Page 57 of Pregnant By the Russian Pakhan

The priest who had been reading the funeral rites paused in his reading to bend a censorious look upon her over the rim of his spectacles and Mira gulped in horror. She had just been caught laughing at her own father’s funeral.

What must everyone think of her? They had no way of knowing she had been thinking of something else. No, someone else, she corrected herself as she stole a look at the culprit.

Mikhail was standing in solemn silence beside her, but when she looked at him, he muttered, “Wicked Witch.”

The words were in obvious reference to her earlier laughter at her own father’s funeral. The unexpected words made another horrified laugh spring to her lips and she barely choked it off by converting to a cough.

The priest fell silent, glaring openly at her now with his eyebrows levitated in ire on his wizened face.

“Shall we continue the burial of your father ma’am?” he rasped.

Mira felt lower than dirt but before she could think up a response, Mikhail took her hand in his and said in a hard cold voice, “What are you asking her for? You’re the one delaying the funeral. Get on with it.”

His tone brooked no argument and every eye hastily swung back to the coffin, including the priest’s.

Warm gratitude flooded Mira and she looked up at his strong, unyielding profile. If this wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was. He had protected her in front of everyone and offered his support by taking her hand.

Mikhail sure knew how to take one for the team. He hadn’t minded that he could have been humiliated just like she had been. He had immediately stepped in and protected her uncaring of what admonitions could have been hurled at him.

The funeral ended just then and as people began to come up to her to tell her just how sorry they were for her father’s passing, Mira felt like a hypocrite. She didn’t know the man they were talking about. They all had nice things to say about the stranger whom had never given her so much as the time of day.

As though he had sensed her confusion, Mikhail leaned in and whispered, “Ignore them. No one speaks ill of the dead. Your father could have been Jack the Ripper and someone would still have found something glowing to say about him.”

Another horrified chuckle escaped her lips. This time though he froze in the process of patting a mourner’s head, the priest didn’t bother with a glare in her direction. He just shook his head and stalked off in dignified ire.

Mira sighed. At this rate, she would probably make it into the priest’s little black book of terrible sinners.

Did priests keep such books? She wondered worriedly.

She tugged at Mikhail’s arm, “Do you think priests keep a black book of the worst sinners they encountered?”

He gave a dark chuckle, “Do you think this one would include your name in his little list if he had one?”

She glared at Mikhail. “It’s not funny, Mikhail. He thinks I’m horrible. He’s a priest. He’s got a direct line to God. What if he complains about me?”

“It doesn’t work that way, Mira,” he laughed.

“Do you know that for sure? I bet he’s never seen anyone laugh at her father’s funeral. But I swear I didn’t mean to,” she added, biting worriedly on her lower lip.

He flicked her an assessing glance and then said, “Fine. I’ll send one of the men after him to break both his arms.”

“What?” she sputtered, taken aback at the non sequitur. “But why?”

“If he can’t write ever again, he can’t put your name in any black book,” he told her reasonably. “And if he cannot put your name in some black book, he can’t complain about you. Problem solved.”

Mira was appalled. “Would you really hurt him if you thought I wasn’t happy with something he did?”

“If he made you sad for even a second, I would throw in his kneecaps, too, for the heck of it,” he said seriously.

Mira knew in that moment with absolute certainty that he loved her. He had to. He was possessive, protective, and passionate about her. He played with her, joked with her, and seemed to have a perplexing ability to read her mind.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “When we get home tonight Mikhail, I’m going to do things to you in bed that will make you lose your mind.”

His eyes glinted with immediate interest. She didn’t bother to look downwards; the fire kindling in his eyes said he was already aroused.

He bent to place a kiss on her earlobe as he whispered, “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get to it at once.”

Mira let the love she was feeling shine through her eyes. She saw his gaze darken and then he pulled her in for a bold, toe-curling kiss, uncaring of whoever was watching them.

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