A few weeks later, when the shine of travel wore off, Cole took Anja home, and she’d never been happier to see the cow that hated her—cared for by Garoux’s men during their absence—and those damnable chickens, who showed more respect after Cole wandered into their coop as a bear.
Traveling was nice, but there was truly no place like home, especially since they had the place to themselves. Her nonna had elected to stay behind in Arkhangelsk for the moment in order to slap some sense into her grandfather. But given the number of times Anja called via video chat and caught her nonna looking disheveled, her grandfather usually close by and shirtless, more than talking was happening.
Shudder.
During the past few weeks, Anja had learned that her mother had been an only child, raised by a distant cousin who worked for the Tygrov family. It was how her parents met. So cliché, the maid and the lord’s son. And it seemed Nonna truly was right to fear for Anja’s life because the woman who should have married her father went on to marry another after his death and then proceeded to kill all his brothers and their children, that her husband might inherit. It seemed Cole knew all about her father’s old betrothed, given he was hired to kill the woman.
Anja called him an avenging hero. He’d spanked her in reply. She spanked him back, and a good time was had by all.
Speaking of a good time, she knew someone who liked to wake up frisky. She pressed closer to her husband, loving the feel of their naked limbs entwined, the moment delightfully languorous. Decadent, she might even say.
“I have a meeting later today with the dog next door to discuss his needs,” he murmured.
Anja tickled fingers across Cole’s bare chest. “Are you sure you wish to work for that man?” That man being Fabian Garoux, not a bad sort as it turned out, but she wasn’t about to relinquish the feud so easily.
“Working for him means coming home to you every night, which is a big bonus.”
“Won’t you get bored?”
“I was getting bored in my old job, so I’m open to try something new. If I don’t like it, or he looks at me funny, I can always kill him.” Cole grinned as he lobbed his most oft-used solution to every problem.
“You can’t kill everything,” she noted as she rolled herself atop him. “Some annoying things must be tolerated.”
“Annoying things should die.”
“If you harm our baby because it cries and wakes you, then I will have to eviscerate you,” she whispered against his lips. “Slowly and painfully.”
“What did you just say?”
“I am going to kill you.”
“Before that?”
“Oh, the baby. The one I’m carrying.” Because, as soon as she’d missed her period, she’d peed on a stick to be sure. “The next Tygrov princess. Your daughter.”
Before she could blink, Cole dumped her on the mattress and bolted from the bed to snare his pants, hopping into them on his way to the door.
Surprised at his reaction, she sat up, hair a tousled mess around her bare shoulders. “Are you abandoning me, you coward? I shall hunt you down like a dog and skin you,” she yelled.
He whirled, his craggy features set in shock. “Leave you? Never. I go to make ready. We only have months to prepare. Mere months to protect the biggest treasure this sinner has ever coveted. I can’t believe you’re bearing my child.” He shook his head before ducking out into the hall.
“More like bearing sin.” She rolled the word sin around her tongue. “Sinthea. A worthy name for a princess.”
“You should call the baby lazy, like her mother,” her babushka yelled before stomping into the room. “Lying abed at this hour.”
“It’s not even seven A.M.”
“Lazy wench. Shirking her duties. Thinking she’s a princess.”
“I am a princess. Remember? And what are you doing here? I thought I left you in Russia.”
“Saucy wench. As if I would abandon my lapushka during her time of need.”
“I don’t need you, old woman,” she said with a soft smile. She didn’t question how her beloved babulya knew she was with child. Some things her grandmother just knew.
Her babushka sniffed. “Ha. Impertinent chit thinks she’s better than her grandmother. I am the grand tsarina once again of the Tygrov clan. And yet I shall lower myself to making you breakfast since you are obviously incapable and the baby is hungry. The things I must do for a lazy, ungrateful brat.”
Which translated from Russian meant: I love you.
* * *
Meanwhile, a few states away, a certain Greek bear was minding his own business when the letter arrived in the mail, mail as in an envelope with a stamp and an address, his address, handwritten in block letters. Strange, but the oddity paled compared to the card inside.
On the front, a blue background with a stork carrying a swaddled child in its beak.
Inside
…
Congrats, Asshole.
It’s a boy.
The woman you never called back