Page 44 of Tattooed Heart

We stay like that, the silence comfortable between us. His hands move soothingly up and down my back, and I feel myself fully relaxing for the first time in months.

“Are you hungry?” he asks eventually, his voice rumbling under my ear.

As if on cue, my stomach growls loudly, making both of us laugh.

“I'll take that as a yes,” he says, kissing my head before gently shifting me off his lap. “Stay here. I'll find us something to eat.”

I salute playfully. “Yes, sir.”

He shakes his head, smiling as he pulls on a pair of black sweatpants that hang low on his hips. I enjoy the view of his bare chest as he moves around the room, the muscles in his back shifting beneath his tattooed skin.

“I'll be back,” he promises, pausing at the door to look at me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. “Don't get dressed.”

The door closes behind him, and I fall back against the pillows, smiling at the ceiling. For the first time in months, the knot of anxiety in my chest has loosened. Dimitri is here. He is safe. And for now, at least, we are together.

I stretch luxuriously in the large bed, enjoying the feel of the expensive sheets against my bare skin. The Avilov mansion is opulent in a way that still makes me uncomfortable sometimes. It is a far cry from my modest apartment.

I let my hand rest on my stomach, feeling a subtle movement beneath my palm. “Your papa is home,” I whisper. “I told you he would come back to us.”

Another flutter, stronger this time, as if in response. I smile, imagining the tiny life inside me, already forming its personality and will. Will the baby have Dimitri's coffee-colored eyes and commanding presence? My tendency to speak without thinking? Will it be stubborn like both of us?

The sound of the door opening pulls me from my thoughts. Dimitri enters carrying a tray loaded with food. Toast, fruit, what looks like scrambled eggs, and two steaming mugs of coffee.

“Breakfast in bed?” I beam, sitting up and adjusting the pillows behind me. “You really are trying to impress me.”

He sets the tray down carefully across my lap. “Is it working?”

I pretend to consider. “Well, that depends. Is that regular coffee I smell? Because if you're trying to give me decaf, I might have to reconsider this relationship.”

He smirks, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Half-caf. Doctor's orders. Talia told me.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “You two ganging up on me is not fair.”

“All's fair when it comes to keeping you and the baby healthy.” He picks a strawberry from the plate and holds it to my lips. “Now eat. You need your strength.”

I bite into the fruit, the sweetness bursting on my tongue. “For what?” I ask innocently, licking juice from my lips.

His eyes darken as he watches the movement. “For when I'm done letting you eat.”

A shiver of anticipation runs through me, but I force myself to focus on the food. He’s right. I need to eat. The baby needs nourishment, and I haven’t taken the best care of myself with Dimitri gone. I had too many sleepless nights and too many skipped meals because anxiety stole my appetite.

We eat in comfortable silence, Dimitri occasionally feeding me bites from his plate. When we finish, he takes the empty tray and sits it beside the bed. His hand moves to my neck, his thumb tracing my jawline. “Remember the first time we met?"

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at the memory. “You were being an ass,” I chuckle.

“You threatened to stab me with Aleksandr’s letter opener,” he remarks, a hint of amusement tugging at his mouth.

“You deserved it,” I shoot back, giving his arm a playful smack. “You told him to lock me in the basement!”

I cross my arms with a dramatic huff. “You said it was for my protection from Vic and his goons. But then you muttered it was to shut me up.” I stick out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

“I did want you safe from Vic,” he states, leaning in to kiss my shoulder softly, “but I also wanted you far away from me.”

“What?” I blink. “Why? I didn’t do anything to you.”

“No,” he murmurs, voice low and thick, “but I knew what I wanted.”

His hand drifts from my neck to my shoulder, then traces slowly down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

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