She shot him a mischievous smile. "Knowing you, I doubt I'll get much sleep."
He drew an X over his heart. "I promise I'll be a good boy and keep my hands to myself."
She ran her hand up along the denim covering his thigh and came dangerously close to touching his cock. "Not too good of a boy, I hope."
With a low growl, he warned her not to test him in the back seat of the cab. She smirked and kept her hand right there, just inches from the throbbing heat trapped behind denim. By the time they reached the hotel, he was fucking aching for her. Somehow he managed to force down his erection so he could actually get out of the cab and oversee the transfer of their luggage from the cab to the bellhop's trolley. Once inside the lobby, Bianca handled their check-in.
He stood behind her, silently observing the bustling scene surrounding them. While she requested extra keys for his mother and brother who would be joining them he next day, Sergei heard the happy squeals of two young children. They seemed out of place in the lobby of the four-star hotel, and he zeroed in on the grinning, sticky faces of two preschool aged girls darting in and out of the crowd. They were the cute kids.
My baby will look like that
. The thought hit him right in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. The little girls were mixed race with skin like honey and dark curly hair pulled into pigtails that bounced as they ran circles around a column. Their harried mother, a thirty-something blonde, finally caught up with them, but it was their smiling father, a man who could have easily been part of Bianca's family, who swung them up in his arms and playfully nibbled at their necks.
"You okay?" Bianca rubbed his arm and drew him out of his thoughts. Her gaze settled on the family that gave them a glimpse at their future. Smiling, she said, "Cute."
"Very," he agreed and slid his arm around her back. Side by side, they walked to the elevator with the bellhop not far behind. If they had been alone in the elevator, he would have pushed her up against the gleaming gold wall and pressed his knee between her thighs while ravishing her mouth. Seeing the family that resembled theirs had done something primal to him. If she hadn't already been pregnant, he damned well would have wanted to change that.
On edge and fueled with lust, he barely managed to hold onto his patience while the bellhop unloaded their bags. He shoved a handful of foreign notes at the man and thanked him before herding him out the door and locking it behind him. By the time he found Bianca in the bedroom, she had already stripped down to her bra and panties.
"You know," she said slowly, her movements vixenish and enticing, "it occurred to me when I saw that family down in the lobby that this is probably the only vacation we'll ever take without kids."
Awestruck by the delicious sight before him, Sergei stood perfectly still and watched her reach back to unsnap her bra. When her luscious breasts were bared to him, he raked his teeth against his lower lip. After quickly toeing off his shoes, he crossed the distance between them in five quick strides and swept her up into his arms. He deposited her onto the middle of the fancy hotel bed and crawled over her.
In between kisses that left her breathless and giggling, he said, "Then we had better make the most of it…"
My stomach did wild flips as I tried to pay attention to the movie. I couldn’t tell if it was morning sickness or nervousness. It was probably both. The jet lag had worsened my pregnancy fatigue and made me more queasy than usual. So far, I'd managed to keep our secret, but I had a feeling the truth was going to be out before the end of this trip. One whiff of stinky perfume or cologne at the wrong time, and all of our friends would piece together the clues when I went running from the room.
Hugging a throw pillow, Vivian sat next to me on the couch in the hotel suite while we waited for Sergei to return from the airport with his brother and mother. She had said that she wanted to be here for moral support and to help with any translation issues that might arise if Sergei and Vladimir wanted to talk alone and leave me with his mother, but I sensed she really just didn't want to be the third wheel at Yuri and Lena's place. Not that they ever would have made her feel that way, but it couldn't have been easy for her.
Nikolai still hadn't made it to London. Even Sergei didn't know the details of what was keeping him in Houston. Whatever it was, it must have been serious or dangerous or dangerously serious. I hadn't had the heart to ask Vivian if her husband would be here in time for her Friday night show. I hoped so. For her sake and his.
"Do you want to grab lunch tomorrow? I was thinking of visiting some shops and seeing some of the fashion hotspots while Sergei does some things with his family."
