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Good. At least he’s finally as anxious about this as I am.
The time ticks by so slowly that I swear sixty seconds take five minutes to pass. I glance at the test before it’s finished, but what I see makes my heart skip a beat. Two lines. That means it’s already showing positive, right?
I jump up from the toilet, grabbing it from the sink and holding it so close to my face that I can smell myself on it.
Two lines. There’s no doubt about it.
I’m pregnant!
I let out an excited shriek, unable to hold in my excitement. My free hand fumbles with the lock, but I have to pause and take a breath before I can get it open.
“What is it? What does it say?” Pasha blurts the moment I open the door. His face is red, and the veins in his neck are popping out like he’s been running.
I stifle a laugh. “Um, it’s positive.”
“Positive for what?” he asks, leering at the test in my hand like he’s afraid to touch it.
This time, I can’t hold back a brief giggle. “Pasha, I’m pregnant. That’s what it says.”
He frowns, looking closer at the test as I hold it up for him. “That’s… just a couple of letter Ls. Could be capital I as well.”
“That’s ridiculous. Are you really unaware of how a pregnancy test is supposed to be read?”
He shakes his head. “I can read, Valerie. It’s just… lines.”
I try really hard not to laugh at the way he’s acting. I know he’s feeling a storm of emotions right now, one of them being frustration because he doesn’t understand the pregnancy test, but he doesn’t have to worry about it. I know what the two lines mean, and he needs to trust me on this.
“I’m pregnant. That’s all it means,” I say, wiggling the pregnancy test in front of him. “You’re going to be a father!”
He narrows his eyes at the test, and my stomach sinks. He doesn’t look excited anymore, and I’m in the dark as to why.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, pulling the test back and clutching it to my chest.
“I want to make sure,” he says, his voice soft and low. “I don’t trust tests.”
“You want me to go to the doctor or something?” I ask, confused by his sudden tonal shift.
“No need. I’m going to pump you full of my seed so many times that it’ll be impossible for younotto have my baby,” he says, grabbing the crotch of his pants and squeezing it.
“Probably not necessary, but I’m not going to say no to a good time,” I reply, tucking the pregnancy test into the little pocketin the front of my dress. “You want to start now or when we get back to the United States?”
The corner of his mouth twitches upward as he steps toward me. His large body casts a shadow over me, dropping the temperature by a solid ten degrees, but my skin only burns hotter. I know his answer without him having to say a word.
“I want you at the door in the smallest bikini you have in five minutes. Don’t be late,” he says, his eyes burning a hole through my head with their intensity.
“A bikini?” I ask, aroused but a little confused.
He nods, pulling a cigar from his back pocket and slipping it between his pearly teeth. “What else are you going to wear to the beach, darling?”
34
Pasha
One last afternoon on the coast of Italy. One last time to watch the waves roll onto the beach as Valerie dances on the edge of the water in the smallest bikini I’ve ever seen on a woman.
She was nervous to wear it outside of the house, but I own this beach. There’s not another living soul within ten miles of here. Even the airspace is closed off for me, just to ensure nobody will ever see what happens here between Valerie and me.
For now, though, we’re just relaxing, catching some rays before it’s time to go. We have an overnight flight booked for Texas, and we’ll be sleeping most of the way. That way, we can hit the ground running once we arrive in the city to fight our last battle.
