HER RUSSIAN SURRENDER (34 page)

“I know what I said!” he snarled. “But you—how you say—should observe things I do, not things I say!”

Now it was him taking a deep breath before he said, “I wanted you from first time I see you. From beginning. I told you that. First time I touch you, I have no control and I put baby inside you. I slept on floor because I couldn’t be in our bed without you. Your dog is no good guard dog and she make me rub her belly too much, but I pet her because she is yours. I took you to Greece, watched your strange movie about female detective. I told you things. Things I told no one before, not my cousin, not God, no one.”

He now looked at her like she was the one who’d done a cruel number on his heart and not the other way around. “I do these things because I want you to love me. Love me like you love Pavel. Love me like you love your useless dog. I do everything to make you love me. And now you say you can’t be sure I can learn love you?” he asked, his Russian accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. “How you not sure? How can you not see I already learn this? How can you not see I already love you?”

And that was the kill shot.

Nikolai swung his hockey stick and the puck went right into the goal. No matter what the damaged girl who still lurked inside of Sam was trying to tell her about the chances of someone like Nikolai loving someone like her… when she thought about it, really thought about it, she could no longer go on believing this man who had killed for her, who had protected her in every way, who had fulfilled her every need—even the ones she didn’t know she had—did not love her.

As Nikolai would say, of course he did.

She looked at him with tears and wonder in her eyes. So afraid to believe after all she’d seen and been through that the man sitting next to her was really offering her a happy ending. But…

“You love me?” she asked. Her heart trembled, as did her hand when she reached out to cup his cheek like he’d cupped hers a few minutes ago. “You love me like I love you?”

He immediately covered her hand with his much larger one, and pressed his face further into her palm, as if her touch, and only her touch, could soothe the wild hurt inside him.

“
Zhena, zhena
…” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “How you not know?”

She had no idea, and tears began to roll down her face because she was so ashamed. Ashamed of not guessing it sooner, of cutting their trip short.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not realizing.”

The apology was barely out of her mouth before she was in the air, being ferried across the cabin in Nikolai’s fireman carry and through the door to the neglected rear bedroom. His manner was urgent, but when they got to the bed, Nikolai set her down gently, once again unbuttoning her blouse, this time with great care, before he stripped out of his own clothes.

Sam watched him get naked with heavy anticipation, all the while her mind screaming like a teenage girl, “
He loves me! He loves me! He really loves me!”

As if reading her mind, he said, “
Da,
I love you,
zhena
.” Then he crawled into the large bed and covered her body with his before bracing himself above her on one arm. “But I must get inside you now. Please, I beg you.”

To his credit, he waited for her answer, keeping his hard length still at the entrance of her once again very slick folds.

“I want you inside of me,” she answered. “I love you so much, Nikolai. Please—” She didn’t have to finish her own beg. He reached down between them, and then…

Sam threw her head back with a moan. He was inside her. So thick and heavy, she could actually feel the pulse of his member against her inner walls. He rolled into her, carefully at first, until he found a rhythm that kept the stem of his cock against her clit as he thrust into her.

It was good, so good. Even better than before, because she didn’t have to bite her tongue about the way he made her feel. “I love you so much, Nikolai. So much. I’m sorry I didn’t realize…”

“
Muzehnek
,” he said harshly into the back of her neck. “Call me
muzehnek
when you say you love me from now on.”

“I love you,
muzehnek
,” she repeated, though she still had no idea what that word actually meant. Her heart soared into the sky. It was if she’d had a rubber band around it for all her life, and now Nikolai Rustanov had finally set it free.

But the words didn’t have the effect she expected. Instead of going all out, Nikolai came to an abrupt stop, reaching out to cup a hand around her neck, anchoring it so she could look at nothing else but his grave face as he said, “I love you, too,
zhena.”
Harsh and low, like he’d never been more serious about anything in his life. “You believe me,
da
?”

She nodded, too choked up to answer with words.

But Nikolai wanted the words. Seemed to need them as he insisted, “You believe me and you will stay with me? Always?”

“
Da
,” she whispered.

A happy smile spread over Nikolai’s face like sunshine on a gloomy winter day. It felt like that one word from her had made him the happiest man on earth, and that in turn made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

He started moving again, filling her deep and tight, as he silently drove himself into her, his hand still cupped around her neck. No more words were exchanged after that, and eventually they fell over the edge together, in silent communion, as an ocean of complete and utter ecstasy washed over them both.

He kept their bodies connected for as long as possible, bracing himself above her, and gracing her lips and neck with tender kisses until he finally went soft inside of her. Even then, he didn’t seem to want to let her go. He lay down, still holding on to her, even as he positioned himself behind her. He settled a hand over the gentle swell of her stomach, as if he were sheltering both their child and her in his large arms.

And Sam had to blink back more tears. She was still having trouble processing all of this. That she had somehow stumbled into a loving relationship with a man who understood her on the deepest levels, a beautiful man who forced her to communicate with him through mind-blowing sex—

“I will never call you Samantha,” he said behind her. “Never again.”

“What…? What changed your mind on that subject,” she asked.

“Pavel told me reason. About your stepfather calling you by that name. I don’t care if it sounds like I love another man. I will only call you Sam in future. Sam or
zhena
.”

She was going to get Pavel something insanely nice for Christmas this year, Sam decided. Like his own pony. Or maybe a trip to Disneyworld.

“Thank you,” she whispered in the dark.

“Please do not thank me for this. Of course, I would do this for you.”

He asked nicely, so she didn’t thank him again. Instead she gave thanks to Pavel and whatever other spiritual force had decided to bless her with this man.