She shook her head and picked at the fringe on the throw pillow. "I would love to go, but I've already promised Niels that I'd let him take me to some art galleries and a late lunch."
"Oh." I wondered if that was such a good idea. Vivian was obviously feeling vulnerable and hurt right now, and Niels? Well, the obscenely rich Dane who had taken it upon himself to open doors into the international art scene for her had made it plainly clear to anyone with eyes that he wasn't just interested in her paintings. She played it off as nothing, and I'm sure to her it was. She loved Nikolai and probably couldn't fathom ever entertaining the affection of another man, but Niels? He had a certain reputation, and it made me nervous to think my emotionally wounded friend would be alone with him for any amount of time.
"Why don't we do something on Thursday?" she suggested. "Maybe we could see if Lena and Erin want to come?"
"Sure. That sounds nice."
"I'll call them tomorrow and make arrangements."
We were talking about some of the shops we wanted to visit when the door of the suite beeped twice and started to open. I practically jumped to my feet. Anxiety rushed through me, made my belly lurch and my chest tighten. Rising more slowly, Vivian stood next to me and gently clasped my hand. She pumped my fingers with hers and winked reassuringly. I relaxed at the knowledge that she would guide me through this first meeting with Sergei's mother.
A man who could have been Sergei's twin sauntered through the door carrying small wrapped gifts. He shared the same dark hair and dark eyes and the giant frame of his elder brother. His friendly grin immediately set me at ease. There was a telltale bump in his nose that told me it had been broken, probably more than once. Apparently fighting was in the Sakharov family's blood.
The woman who followed Vladimir was shorter than I had expected. I had seen photos of Galina Sakharovna, of course, but Vladimir and Sergei had always been sitting on either side of her. She shared their dark hair and eyes but had a much lighter, willowy build. This close, I realized she was younger than my mother which surprised me considering her children were all older. Like Mama, she had a flair for style and looked perfectly coiffed and dressed despite the four hour flight.
A faint smile curved Galina's bright red mouth. Vivian had warned me that customs were different between our two cultures. Unlike Mama, Sergei's mother wasn't going to call me honey and welcome me with a hug and sweet tea. The smile she cast my way wasn't much, but I figured it was a start, however shaky.
Radiating happiness, Sergei swept into the living room and gathered me close with a brawny arm. In a whirlwind of introductions, I was enveloped in a bear hug by Vladimir. He kissed both my cheeks and said something in rapid fire Russian that I couldn't understand. As if sensing my confusion, he said, "You're even prettier than Sergei described."
"Oh." I blushed. "Thank you."
He handed me one of the wrapped gifts. "I think you'll like these."
"I'm sure I will." The box wasn't very heavy, and it was the right size for chocolates or candy.
He stepped aside to greet Vivian with more reserve. She air-kissed his cheeks and spoke softly to him. He presented her with the other box, and she thanked him.
Sergei's mother stepped forward and tepidly embraced me. Galina gazed upon my face and smiled more warmly. "Yes. Very pretty."
"
Spasibo
."
Her expression softened, but she turned her attention to Vivian now. I didn't miss the way his mother seemed to practically beam as Vivian chatted her up. I envied the easy way they spoke but hoped that in time she might see me the same way. After everything Lidia and Ten had warned me about, meeting his mother hadn't been nearly as awkward or upsetting as I had expected.
The room service order I had arranged arrived not long after Sergei and his family. We all sat down in the dining area of the suite and enjoyed a nice dinner. Vivian and I sat on either side of Galina, and Vivi jumped in to translate whenever necessary.
"Your dress shop is busy?" Galina pushed her spoon through the creamy custard flecked with bits of saffron. Considering we both worked in the same field, me a designer and her a seamstress, I wasn't surprised she asked after something we could both understand. Hopefully we might even bond over it.
"Yes, ma'am. We have a minimum of four bridal consultants on the floor every day. They take six to eight appointments each. We sold just over six thousand dresses last year."
"Six thousand!" Sergei's mother seemed stunned. "So many?"
"Bianca's shop is one of the best in Texas," Vivian interjected. "Her mother built the business, and Bianca took over when she had a stroke."
