Page 43 of Tattooed Heart

“Again?” I tease when we break apart, both breathing heavily.

His eyes darken with desire. “I have weeks to make up for,malyshka.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” I breathe, sliding my hand down his chest.

He catches my wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Not yet.” His expression grows serious. “First, I want to see.”

I know immediately what he means. Last night was frantic, passionate, and driven by weeks of separation and need. We barely removed our clothes before he was inside me, both of us desperate for that connection. There had been no time for exploration or rediscovery.

I sit up slowly, the sheet falling away from my upper body. His eyes travel over my breasts, which have grown fuller with pregnancy. Then down to my stomach, where our child grows. I watch his face, see the wonder there, and feel a surge of love so powerful it takes my breath away.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmurs, sitting up to join me.

His fingers trace the curve of my belly with reverent care. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to where our baby rests.

“Moy rebenok,” he whispers against my skin.My child.

Tears prick my eyes. This man, who has killed without remorse, who has built an empire on blood and fear, is treating our unborn baby with such tenderness it fills my heart.

As if sensing my emotion, he looks up. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I assure him, wiping at a tear that has escaped. “It's just seeing you like this with our baby. It's everything I dreamed about when you were gone.”

He pulls me into his lap, my legs straddling his waist, my belly between us. His hands cup my face.

I lean forward and kiss him, pouring all my love, relief, and gratitude into it. He responds with equal fervor, his hands moving to my back to hold me against him. When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.

“Tell me about the baby,” he smiles. “Tell me everything I missed.”

I settle comfortably in his lap. “Well, according to the doctor, everything is developing perfectly.” I take his hand and place it on the side of my stomach. “If we're patient, you might feel a kick. The baby's been most active in the mornings lately.”

“Boy or girl?” he asks, his hand splayed protectively over my bump.

“I didn't want to find out without you,” I admit. “But Dr. Daria said she could tell at my last appointment. I told her I’d wait.”

Something soft and unexpected crosses his features. “You waited for me?”

I nod. “Some things should be shared.”

He is quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving my stomach. “Do you have a preference?”

I think about it. “Not really. I just want a healthy baby. Although...” I smile, thinking of the tiny clothes I couldn’t resist buying. “I may have purchased a few things in neutral colors. Just small things. I didn't want to jinx anything.”

“Superstitious?” he asks, a slight smile on his lips.

I shrug. “Cautious. The first trimester was difficult.”

But Dimitri knows me too well. His eyes narrow slightly, reading the things I’m not saying. “What happened? And don't say ‘nothing.’ I can see it in your eyes.”

I sigh, knowing it is pointless to hide things from him. “There was some bleeding early on. The doctor said it happens sometimes, that it wasn't necessarily a sign of trouble. But it scared me. I thought...” My voice catches. “I thought I might lose the baby too.”

I can see the muscles in his neck strain with tension. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“What would you have done from inside a prison cell, Dimitri? Break out? That would only have made things worse.” I place my hand over his, which still rests on my stomach. “By the time I saw you for that first visit, everything was fine. The doctor had confirmed the baby was healthy, and the bleeding had stopped. There was no point in worrying you.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but instead, he pulls me against his chest, burying his face in my hair. “No more secrets,malyshka. Not even to protect me. Promise me.”

I nod against his shoulder. “I promise.”

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