Page 5 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

She nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Before he could guess her intent, she crashed her open palm against his cheek, drawing gasps of surprise and shock from his men and everyone in the bar.

Mikhail carefully placed his emotions under lock and key and remained as still as a statue while he waited for the explanation that was no doubt coming.

Chapter 4 - Mira

Mira had always detested violence thanks to years of watching her father and the men of his Bratva commit many seriously violent atrocities that would give any normal person gray hair to witness.

Of course, Papa had never known that she was watching. From a young age, she’d perfected the art of hiding behind curtains and in cupboards and watching as her father met rebellion or enmity with vicious retaliation.

Now, she looked down at her own palm in disbelief. Had she really just slapped another human being?

She looked up at the strong, silent, stranger in front of her and sure enough, angry red welts were already outlining the imprint of her palm on his cheek.

Tears of contrition sprang to her eyes as she dragged her tortured gaze up to his own. His eyes were wiped clean of all emotion as he looked back down at her, exuding nothing but patience and calm.

He seemed to be waiting for something, though. In a flash, she realized he was politely waiting for an explanation.

An explanation? Wasn’t it obvious?

Her tears of contrition vanished, to be replaced by ire.

“What gave you the right to punch a man for hitting on me?” she demanded. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

He looked from her to the fallen man who was struggling up to a seated position, one hand clutching his crotch and the other trying to staunch the blood oozing from his nose. Then he looked back at her and dark amusement shone down from the depths of his eyes.

Mira grabbed his lapels. “What gives you the right to behave like an absolute lunatic just because a man showed an interest in me? Am I your girlfriend?”

Something changed imperceptibly in his eyes as she said the word girlfriend. She couldn’t be certain what it was, but in a flash, she knew that though his facial expression hadn’t changed, he’d gone from detached amusement to boiling fury in a nanosecond.

A startling thought shot through her mind. Was he one of her father’s men? But she had never seen him before. She gave him a small shake. She was nearing panic as cold certainty settled in her stomach—he had to be one of Oleg Dostoevsky’s stooges.

“Explain yourself. Who the hell are you? Who sent you?”

He looked down at her small hands balled into the material of his shirt, then he lifted suddenly bored eyes to hers. “Don’t flatter yourself, little girl. You’re nowhere near the league of women I would date.”

She wasn’t fazed by the insult. She shook him again, jerking her head toward the man on the floor. “Then?”

“I’ll be damned if I let any woman fall prey to date-rape drugs,” he ground out.

Mira blanched, her hands loosening from his lapel in shock as she staggered back a few steps. Sure, she’d come to the club to lose her virginity but…not like that! Everything in the man’s face shone with sincerity and she knew he wasn’t lying.

“What?” she managed to croak.

“Your friend here threw a tablet into your glass when you were trying to get up off the barstool. I only hit him to save your life,” he said.

Without waiting for her to fully recover from that shattering discovery, he spun on his heels and melted into the crowd, leaving her shaken to her core.

Mira suddenly felt very small and very cold. What was she doing here? She didn’t belong here. She was just a stupid little girl who was angry with her father and had thought to rebel, and she’d almost gotten killed for it.

She looked up at the gathered faces of the people in the crowd. They all looked hostile, probably because they’d heard every word and thought she was an ungrateful chit. Cold descended on her and she began to shiver. She looked around for help, but in her sudden fear, all she saw were other potential rapists.

Mira wanted to go home so badly that she almost called her father to send someone for her that instant. She tried to take a step, but her knees had gone numb and wouldn’t cooperate.

The crowd, as though they sensed her inner turmoil, began to disperse. As they slid away back to their various booths and tables, Mira still felt as though all eyes were on her. Goosebumps began to crop up on her hands and her shivering intensified until her teeth began to chatter audibly.

She spied an empty table in a corner and forced her knees to cooperate as she stumbled toward it. She flopped gratefully into the seat at the table and looked up in time to see the club’s security grabbing the guy who’d attempted to drug her and hoisting him out the door.

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