Page 43 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

“My point is, it takes more energy to frown than it takes to smile. You need all your strength right now,” he reasoned.

Mira chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be one of those overbearing, overzealous husbands. So now I can’t even frown in peace because I’m carrying your child?”

“Think of it this way; is it more important to frown at me and faint from the effort or to smile and conserve your energy?”

She thought about it for a minute and apparently didn’t like the reasonable answer that sprang to mind. She stuck out her tongue at him instead in a surprisingly childish display.

He ignored her and strode toward the house. He carried her upstairs at once and placed her on the bed.

“Do you need anything?” he demanded, striding to the windows to fling open the drapes so she could see the great outdoors even from her bed.

Before she could answer, the door was flung open and Sarah raced in, her face ashen with worry.

“Mira? What happened? Why did you have to be carried in just now? Did anything happen on your drive?” She shot the questions in rapid-fire succession, then she belatedly spied Mikhail by the windows and immediately became nervous.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t realize you were still here,” Sarah apologized, already backing out of the room.

He wanted to stop her, but then he thought better of it. He needed to talk to Mira. They were going to be parents, and it would be in very bad taste if they were at each other’s throat, even with a baby between them.

As soon as Sarah left the room, he sank onto the side of the bed and took one of Mira’s hands in his. “It’s not my intention to get you anxious or petrified in any way; and it certainly wasn’t my intention to harm you on that trip. I just needed to be alone with you where we could talk away from Sarah’s influence.”

She frowned. “Sarah?”

“You’ve been trying to kill me ever since she got here. I had to think she had something to do with it.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “Leave Sarah alone. And what makes you think I’ve been trying to kill you?”

“You’re not a killer, Mira. You’ve never killed anyone. You’re bound to be an amateur at it.”

She pressed her lips together and stayed silent.

He pressed on. “I know you didn’t put poison in my drink twice just for the heck of it. You’ve been trying to kill me. I just want to know why. Is this about the old feud between our families, or did I do something worth dying for in your books?”

To his shock, tears began to swim in her large, expressive eyes. “You killed my mother.”

“What now?” he demanded in utter shock.

“Don’t bother denying it,” she spat. She grabbed her phone and opened a photo, holding out her phone to him.

He took the phone carefully and looked at it for a second before returning it to her. “All this over a picture?”

She lifted her chin. “Don’t you dare trivialize my pain. It’s not just a picture. It’s evidence that you killed my mother.”

Mikhail took her hand. “I swear to you, Mira, I never killed your mother. She was already dead when I got there. I pulled the knife out to try to help her, but I was too late.”

He looked straight into her eyes, letting her read the sincerity in his gaze.

Her eyes searched his desperately, almost as though she was afraid to believe what he was telling her.

“How do I make you believe me? Whoever took this picture knows the truth. Who sent it?” he asked.

“My father,” she croaked.

“Of course he did. He doesn’t want us together, Mira. Surely that should be obvious. Think about it, has he ever accused me of killing your mother until now? Until after we got married?”

He saw stunned realization enter her eyes. She looked at him and carried his hand to her stomach. “Swear on our unborn child you didn’t kill my mother.”

“I swear it, Mira. I am many things, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never needed to be,” he added.

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