Page 72 of Hers to Command

“You don’t have to like it,” Anya replies, her tone sharp but not angry sounding. “You just have to respect it. Like I had to.”

Mikhail exhales heavily, glancing at Gianna, who gives him a small nod. Finally, he steps back, though the tension in his posture doesn’t fully ease.

“I’ll respect it,” he says, his voice firm. “But you’d better not expect me to trust him.” He jerks his chin toward me and I’m starting to find his attitude more than a little annoying, but I know better than to mess with my new in-laws. Or at least, I know better than confronting Mikhail about it right now.

We might have to have a one-on-one eventually, but that’s a future problem.

Still, I intentionally smirk at him, stepping up beside Anya and wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. “Fair enough,” I say, keeping my tone light but my gaze unyielding. “As long as you understand that she’s not going anywhere.”

Mikhail’s eyes narrow, but before he can respond, Gianna interjects, her tone firm. “That’s enough. I believe you invited us here for dinner, no?”

“Yes,” Anya agrees easily, “let’s head to the dining room. The others are already waiting for us.”

We all settle around the table and even though I’ve been in plenty of tense business meetings, this group makes any of them seem like a kid’s birthday party. Eric is watching Sergei, Sergei has his eye on Toni, who in turn is staring at Mikhail, who must still be staring daggers my way. At the same time, Gianna is curiously watching Mia, who is smiling at Anya, who is clearly trying to ignore the whole thing and is instead signaling to Mrs. Batton that we are ready for appetizers.

Ignoring the caterers, I lift my glass. “To new alliances, new family connections, a new power balance in Toronto, and to my beautiful new wife.”

Gianna raises her own glass. “To the future,” she says.

One by one, the others follow suit, lifting their glasses in agreement. After that, we eat dinner, making small talk that steers away from business.

As far as family dinners go, it’s a significant improvement to my childhood, and watching Anya moan around her spoon when she tries the Vanilla Panna Cotta actually means the evening is much more pleasurable than expected.

Epilogue

Anya

Ihaven’t taken my birth control pills in over two months. Not because I didn’t notice Riccardo taking them away or because I couldn’t find them. He put them in his office desk drawer, the first place I looked, but because I can’t get Riccardo’s words out of my head.

Do you know how good you’d look pregnant?

Not that it’s about how I’ll look when I’m pregnant. No. I just like that he wants to knock me up. In fact, I haven’t been able to think about anything else and my ovaries are drooling over my husband.

A little girl who would grow up knowing she’ll be able to take over for us one day. Or a little boy who’d look just like his daddy.

Another person to join our family.

I want that. And the best part? It rarely takes much to convince Riccardo to try for one. In fact, it barely takes me walking into a room to get him horny.

And that’s exactly how I like it.

Still, I didn’t buy this new lingerie set to catch dust in the closet. Nope. I bought it to seduce the man who is about to make me a mama.

I walk past Bethany’s desk, receiving a polite nod. By now, she’s used to me dropping by Riccardo’s office whenever I like. I open his office door without knocking, open my coat, and lean casually against the frame as I take him in. He’s at his desk, one hand resting next to his keyboard, the other resting on a stack of papers, his tie loosened and shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to show the muscles of his forearms.

He doesn’t look up at first, not expecting me and too focused on whatever is in front of him. But when he does, his gaze catches on the lace and silk barely covering me. He leans back in his chair, giving me all of his attention. His expression darkens as his eyes roam over every inch of me, taking in the sheer panels, the delicate straps, and the way the fabric clings to my curves. He really does like seeing me dress up and the fancy dress he got me is no longer the only high fashion item he’s gifted me. Though, this piece, I picked out myself.

I step into the room, letting the door click shut behind me. All Bethany got to see was the back of my coat, though she might suspect what we’re up to next. My heels echo softly on the hardwood floor as I approach his desk, and he leans back in his chair, his attention solely on me.

“I thought you might need a distraction,” I murmur, stopping just shy of his reach.

His eyes flick to my face, then back down, and he doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he pushes his chair back justenough to give me room, a silent invitation I don’t need twice. I round the desk slowly, sliding onto it in front of him, my thighs brushing his knees.

His hands are on me immediately, rough palms skimming up my legs, over the lace garters that hold my stockings in place. He grips my thighs firmly, parting them, and I arch an eyebrow at his impatience.

“Riccardo,” I start, but whatever teasing I intended dies on my lips when his mouth finds my skin. He starts at my knee, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of my thigh, his stubble grazing me just enough to make me shiver. His hands slide higher, pushing the hem of the lace teddy up until it pools around my waist.

The heat of his breath trails over me, and I gasp when he bites down, just enough to leave a mark. He doesn’t stop there. Instead, he pulls me forward until I’m perched on the edge of the desk, his hands spreading me wide for him.

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