Home > Her Russian Surrender (50 Loving States #10)(67)

Her Russian Surrender (50 Loving States #10)(67)
Author: Theodora Taylor

If he was like this now, what was he going to be like when the baby actually came? Would he be the one telling her what kind of diaper cream to use or weighing in on her breastfeeding options? This little quirk, she thought with an inward smile, could get annoying very fast. But it wouldn’t make her love him any less—

She paused, her insides curdling.

“What is wrong?” he asked. “Why do you suddenly freeze?”

“Um…” she said, scrambling to think of an excuse that didn’t involve her feeling something for him that he didn’t feel for her.

“Did I hurt you? The baby?”

“No, no,” she assured him out loud. At least not physically, she thought to herself.

She gave him her smile. Her best Sam smile. “I was just wondering what was on the agenda for breakfast. I am eating for two now…”

37

The answer to that question was a whole lot. She came out of the shower to a veritable feast. Breads, pastries, smoked meats, savory pies, fresh fruit, and an assortment of teas, all set up like a colorful brochure for Greek brunch on a white table standing between two sea blue rattan chairs.

“Eat. Now.” Nikolai issued the command as he headed out of the room. “I must make business call, but don’t wait. Eat.”

Apparently, Nikolai took claims of needing food very seriously, and that caused her stomach to twist as she watched the door close behind him. She’d only said she was hungry to get him off the subject of what had her so shook.

No, not past tense, even after a long shower, she was still feeling it. And now she stood there, staring at the food. Completely shaken by his overwhelming gesture of making sure she was fed before he went to make his call.

Her heart beat erratically, continuing to fill up with a love so big, it made her clutch at her stomach.

Nikolai had read her case file, but a case file didn’t tell you the real stuff. Like how she’d never been taken on a date by any man—much less one involving her favorite movie in an exotic location. No file would have pointed out to him that she had taken care of her mother for much of her life and then gone on to a career that involved taking care of other women just like her. She’d never cooked for herself before moving into his house, and only did so now because it was important to get good, healthy food into Pavel.

He had no way of knowing such huge, romantic gestures combined with something as simple as ordering her a crap ton of food would send her straight over the edge.

This was too much, she thought to herself. Too much…

Panic squeezed her chest tight and made her feel like the room was closing in on her.

Air. She needed air.

With her heart beating loud in her ears, Sam pushed through the balcony’s French doors. Once outside, she ran past the infinity pool to the white railing, gripping it tight as she dragged ragged breaths into her lungs. Willing herself to detach, to not feel what she was feeling. Willing herself to not have fallen head over heels in love with Nikolai Rustanov.

But it was impossible. He’d played his hand too well. Stepped to her better than any other guy ever had, including himself a few months ago. It was like a new Nikolai had taken her on this date, and this new Nikolai had found the special key. The one that unlocked all her doors, so he could just let himself into her heart. Easily. And now he was making himself at home, as if he’d always belonged there.

What had changed, she wondered. Why had he done all of this for her? It was like after telling her love was a silly custom and standing by that conviction when he asked her to marry him, he’d done a complete 180 and spent the last twenty-four hours practically forcing her to fall head over heels in love with him. But why would he do that? Why would he—

“Da, I did what you said, exactly what you told me.”

Nikolai’s heavily accented voice floated up to her, as if called forth by her panicked questions. Sam looked all around, but couldn’t see him.

“Da, it worked. Exactly like you said.”

Nikolai’s voice again. Sam realized it was coming from below. Nikolai must have gone down the stairs to make the call, not realizing she’d be able to hear him if she came out to the balcony. But of course, why would he think she’d be on the balcony when he’d left her in the hotel room with enough food to provide all of Ruth’s House with a morning brunch?

An unfamiliar sound suddenly split the air, deep and almost growly. Laughter, Sam realized after a confused second. Nikolai was laughing at something someone was saying on the other side of the phone!

“Da, she now acts like real wife in all ways, just as I wanted.” Nikolai sounded smug, like he’d just won the sex lottery. “You are better business man than me. Thank you for your good advice. I think I have no more problems with her. She is how you say—in my pocket now.”

Sam stumbled back from the railing, pain exploding inside her chest and head as complete understanding set in. With sudden clarity, she recalled Pavel’s birthday party. Watching Nikolai talk with his cousin, the expert businessman, with such a grim expression that she’d been somewhat concerned there was something terribly wrong with the team.

Shortly after she observed that conversation, Isaac had asked her about clearing her schedule. And two weeks later, they’d flown to Greece in his cousin’s jet.

It now dawned on her that it hadn’t been the team they’d been discussing with such grim faces, but her. How to fix it so Nikolai got exactly the kind of wife he wanted. One who put out. The perfect piece of ass.

How to make her surrender.

And despite the fact that he was long dead, she could hear her stepfather’s cruel laughter ringing across the gorgeous Greek sky.

38

Nikolai jogged back up the stairs with an unfamiliar lightness in his heart. A lightness that made him want to whistle. A lightness that made him wonder if he had time to keep the long delayed promise to his wife before the next leg of their trip. The one about making sure she liked how he would eat her for breakfast.

But the scene that greeted him when he opened the door brought him up short.

“Zhena, what is this?” he demanded.

Instead of sitting at the table as he’d expected, he found his wife fully dressed in a short-sleeved blouse and pencil skirt. Her purple suitcase was out on the bed and she was throwing things into it. Her things from last night, including the designer gold dress, which she crumpled into a ball before tossing it into her case.

She didn’t answer his question, just went into the bathroom and came out with a bunch of toiletries.

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