Natasha sat curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of herbal tea but fantasizing that it was a cup of Kathleen’s strong coffee. The sash of her robe was tied haphazardly, she had a bad case of spiky bedhead, and not a trace of makeup.
“Still think your father and I shouldn’t have hired nannies?” Kathleen peeked around the door, an indulgent smile curving her lips.
“Oh, Mom, thank God you’re here! I know it’s only been a week, but this is killing me. As soon as I get one to go down for a nap, the other one starts crying.”
“And then she starts crying.” Nikita yawned, stretching his arms high above his head as he walked in and joined her on the sofa, looking every bit as exhausted as she did.
Natasha swatted his arm indignantly, then shrugged. “They’re called hormones, people. It’s temporary. I’m sure I’ll be a badass again in no time.”
“No worries, baby, but there’s no way those nannies are going anywhere. I will throw myself in front of their car if they ever try to leave,” he declared.
“I second that motion.” Natasha lifted her teacup in Nikita’s direction before tossing back the last of the brew.
He ran his hands through his hair haphazardly, leaving it messier than when he started. “Who am I kidding? I’d probably just fall asleep.”
“Oh, Mom, I’d give anything for a cup of your coffee,” Natasha groaned.
“You know you can’t have coffee while you’re breastfeeding,” Kathleen reminded her gently. “Trust me, those babies would never sleep then.”
“Oh, I know, but I can dream, can’t I?” Natasha looked over at Nikita, who had sworn off coffee as well in a show of support. “Nik, you remember her coffee, don’t you? Dark and rich and so strong…”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “So strong. I swear, just one sip and you could see into the future.”
“Yeah,” Natasha sighed longingly. “The future.”
“Oh, dear,” Kathleen sighed, her eyes full of sympathy as she approached the sofa carrying two small boxes, one tied with blue ribbon and the other with pink. She leaned down and kissed the top of Natasha’s head before perching on the edge of the coffee table in front of the sleepy couple. “I know this is harder than anything you’ve ever done, and in this family, that’s saying a lot. Maybe this will help remind you that you have so much to look forward to.” She handed the box with a blue ribbon to Nikita and the one with a pink ribbon to Natasha.
Natasha squinted as she set her teacup down on the end table, and gently opened the box. When she saw the contents, she gasped. Inside was a china figurine of a little girl in Russian folk wear, encrusted with pink diamonds. It was inscribed with ‘Sasha Vladimira Glazov’ and ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ in Russian: ‘Первый рождественский подарок’.
Nikita’s was similar but contained a little boy figurine with blue diamonds and his son’s name ‘Alexander Nikita Glazov III’ and ‘Baby’s First Christmas’, also in Russian: ‘Первый рождественский подарок’.
Tears filled the new parents’ eyes as they took turns hugging Kathleen. “They’re beautiful, Mom.”
Kathleen held her son by his shoulders and looked him in the eye reassuringly. “I know you’re both exhausted, but I promise you it will get better. Along the way, family traditions are so important. They will give your children stability and, during trying times, they can solidify a marriage and remind you of what’s truly important.”
“We’ll remember, Mom. Thank you.” Nikita kissed his mother’s cheek.
“Where are my grandchildren?” The gruff question came from the doorway.
“Sleeping, finally! Shhh!” Kathleen said to her husband with mock sternness.
“I see,” he said, his deep voice softer now. “Well, then a hug from the woman who made me a grandfather will do.” Kathleen’s eyes widened as Glazov opened his arms to Natasha, who rushed across the room to hug her father-in-law. He leaned down and spoke softly in her ear as he held her close and lightly rubbed her back. Natasha lifted her head and looked up at him with shining eyes and nodded before stepping away and returning to the sofa to snuggle up to her husband. “Your mother’s right,” Glazov said with a warm glance at his wife. “Family traditions are important.”
“Speaking of traditions, the Christmas decorations are coming along beautifully, Mom.” Natasha marveled at how festive and elegant the house looked every Christmas. She had always been included in the Glazov Christmas celebrations as she grew up, but being an ‘official’ member of the family now made everything feel different.
