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I laugh softly, treacherous tears streaking down my cheeks. I don't bother to brush them away. Leo does it for me, stroking the pads of his thumbs beneath my eyes. “It's not a big deal.”
“It is to me. I said I would be there.”
“I'm just happy you're—” My throat closes up, a terrible burn in my lungs. I can't stop myself from crying this time. “I was so scared for you, Leo. I thought I was going to lose you. When Charlotte and Sandra told me you've been shot, I...” My heart rails in my chest. “I thought you were going to die.”
“It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me.”
“You don't understand. I thought you were going to die before I ever got the chance to tell you…” My voice quivers, wobbles. “I love you, Leo. I love you.”
He regards me with the same soft adoration he always does. It's a look, I realize, reserved only for me. It makes me feel special. Like I'm the one exception he treasures above all else.
“Nikita Belova, I love you too. Now and always.”
I'm smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I'm so elated I feel like I could fly to the moon. Instead, I settle for leaning in and pressing my lips to his as gingerly as I can handle. I'm mindful of his recovering wounds, but Leo doesn't seem to care. He reaches out and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his chest where he holds me tight. He kisses me hungrily, our lips slotting into place—a perfect fit.
We bask in each other's warmth and the safety of each other's arms. I never understood what people meant when they said heaven on Earth, but when I'm with Leo, I understand completely.
When he pulls away, he asks, “What's this about naming someone Roman? I wasn't sure if I heard right.”
“It's my Christmas gift to you.” I reached for his hand and slip it between our bodies, pressing his palm against my belly. “I found out a few weeks ago, but you were still asleep.”
It's amusing getting to watch his mind work. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head, connecting the dots one by one until his eyes finally widen with realization.
“You're pregnant?” he murmurs.
“I know it's probably a lot to spring on you, but—”
“No, this is…” He pauses for a second. “How far along are you? Like… The math…”
I can’t help but giggle. “Remember that night you plucked me off the side of the road in the middle of a snowstorm and took me to your cabin and I begged you not to be some kind of homicidal maniac?”
“Oh, wow. That far along.”
Miracle of miracles, Leo smiles so wide and bright I feel like the whole world has stopped. It's a true smile, one of pure joy and happiness, along with a healthy dose of pride. I have never seen anything more brilliant. His elation is contagious, stirring inside me with such overwhelming power I can't help but smile too.
“I'm going to be a father,” he says to himself in disbelief. He laughs, the sound rich and sweet. “I love you, Nikita. Like you could never imagine.”
“I love you, too, Leo.”
And then, very seriously, he says, “There's no fucking way we're naming our kid after Roman.”
I throw my head back and laugh. This is the best Christmas ever.
Chapter 33
Leo
It's safe to say my stint at the hospital has thrown a wrench in my family's holiday plans. I almost feel a little guilty that they have to rearrange things, no matter how many times they tell me they're happy to do it. We end up celebrating Christmas roughly a week after I wake up and I'm finally discharged, gathering together at Andrei and Sandra's home.
It's a boisterous affair, plenty of music and tipsy conversations over eggnog by the fire. Their Christmas tree is still up, so big even Samuil looks small when standing right next to it, the top of it scraping the ceiling above. It's decked out in all sorts of fancy ornaments as well as string lights and silver tinsel. The air smells heavily of peppermint and gingerbread, along with the crackling logs of the fireplace.
Everyone's here, gathered together in celebration. Nieces and nephews, cousins, and even my sister-in-law's extended family. Her own parents, her uncles, and their wives as well. The Antonov and the Nicolaevich families together under one roof, united as one. There's discussion of business, but Sandra insists on keeping it to a minimum. I suppose even organized crime needs to take a break every now and then to smell the roses.
I've been given some space on the couch to rest and recuperate. I'll admit the medication the doctors gave me to deal with the pain makes me feel a little loopy. Even still, I have never been surer about what I'm about to do next in my entire life. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I run my fingers over the edges of the ring box, my heart thudding with quiet anticipation.
The kids open gifts, ripping into boxes and pulling apart ribbon with their eager little hands. Nikita sits beside me, watching with a smile on her lips as she watches the little ones with a glint in her eye. She's going to make a fantastic mother; of that I have no doubt.
“What are you thinking about?” I murmur against her ear.
