Page 176 of His Forced Bride

"Our baby," I agree and feel the flutter of movement beneath our joined hands.

Two months ago, when the doctor confirmed what I suspected, Yuri didn't speak for a full ten minutes.

Then he lifted me onto his desk, pushed everything else aside, and made love to me like it was our wedding night all over again.

He's horrible at saying how he feels, but I'm learning to read him like a book, and when he's ready, he puts those things into words for me.

Now he tracks my every breath, monitors my sleep, and has Rosa report on everything I eat.

The attention would suffocate most women.

It intoxicates me.

His hovering is endearing, and I can only say that because the instant I tell him to back off, he does.

"I need to review the Milan contracts today," I say, but I'm in no hurry to leave the bed where we lie naked and tangled together.

It's warm, and the air in this room is chilled to a balmy temperature thanks to his air conditioning.

"They can wait."

"The Tokyo buyers arrive this afternoon."

"Dmitri can handle the initial meeting."

His dismissal of business responsibilities would've horrified me once.

Now I understand.

Some moments matter more than profit margins.

For him, this moment must matter more.

So I snuggle in closer to him, slide my hand beneath the blanket to wrap around his girth, and find him responsive to my touch.

"Do you regret forcing me to marry you instead of finding someone who chose you freely?"

My mind wanders to that topic too often to let it go, and I've asked this question before, but I love hearing his answer because it always ignites hunger in him for me.

Yuri's laugh is dark with amusement.

"You think you didn't choose me?"

"I think I had a gun pointed at my ribs."

"For the ceremony, yes."

His thumb traces circles on my belly.

"But you chose me every day after. When you could've run, you stayed. When you could've fought me, you fought beside me instead."

I remember the day I killed my mother—how Yuri stood behind me afterward, letting me process what I'd done.

When I finally turned to him, expecting judgment or disgust, I found only acceptance.

It was self-defense, and it wasn't supposed to be that way, but I can't undo the past.

I think that was the moment I realized why my father wanted me to marry into this family.