Glazov strolled over to Kathleen and leaned down, clasped her jaw and kissed her warmly on the lips. The two exchanged an intimate glance before he stepped away and headed back out to the hall. As he passed by, he squeezed Nikita’s shoulder, then stopped to look back at his wife. “Ptichka, just make sure you wait on the main tree in the ballroom until Christmas Eve so we can all decorate it together – the babies, too.”
At the mention of Christmas Eve, Kathleen’s eyes became clouded and her smile seemed stiff. Natasha and Nikita exchanged concerned looks, unable to answer the question they knew was burning in her mind. How can we celebrate if Kodiak and Logan aren’t here?
Kolya pulled the hoodie down low over his head to obscure his features. He hadn’t planned on coming back here at first because he needed to maintain a low profile. But he needed information, so he was going right to the source.
As Sambro walked to his car after closing, he didn’t notice anyone in the back alley until he was slammed against the side of the building. The impact rattled his head hard enough to make him see stars. “Shit!” he groaned. “Dude! What the fuck?!”
“Helena’s address. Now.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m her brother,” Kolya lied. He took a chance that her story followed the typical outline of the women at the club. “I don’t fucking appreciate you lying to her. She paid up front to get here and then the amount keeps getting bigger and bigger. She never agreed to that, motherfucker. I don’t appreciate you taking advantage of her because she’s a woman.”
Kolya knew all too well how bringing illegals over worked; he had found out all about it before Glazov took him in. The experience was brutal for anyone, but for women it was worse. Men would deliberately get their wives and girlfriends pregnant because they knew they would be gang raped during the journey otherwise. If he could save this one woman who had made such an impact on him, it would put his conscience at ease. “Her days with you are over. Any money you think she owes you, well, it’s not happening. She doesn’t owe you shit. You probably want to sic your goons on me right about now, don’t you? Well, fuck you. I wouldn’t recommend it. You don’t want to piss me off, Sammy. I know way too much about you. The last woman you tried to bring to the U.S. died when she suffocated in a fucking suitcase. Miserable way to go. Maybe you’d enjoy spending a little time in a small space, huh, Sammy?”
The bar owner’s face was ashen. He had thought that dark secret was safe. Whoever this man was, he’d done his homework. Well, fuck that. Sambro wasn’t about to go to prison for her or any other bitch. If the big brute wanted Helena, he could have her. “She lives in that rundown boarding house over on West Market. Pink. You can’t miss it.”
Kolya knew the house. Like the man said, it couldn’t be missed. “Go near her again? I’ll kill you, and I’ll take my time doing it.” Even Kolya was surprised at his ruthless tone of voice. He was even more surprised to realize that he meant every word, too. There had never been another woman he would kill for. But, yeah, he’d kill for this one. Fuck.
What the fuck was going on in his head with this woman, this stranger? Despite their moment of unconventional intimacy the other night, he didn’t even know her, but the need to protect her was a primal force burning in his gut. The gentle giant in him was being pushed aside by a predator he never knew existed.
“You can have the bitch,” Sambro spat. “I don’t want her. Hell, she won’t turn tricks, won’t give me a fuckin’ taste, and she’ll barely dry hump the customers unless I threaten—” At Kolya’s angry expression he thought better of finishing that particular sentence. “Anyway, she’s of no use to me. Bitch is a fuckin’ prude.”
Hearing that she was modest pleased him, but the disrespect in the man’s voice made Kolya go off anyway. There was only one way to deal with men who disrespected women: brute force. He shook Sambro so hard that the man’s head slammed against the wall and bounced off before he slid down the wall like he had liquid legs. Spineless wimp.
As quickly as he had appeared, Kolya disappeared into the night. He had a date with destiny and he had no intention of missing it.
She was haunting his dreams. Hell, she had been in his dreams long before he ever saw her on that stage. He didn’t doubt that she was strong; she’d had to be to survive her journey and life afterwards. He’d been a fighter all his life. He needed a strong woman who needed him. He now knew why he’d been born: to save this woman from a life of misery and low expectations.
Society was such a fucking liar to a woman like her, judging her and calling her a whore when, in reality, she was a survivor, just like he was. He could respect that.