Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Looking up, he said gently, “Prosti. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
“It’s okay if you make me worry. We – the baby and I – like to look after you, too.” And because the line felt too cheesy, enough to make her face red, she finished gruffly, “Got it?”
The billionaire laughed, but it was a hoarse sound, and Fredericka knew that there was still a part of him that wasn’t okay.
“You look gorgeous in the dress, pchelka.”
Ignoring his obvious attempt to change the subject, she said determinedly, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong. I’m just thinking...I don’t deserve to be this happy.”
Her eyes widened. “Why not?”
“I’m insecure, I suppose?”
Fredericka snorted.
“You do not believe me?”
“Sorry, but I don’t.” The billionaire flashed her a grin, but when she looked into his eyes, she was stunned to realize that he actually had meant it. For whatever reason, he did think he didn’t deserve to be happy. “Stupid,” she blurted out.
He raised a brow.
“Of course you deserve to be happy.” By this time, she became aware that all the salesladies in the boutique had gathered around them, shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from muttering, “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, but...I’m not letting you go. Got that?”
The billionaire laughed again, and standing up, he placed a quick, hard kiss on her lips, murmuring, “Understood, lyubov maya.”
And now it really was time, she thought. Hugging him, she hid her face against his neck because she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his expression as she whispered, “Good...lyubov maya.”
And when Sergei stiffened, he knew she understood what she was saying.
Lyubov maya translated to ‘my love,’ and she was his, just like he was hers.
Chapter Seventeen
Fredericka
“Are you certain you don’t need me to accompany you?” Sergei asked as he followed me outside the house. Now that I was in my second trimester, the urge to puke had lessened, but it had also been replaced by a persistent spell of dizziness as well as the occasional bodily aches. It had the billionaire paranoid, enough to have him filing a leave at work against my wishes. Unfortunately, his boss – a.k.a. his father, Fyodor – had wholeheartedly approved his request, also against my wishes.
Looking up at Sergei, I tried to sound casual, saying, “It’s just a silly reunion.” My voice squeaked in the end. This tended to happen whenever I was lying, which was exactly what I was doing right now.
“Then at least let me drive you.”
“I’m going to be fine, Sergei. Stop worrying.” Changing the subject, I asked in a rush, “How do I look, by the way?”
The billionaire frowned. “Since when did you start caring about your appearance?”
“Since, umm, lately?” I could feel myself paling as I struggled to keep up with the jumble of lies in my head.
“You’ve gone white,” the billionaire gritted out. “Are you feeling dizzy again?”
Appalled at making him worry unnecessarily, I shook my head firmly. “I’m okay. I just don’t, err, want to be late.” I gave him a tentative smile. “I’d take you with me if I could, but I don’t want you to feel awkward when they start fussing on you. I’m afraid they’ll take one look at your pretty face—-” When the billionaire grinned, I realized what I had just said and shut my mouth.
“I understand now,” Sergei murmured silkily. “You’re embarrassed they’ll ask you questions about your future trophy husband, and you wouldn’t be able to hide how much you love me.”
A groan of embarrassment escaped me. “Your Ego-ness, please.” I stared at him pleadingly. “Will you please show some more self-respect and stop referring to yourself as a trophy—-mmph!” Sergei’s mouth suddenly covered mine, cutting the rest of my words off.
But before I could kiss him back, he had already stopped kissing me and when I opened my eyes, he stared back at me with a mocking gleam in his dark gaze.
“I’d love to kiss you more, pchelka, but I don’t want you to be late.”
“Oh. Umm.” Staring at his lips longingly, I heard myself say, “I’m not, uh, really going to be late?” But he was already pushing me gently towards my car and helping me behind the wheel. Damn. Me and my big mouth.
“One last thing,” the billionaire murmured as he straightened.
I looked up at him hopefully.
“You asked me how you look and—-” A devastating grin curled on his lips. “You look like a woman who knows she’s loved.”
Oooooh. Driving with toes curled hard inside my shoes was a challenge, but I had gotten used to it. Every little thing the billionaire said or did had the most powerful impact on me lately, never mind if I still wasn’t sure that admitting my feelings for him had been the right thing to do. It had been three days since then, and boy, those three days had been quite the emotional rollercoaster.