The sky had darkened outside the plane’s small window, leaving the little room dim, with only the barest hints of sunlight. Sleep began to drag at Sam’s eyes,

But there was still one thing she had to know before she let her inner dreams take over the one she and Nikolai had created in the real world.

“What does ‘zhena’ mean?” she asked. “Is it some really cutesy term of endearment? Like flower, or honey, or kitten?”

His unfamiliar laugh sounded then, a deep rumble against her back. “Do you remember what I said to you when you come to my door on our wedding night?”

You do not want me to call you Samantha, and I do not want to call you by boy’s name. I will have to simply call you ‘wife’… Come in, Wife.”

Now Sam laughed, realizing out loud, “
Zhena
is Russian for wife! And
muzehnek
is Russian for husband.”

“
Da
…” he answered.

And this time she said it with him, “Of course!”

Epilogue

“I
think I should move back to the guest room.”

Nikolai lowered the Russian version of
What to Expect the First Year,
which he was almost done reading. He put it on his nightstand before turning in bed to face his wife who was sitting up in their bed.

“
Zhena…
” he growled, fully prepared to do battle.

“No, no, just hear me out. You’ve got a lot going on right now with the new hockey season starting this month, and I know I’ve been keeping you up. If I moved back to the guest room, then you wouldn’t have to put up with me tossing and turning because I can’t find a comfortable position. And also, you’d have more space in bed. I mean…. look at me. I’m basically a beached whale.”

He did look at her. Nearly full term with a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead, despite the fact that it was fall and the air conditioner was set at a freezing sixty-five with the fan rotating on high overhead. Luckily he was Russian and could handle the lower temperature. He’d had to give Pavel one of the winter quilts, and had thrown an old blanket over Back Up.

So yes, his wife was huge, and a bit sweaty. But he’d still put her up against any rail thin super model as the most beautiful woman in the world.

“You are uncomfortable,
zhena
,” he said. “I will help you.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

Too late. He rolled over to her side of the bed, and his head was between her legs before she could finish her protest.

“You really don’t have to do this every time I complain about…” Sam moaned. “Oh God, why are you so good at that?” she asked. Her hands came to rest in his hair, and he could see her head falling back against the pillow rest she jokingly referred to as “her other
muzehnek
.”

It wasn’t a joke he was particularly fond of but it showed how much he’d grown that instead of throwing the thing out when his
zhena
wasn’t looking, he used his ire as an excuse to redouble his efforts to make her comfortable in ways that a standing pillow could not.

Tonight was no different and he was soon rewarded for his efforts with his favorite sight: his wife rubbing on her full breasts with her eyes closed, tweaking her distended nipples as he worked her over with his tongue. These days he knew when she was getting close, when she started moaning,
muzehnek
, over and over again.

And though this had started out as a way to make her more comfortable, by taking her mind off the heat only she could feel, he found he still had a distinct problem with wanting to fuck his wife. All the time.

“
Zhena
…”

He didn’t have to finish. She heaved herself up and flipped on to her hands and knees, throwing a few pillows under her full belly. The books had warned him he might want her less as she got bigger, but as he put himself inside her hot, slick womanhood, he knew it to be nothing less than his most erotic dreams coming true. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting this woman less. She’d wormed her way into his soul, and even when they were in the same room together, it felt like something was missing when he wasn’t inside of her.

He shoved the pretend
muzehnek
off the bed and started moving behind her with urgent thrusts, his hands tight on her hips. As always with her, it felt right. Like coming home to a warm fire after a lifetime of feeling left out in the cold.

“I love you,
muzehnek
,” she cried underneath him.

Love. He’d been so scared of it before, and now these were his favorite four words on the planet.

He leaned down over her, careful to support himself on one heavily muscled arm in order to keep as much of his weight off of her as possible. “I love you, too,
zhena
.”

Then they exploded together, twin suns forming in a perfect universe.

However, he didn’t let himself linger inside of her, no matter how much he wanted to. The baby was large, maybe too large for her small body he sometimes worried, and he didn’t want to cause her even a second of a discomfort by keeping her in this position too long. He allowed himself one appreciative glance at the view of her from behind, her ample ass in the air, the braids she’d gotten put in recently to see her through her maternity leave fanned out over her arched back. Then he set to rearranging the pillows like a nest around her, in just the way his wife liked, because he knew she’d soon be asleep.

Sex was the best way to help her “feel comfortable” on these hot fall nights. It was also the best way to help her fall asleep. In fact, there’d been a night earlier in the week when she’d been already softly snoring by the time he’d gotten the last pillow arranged.

But not tonight. Tonight she sat down inside the newly made pillow nest, grimacing with her hand on the side of her belly.

“He is upset with us again,” Nikolai guessed. Sometimes, the baby they’d already decided to name Alexei, staged protests when their lovemaking got a little too vigorous for his taste. Baby Alexei had no idea how little his demonstrations deterred his father, since Nikolai adored feeling his son move inside his wife’s belly. Loved the confirmation that he was alive and well.

But this time when Nikolai reached out to touch his wife’s belly, she shook her head, pushing away. “Don’t. I think… I think I’m having a contraction.”

His eyes widened.

“No actually,” Her face seized up in pain and she fell over on her side. “I know I’m having a contraction. Ow…!”

WHEN SHE’D FIRST MET Nikolai Rustanov, Sam had turned down his advances without a second thought, because she’d been so sure he would hurt her.

And she’d been right.

She’d been utterly and completely right, Sam thought as she breathed through another contraction. She hated Nikolai Rustanov, really hated him.

Except when she loved him. Like when he was holding her hand through contractions and promising her he’d get her something to eat, whatever she wanted as soon as she was all done. And when he kissed her forehead, saying he understood why she’d told another man—the male anesthesiologist—that she loved him, and that he wouldn’t hold it against her later.