"Your mother is better now?"
I nodded. "Yes. She's doing very well."
"This is good."
"You know," Vivian added deftly, "Bianca designed my wedding dress. She also designed Erin's. You'll meet her tomorrow. She's Ivan's wife." Vivian retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and started to swipe through photos. "See? This is Erin's wedding to Ivan. She was a beautiful bride, wasn’t she?"
"Very," Galina agreed.
Vivian smiled. "The dress was perfect, all lace and fluttery and feminine."
Galina turned to me. "You went to school for this?"
"I did. In New York."
"I like this…" Galina seemed to be thinking of a word she couldn't find. She spoke a phrase to Vivian who promptly answered, "Silhouette."
"Yes, I like this silhouette." She took the phone from Vivian and held it closer for me to inspect. "Do you design many like this?"
"Maybe a third of my designs are sheaths. They look good on everyone, and they're lighter and more comfortable for those hot summer weddings in Texas. I'm doing more mermaids this year." I made the shape of the skirt with my hands. "They're very popular, especially with beading and lace."
Galina made an agreeing sound. "Yes, but difficult for girls with hips." She drew a heavy hourglass in the air. I didn't miss the way her gaze drifted to my own thick waist and bottom. "Pleats and tucking, this helps."
"Oh, I have quite a bit of experience with hiding curves behind ruching," I said with a laugh. "I mastered that trick in high school."
She smiled at me before glancing back at the phone. Vivian had taken it back and had pulled up photos from her own wedding. Galina studied them. She murmured sweetly to Vivian, no doubt praising her beauty. Eventually, she turned to me with a genuine expression and complimented my work. "You are very talented, Bianca."
Across the table, Sergei winked at me. We shared a tender, private smile. It filled me with hope. She might learn to like me yet.
Dinner ended on a happy note, and I walked downstairs to the lobby to see Vivian into the private car Yuri sent round for her. The journey back to our suite took longer than I had expected. The elevators were packed and busy, but I was in no hurry so I let others cram into the cars and waited. After eating a heavy meal, my stomach wasn't feeling very good, and I worried that the heat and swirling scents of other people would upset my belly. It was safer for everyone if I held back until the crowd thinned.
Eventually, I stepped into a car and hit the button for my floor. The ride was quick. When I reached the door of our suite, I heard the raised voices. With my card poised at the lock, I held my breath and listened carefully. I couldn't understand a word that was spoken, but I easily picked out Sergei's voice and his mother's. They were arguing about something.
About me.
It had to be me. There was no other reason for it.
Backing away from the door, I took three steps, whirled around—and slammed into Ivan's chest. Ice cubes rattled in the container he held and spilled onto the carpet beneath our feet.
"Hey!" he said softly and steadied me with one big hand. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" He kicked aside the ice cubes so I wouldn't trip over them. "You knocked into me pretty hard." His gaze dropped to my stomach.
Did he know about the baby?
"I really am okay."
Behind me, the irritated voices grew louder. Ivan's expression turned dark. He put a hand at the small of my back and urged me forward. "Come. I'm sure Erin would like some company while she watches that fashion reality show she loves so much."
Not at all surprised by his kindness or his urge to protect and shield me, I let him lead me away from the scene in the suite that I simply couldn’t stomach to hear.
And yet…
I had to know.
"Ivan?"
He glanced down at me. "Don’t ask, sweetheart."
"I am asking. I want to know."
He didn't answer until we had passed two more doors. "It's not you, Bianca. It's old ideas. She likes you."
"But?"
"But she doesn’t want him to marry you." He hesitated again, and I could hear his teeth grinding together. "It would be embarrassing for her to explain to their friends."
The air rushed from my lungs. Pain clutched at my heart.
Ivan's hand slipped from the small of my back to me hip. He gave it a gentle, friendly squeeze. "Don't let this upset you. Not now. Not when…" He looked at my stomach again. "It doesn't matter to Sergei. You understand? He loves you. This is all that matters now."
"I know he loves me, but I also know that family means so much to him. How do I ask him to choose between us?"