor furniture and twinkling lights strung up to illuminate the seating areas.
He was right. The view of the city was gorgeous from up here. It wasn't my first trip to London. I had come as a teenager with Mama and Perry. Back then, we had done all the touristy things that American were expected to do. This time, I had tried to find new and interesting places to visit with Sergei. This rooftop definitely fit that bill.
Sergei placed his hand on my upper back and rubbed a slow circle. Standing behind me, he shared all that wicked body heat with me. The scent of his aftershave and cologne filled the air. My body thrummed with delight because I knew I would wake tomorrow morning with that smell clinging to my skin.
"I've never been happier than I am with you."
I smiled and reached back to pat the hand he had settled on my shoulder. "I feel the same way."
"I'll do anything to make you happy, Bianca. Anything you want, I'll find a way to make it yours."
Turning slowly, I wrapped my arms around his trim waist and gazed up at him, hoping he could see the depth of my love reflected in my eyes. "I don't need anything else but you."
He lifted his left hand. "Not even this?"
I blinked twice. Was that…? I glanced up at him and saw the hope radiated in his expression. My gaze returned to the gorgeous engagement ring sitting on his pinky finger. The brilliant round diamond glittered in a halo setting that included dozens of smaller, equally as perfect diamonds. The platinum glinted under the twinkling lights. "Sergei!"
"This is all backwards, I know." He sounded apologetic. "I was supposed to ask you to marry me before we made a baby, but I need you to know that I would have asked even if we weren't about to become parents. It's you I want, Bianca. It was you from the first time I saw you with Vivian." He cupped my face in his hands. "You gave me back my life, Bianca. You made me a free man. Share my life with me? Walk beside me from here until the end?"
A sob escaped my throat. His eloquent, heartfelt proposal was exactly what I would expect from him. He understood how to break through my walls and reach me in a way no one else ever could. In just a few sentences, he had reassured me that he wasn't asking me to be his wife out of obligation. He was asking because he loved me and wanted to build a life with me.
"Yes." I placed my hands over his. "I want to share my life with you."
Grinning, Sergei gently clasped my left hand and slid the engagement ring into place. As it glided effortlessly onto my finger, I got a closer look and instantly recognized the craftsmanship and design elements as Zoya's. The jewelry designer and gemologist had a certain flare when it came to her work that was unmistakable.
Sergei lifted my hand and kissed my engagement ring. With a teasing smirk on his handsome face, he said, "I promise I'll never stop kicking down doors for you."
"Not many women can say they fell in love with their future husband when he kicked down a door to save her from a shower curtain," I replied with a laugh.
"I'd do it again." He lowered his face and finally kissed me. "And again." He pecked my left cheek. "And again." His lips touched the right side of my face. "There's nothing I won't save you from, Bianca."
He meant every word he said. A shower curtain, crazy racist thugs—there was nothing that he wouldn't do to keep me safe.
"I love you, Sergei."
He embraced me with his powerful arms. "I love you, Bianca. Always." He kissed the top of my head. "Forever."
Our mouths met in a passionate explosion. Sergei walked backward toward the closest sofa and sank down onto it. He dragged me onto his lap, gripping my bottom and forcing me to straddle him. My skirt was too tight so he shoved it up around my hips and bared my lacy panties to the night air. I gasped against his mouth. "Sergei! We can't."
"Why not?" He was already tugging my undies down my hips. "We're outside. It's dark. The door is locked. No one will find us."
"But—oh!" I moaned as his fingertip dipped into my cleft. "What if someone in another building sees us?"
"Then they see us," he replied calmly.
"Sergei…"
He silenced my protest with a kiss that left me dizzy and clutching at him. Heat pooled between my thighs, and my breasts ached to be stroked and fondled by him. I accepted that I was about to add a new experience to my list that I had never expected to indulge.
"Watch my hair," I begged in between kisses. "Everyone will know what we've been up to on the roof if I come down with my hair a mess."
"I'll try."
Limited because of our restricted clothing, Sergei shifted out from under me and dragged me over to the chaise end of the sectional. He pulled me up onto my knees and ran his hand over my plump bottom. His fingers moved to my pussy, and he probed me gently. Already I was dripping for him. Moaning, I pushed back against his fingers. "Sergei.
Now
."
My breathless request made him groan. He quickly lowered his zipper and freed his erection. He traced my folds with the tip of his cock and gently caressed my back. "I swear I'll love you sweeter than this when we get back to the hotel. I'll make love to you until sunrise if that's what you want."
And then he was inside me. Sheathed with one rough thrust, he impaled me on that extraordinary shaft of his. Thick and long, it filled me up and reminded me of what a man he was. Even in this position, Sergei found a way to make our coupling tender. He leaned over me and pressed loving kisses to my neck and cheek.
I gripped the arm of the couch and rocked on my knees, meeting his thrusts and encouraging him with my sighs and moans. Sergei grasped my wrist and moved my hand between my legs. When I touched myself, I knew it wouldn't be long. I was right on the edge of climaxing. Squeezing my inner walls, I earned a growl of appreciation from Sergei.
"I can't," he panted with a sense of urgency. "God.
God
."
For the first time ever, he came first, his blazing hot seed flooding me as he shuddered and jerked. Knowing that I had overwhelmed him made me smile. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my clit a little faster and concentrated on the sensation of Sergei's shaft buried deep inside me. "Oh. Oh.
Ohhh
."
