Page 59 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride

It’s just us…it’s nice.

Caressing her skin, I tell myself to keep it in—to hold back.

But having her eyes on me like that, I can’t help myself.

Leaning in closer, I let my lips brush against her ankle, peering up at her to watch as her brows lift almost indiscernibly before a faint shiver moves through her.

Victoria doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t pull away, either.

Instead, there’s another shift in her gaze, and she swallows hard.

Taking that as a good sign, I continue, slowly kissing up her leg and scarcely taking my eyes away from her.

After having to endure her lovestruck demeanor, regardless of its sincerity, and forcing myself to behave among everyone else, that resolve of mine has crumbled.

And in that moment, while I slowly caress her skin with my lips while she breathes a bit heavier, I can’t help but wonder if my request of her was my undoing in disguise.

Sliding my fingers along her smooth calf, I reach higher, feeling as she shivers. It sends an immediate thrill down my spine, and I don’t know how much more I can take.

“Roman…” Victoria whispers, sounding like such a sinful prelude for what’s to come…

I reach just beneath her knee as I hum, allowing myself to give in to that desire.

“Roman…” she repeats, heightening my senses before her next words reach me. “I might be pregnant.”

I freeze, and the words seem to detonate in that little space between us.

At first, I wonder if I misheard her…but those words echo again and again until I have no choice but to lift my head and look her in the eyes.

Pregnant.

Victoria watches me closely, dripping with more vulnerability and a touch of worry. She’s waiting for me to say something—anything, apparently.

Forcing my brain to reboot, I murmur, “How long?”

“I’m late by two weeks.”

Her voice is small and unsure, but it makes something stir in me—that protective urge.

There’s a beat of silence between us that feels so full of unspoken things.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

Touche.

It feels like half a century goes by before my mind catches up fully, and the reality of that confession grips me by the neck.

A baby…our baby.

An heir of my own.

The thought alone makes something come alive within me, and I can’t stop myself from moving closer and nearly invading her space.

Reaching forward, I cup her cheek, not allowing her to look away from me.

“Are you afraid?”