Page 14 of Oops Baby for the Mafia Boss (Oops Baby #1)
MARKOV
I cover the steps to my car quickly. This feels right, even as Emily makes sounds that to anyone else might sound like protests.
I forgot the engagement ring—apparently being tortured is distracting—but this is clear. She’s mine. Literally every other social bullshit, law, or physical limitation, can fuck off.
“Put me down!” She smacks my back, but not very hard. “This is kidnap!”
I nod.
“You can’t just throw me over your shoulder and carry me away,” she says, with something between a laugh and a sob.
Evidently, I can.
“Especially not the shoulder bit. You might hurt the baby.”
That stops me dead.
With infinite care, I ease her down, supporting her with my body all the way until her feet touch the ground, still in the circle of my embrace. Then I gaze at her.
“Baby?” For the first time in my life, I do that stupid repeating thing. I’m that shocked.
“I’m pregnant,” she says timidly, placing one hand over her abdomen.
I’ve fallen to my knees before she can say anything more, leaning further to bring my cheek to where she’s cupping protectively.
“Mine,” I rasp.
My baby . Ours. I turn and press my lips to her stomach.
It’s probably the after-effects of the pepper spray, but my eyes are watering.
“You’re not upset?” she says faintly.
I shake my head, holding her hips as I have the unfamiliar sensation of looking up into her face.
She’s a goddess. I hide my grin with another kiss to her, as yet only very slightly curved, belly. I think I can feel the difference already compared to the way she looked before. I can’t believe I didn’t notice immediately, but I suppose I was a bit distracted.
My eyes are wet, and I blink the tears away.
“I know it’s unplanned,” she says in a rush, “but I’d like to keep it.”
“No.” I don’t continue quickly enough and her face falls. “It wasn’t unplanned,” I clarify gruffly.
I always intended to have children with her, and I couldn’t be more delighted that our first time did the trick.
“What?” She’s the picture of confusion.
Not that I don’t relish the idea of having her again. There’s so much for us to do now we’re together.
“I planned.” I get to my feet, but I don’t let go of her. She’s mine. She’s the mother of my baby, and we have a lot of catching up to do.
I open the car door and indicate for her to get in. One of my hands is firmly on her arm, even though I don’t think she’ll try to run. She wants this. And besides, she wouldn’t get very far.
“I can’t just leave with you,” she protests. “Where are you taking me?”
My eyebrows lower, and a growl rises in my throat. “Mortlake.”
“I’ve moved back in with my mother! I don’t even have a room in Mortlake anymore.”
I’m failing to hear anything in that which prevents her coming with me right now to my house, and staying.
“None of this makes any sense! It’s been three months. And why did you leave after we…?” She glances around. It’s a quiet cul-de-sac, but probably curtains are twitching everywhere.
I can’t describe the numerous reasons for that mistake, except that they boil down to, I fucked up and I’m not going to allow it to happen again now I’ve found you . She’s staying with me, whether she likes her daily multiple orgasms, baby, luxurious house, and a limitless credit card, or not.
So I don’t say anything. I use my larger body and greater strength to push her into the car.
“No!” She holds firm. Ish. “You have to talk to me, Markov.”
I grit my teeth, and continue with plan A.
“I need you to communicate .” But she grips the lapels of my suit jacket, gazing up with those big brown eyes. Not trying to get away, but pleading with me instead. And she says the one word that is designed to undo me when it’s from her lips.
“Please.”