He gripped my hips and ground against me as I climaxed. Shaking and limp, we fell forward onto the cushions of the sofa. We couldn’t stay that way forever. There was a party downstairs, and we would soon be missed.
But as Sergei interlaced our fingers, I blinked away tears while staring at the beautiful ring he had given me. Suddenly I couldn't think of a single reason why we needed to hurry back to the real world.
Sitting in bed on Saturday evening, I sketched some wedding dress ideas on the pad I carried everywhere. My pencil glided over the paper. Left handed, I kept stopping to admire the engagement ring glittering on my finger. The memories of last night left me giddy. I held up my hand to admire the twinkling diamonds.
Grinning like a fool, I returned to the sketches. I had a bodice in mind for my gown, but it was the skirt that gave me fits. I didn't know when we were going to tie the knot. If it was too far into my second trimester, my options were going to be severely limited. No amount of corseting, pleats, tucks or ruched organza could hide the big baby belly I would have by then.
"Bianca?" Galina ducked her head through the open doorway. "Would you like dinner?"
Sergei and Vladimir had gone out for a night of pub crawling. I hadn't been thrilled by the idea of spending an evening alone with my future mother-in-law. The feeling seemed mutual. She had disappeared into her bedroom the moment her sons were gone. Not wanting to push myself on her, I had sought refuge in here to sketch and think.
Now she was making an effort, and I understood how hard that was for her. I smiled at her and set aside my sketchpad. "I'd like that. The restaurant downstairs is supposed to be very nice. Would you like to try it?"
"Yes. That sounds good." She came into the bedroom and gestured toward my sketchpad. "May I?"
"Of course." I handed it to her. "Let me duck into the bathroom and change out of these yoga pants and into something a little nicer."
She waved her hand. "Please. I'm happy to wait."
I stood slowly, but a wave of nausea and dizziness still swamped me. Annoyed by the morning sickness, I carefully made my way to the bathroom and closed the door. I had been feeling some twinges along my sides and in my back all afternoon and evening. After losing my lunch and the tea and cookies I had tried to have a few hours later, I figured the aches were from over-exercised muscles. Not even ginger gum and candy were keeping the sickness at bay now.
As I picked out a dress, I realized I had to pee again. I couldn't believe how much time I was spending in the lady's room these days. If I wasn't sick, I had a throbbing bladder. I shuddered to think what it would be like when I was nine months pregnant and this baby of ours was jumping up and down in there. I would have to move my office into one of the stalls at work if I was going to get anything accomplished!
When I sat down, I glanced at my undies and gasped. Bright red blood marred the pale blue cotton. Stunned and horrified, I reached for some toilet tissue and hastily checked to see if I was still bleeding. The evidence made my heart race. "No! No! No!"
Hastily cleaning up, I grabbed a clean pair of panties and found a liner in my toiletry case. My hands were shaking, and my stomach lurched painfully as I tried not to imagine the worst. But that blood! All of that blood.
"Bianca?" Galina knocked on the door. "Are you okay?"
I wanted Sergei. I
needed
Sergei, but he wasn't here. His mother, the woman who had begged him not to marry me, was the only available to help me. The irony of that didn't escape me even in my panicked state.
"Bianca?" She knocked louder. "What is wrong?"
Trembling and on the verge of tears, I opened the door. Galina's brow was furrowed with concern. She touched my arm, and I sobbed pitifully, "I’m bleeding."
Shock slackened her face. A second later, she schooled her features and grasped my hand. "It's okay. Lots of women bleed. We go to hospital. Everything will be all right. Yes?"
I weakly shook my head, but I didn't believe her. That much blood could only mean one thing. My hand drifted to my belly and fresh tears dripped down my face.
"Sh," Galina embraced me and rubbed my back. "The baby is fine. You see."
As if I were a child, she took my hand and guided me around the hotel room, gathering up my purse and then hers. We left the suite and made our way to the elevators.
Once inside, she squeezed my hand. "When I was pregnant with Vovachka, I bleed every day for three weeks. He was healthy baby.
Big
baby," she added with a reassuring smile. "Just like Sergei."
I clung to her hand and her words.
Please, please, let my baby be okay.
Everything became a blur after that. Like a mother bear, Galina took charge. She had the hotel's valet hail us one of the waiting cabs and gave him directions to take us to the closest emergency room. She even made sure that I remembered to fasten my seatbelt. In my dazed state, I hadn't even noticed that I had forgotten.
Soon, we were in the waiting room of the hospital. My hand shook as I filled out the forms. I wanted to scream as the minutes ticked by on the clock mounted on the wall across form us.
Why weren't they calling me back? Why was this taking so long? My baby! God, my baby...
Finally, a nurse called my name. I gripped Galina's hand. "Come with me?"
She touched my cheek. "Let them try to stop me."
* * *
"So what are you going to do about the construction company and the offer to work at the gym?" Vladimir drained the last of his beer and dragged his bottom lip down the upper one to gather up the foam clinging to his skin.
Twirling a thin coaster on the pub tabletop, Sergei answered his brother honestly. "I like working with Ivan, but the boss was right. I have to think long-term, especially now with the baby. I talked to Ivan about it, and he understood my concerns. I'm at the gym to train every morning anyway so I'm partnering up with the fighters on the underground circuit to get them into shape. He's also asked me to go into the sparring rotation with some of his legitimate fighters. I might not have any official championship belts but I know things you can't learn in a sanctioned match."