Page 29 of A Nanny For The Bratva Boss
“We’ll take it,” I tell the guy.
“Wait!” Maya stands up. “Maybe we should check the pr…”
“No.”
“Mikhail…”
I cup her face, holding her gaze. “You like it?”
She stares at me. Eyes shining. “That’s not the question; it’s just…”
“Do. You. Like. It?”
She shakes her head, smiling through eyes filled with tears. “I love it.” Her voice is soft, so fucking soft. And all I can think is that I was put on this earth to make this woman happy. Safe. At peace. Cared for. Fucking spoiled.
I nod, pressing a brief kiss to her lips before turning to the beaming salesman. “Resize, then ring us up.”
When we leave, Maya’s staring at her hand, shaking her head disbelievingly. Her diamond catching the light.
“I can’t believe you did that.” I give her a sideway look that makes her laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
Nine
MAYA
I wake up the week before Christmas with a rock on my finger and a Russian mobster wrapped around me. Best. Life. Ever. And we haven’t even gotten out of bed yet. Mikhail’s still asleep, which is rare. He’s usually up before me, doing whatever intense morning routine Bratva bosses do. But right now, he’s dead to the world, his ruggedly handsome face buried in my hair, one heavy arm pinning me to the mattress.
I shift slightly, trying to catch my ring in the early morning light filtering through the curtains. It’s huge. The kind that makes people do double-takes. And I freaking love it. Every time I look at it, I remember the way he slid it on my finger. Like my broke ass wearing this massive rock is the most natural thing in the world.
“Stop staring at it,” he mumbles against my neck.
I yelp, startled. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. Until you started wiggling.”
I giggle. “I wasn’t wiggling.”
“Mmh.” He pulls me tighter against him. “Well, now I’m awake.”
“Sorry,” I reply with a huge grin.
His hand slides down my stomach, over my hip. “No, you’re not.”
I sigh, relaxing into his deliciously warm embrace, and the naughty things his expert fingers are already doing to my body. “Misha! It’s the week before Christmas,” I protest weakly through a moan.
“And?” he mumbles against my shoulder, his big dick poking at my ass.
“So we should get up. Start doing Christmas things.”
He lifts his head, giving me his ice-blue eyes. “What kinda Christmas things?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. Wrap gifts? Decorate?”
He grumbles, “Hmm.”
“Yes!” I laugh, trying to push at his massive chest. God, he’s strong. Hard all over. Warm… Maybe we don’t need to get out of bed right away?…
He grunts, dropping his head back into the crook of my neck, his full lips and expert tongue sending yummy shivers through my body. “We can be festive later.”
