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“I know.” He grabs my left hand and tugs on my ring finger. “But I want to marry you again. For real.”
“Are you serious?”
His eyes flutter closed, his long, dark eyelashes making him look more beautiful than any man has a right to, and he nods, a big smile spread across his face. “Will you?”
“Marry you?” I ask, leaning forward to rest my chin on his chest.
He nods again, and I lay my cheek against his rib cage, listening to the thrum of his heart.
“Of course, I will, Luka Volkov.” I twine my fingers through his and close my eyes. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
29
Luka
Despite being days away from giving birth, Eve insisted on making dinner. I stood nervously in the corner of the kitchen, jumping forward every time she so much as banged two pots together.
“Would you stop being such a mother hen?” she finally said, shooing me out of the kitchen.
I listened intently from the dining room while she finished cooking, but refused to let her carry our plates into the dining room. She thinks I worry about her too much, but I don’t think she lets me worry about her nearly enough. If she let me, I’d carry her from room to room. I’d do anything to make sure she and our baby girl stay safe and healthy.
That desire is why we moved out of the Volkov mansion. It was nice, but auspicious. Now that my father has stepped down, and I’m the boss of the Volkov family, I don’t want to give our enemies any reason to hate me more. And no one likes seeing their rival living in a mansion. So, we have a modest two-story house with a metal fence and top of the line security system.
Though, when it comes to enemies, we are thankfully lacking these days. After I shot and killed Eve’s father, the Furinos hung around for a few more months before disbanding. None of them were particularly loyal to Benedetto, anyway, and once the money stopped flowing, they got out. Same with the Irish. I never returned the guns I stole, and the financial hit pretty much wiped them out. They have all either left town or are lying low, and I’ve made it more than apparent that if any of them so much as look in the direction of my family, I’ll kill them on sight.
“How big do you think I am?” Eve asks, pointing to the giant serving of lasagna I scooped out for her.
“Too much?”
She laughs. “Actually, I think I’d just like to eat straight from the pan, please.”
I scoop half of the lasagna from her plate back into the casserole dish. “That can be arranged.”
The meal is incredible, and I moan through most of it, eyes closed.
“Are you enjoying it?” she teases. “I can’t tell.”
“Oh, God. It is amazing. I don’t think I ever actually ate food before you came along. Nothing used to ever taste this good.”
She smiles, pleased, but tries to hide it. “That’s because you had an untrained cook who overcooked pasta. I’m just the first person you let into your kitchen who knew what they were doing.”
“Fitting that this is our first meal in the new house,” I say, remembering our first meal in the mansion together.
She pushes her long brown hair over her shoulder and shakes her head. “That feels like it was a thousand years ago.”
“A lot has happened since then,” I say, reaching across the table to grab her hand. She smiles at her, her caramel eyes melting into mine as I circling my thumb around her knuckles.
My heart flutters in my chest, and I use my other hand to push my plate away. “Suddenly, I’m not very hungry.”
She laughs and throws her head back, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “I’m nine months pregnant, Luka.”
I stand up and wag my eyebrows, walking around the table towards her. “And looking ravishing, might I add?”
She groans, but can’t seem to wipe the smile from her face. “I’m a beached whale.”
“A beautiful, alluring beached whale,” I say, hooking one arm under her knees and the other around her back. Even with the thirty extra pounds of baby weight, she is a breeze to lift.
She lets her eyes flutter closed and places a hand to her heart. “How is a girl supposed to resist that kind of sweet talk?”
