I smile and kiss her gently. “You have seven months and three weeks left, and you have not even began to see overbearing yet, Presh.”
I lead her over to my desk by the hand, drop into my chair and pull her down onto my lap. I inhale her scent deeply and smile. All in the world seems perfect again. We kiss, gently at first and then deeper and I feel my arousal start to rise. Every time, every damn time I think I can’t feel closer to this beautiful woman, something happens to intensify our intimacy, taking it to another level.
I beam.
“What?” She smirks.
“I told you my boys were good swimmers.”
She giggles. “You are such a confident bastard.”
The door opens and Adrian walks in without noticing me. He stops mid-step when he sees me. “N-natasha,” he stammers.
“Hi, baby.” She smiles.
She stands to kiss him and he grabs her in an embrace, squeezing her. He stands back and holds her at arms length and smiles a swoony smile. He squeezes her again. “Oh, you look so beautiful today,” he gushes.
She looks over at me, her face serious. “You told him.”
“Way to go, Murph,” I hiss.
He screws up his face. “But I’m so excited. I promise I won’t tell anyone,” he stammers.
“Did you tell Cameron, too?”
“Maybe.” I wince.
She smirks. “It’s ok. I told Didge, Mum and Abbie, too. I couldn’t hold it in.”
Adrian sighs with relief and bends to kiss her stomach. “Hello, in there, it’s your favourite uncle. The good looking one.” He hangs off her hips with a huge smile on his face.
I smirk and Natasha rolls her eyes. “This is going to be a long eight months.” She sighs as she puts her hand on his head.
Natasha
I sit in the car as the scenery flashes by, my heart is beating through my chest. I reach over and grab Nicholas’ hand and he squeezes it back in a reassuring gesture. I’m twelve weeks pregnant and about to do something that I know is going to cause Armageddon. Nicholas and I are going to the prison, four hours south of L. A. to visit the young boy who kept me alive when I was held hostage. I have too many questions, too many unanswered things that I need to tie up. I lost twenty-four hours of my life and I can’t let it go no matter how hard I try. I need closure. I need to know what happened to me. Nicholas has been giving me phone therapy sessions from London, and he and I both think that this will give me some sort of closure. He has flown home from London for three days to come with me. Joshua doesn’t know I’m going and I have lied to the guards, telling them we are picking up a stroller from a shop. There is one car in front of us and one behind. I’m more guarded than the fucking Queen these days. Max is driving and I know he is onto something. He keeps looking at me and raising an eyebrow in question. He knows I wouldn’t drive four hours to buy a stroller with Nicholas in tow. I don’t want to do this when I have a baby at home, and I don’t want to go there when I’m noticeably pregnant, either. He could be transferred to another prison or given parole and I will never get my much-needed answers. I need to get this over with now so I can deal with it before the baby comes. Max is driving, so I can’t even discuss with Nicholas what I am going to say. We are sitting here, both pretending that we are on a shopping trip. This Russian spy thing we have going on is only adding to my nerves.
“What is the address?” Max asks for the second time.
Nicholas’ eyes meet mine. I can’t tell him the address until we are nearly there. If he works out where we are going, he will ring Joshua. Shit, this is messed up.
“I have the address in my bag, just head into town and I will find it,” I reply nervously.
“Ok.” His eyes flash at me in the rear view mirror. He calls the car in front of us. “Get off at the next exit.”
“Gotcha,” the voice replies.