balcony. “Mommy! Can we make a snowman?”
The mere thought of going back into that cold makes me shudder.
“Not now, Malysh.” Adrian smiles at him. “There’s a storm coming tonight.”
“Then tomorrow?” Jer asks hopefully.
“Yes.”
“And you’ll join us, Papa?”
“I will.”
“Yay!” He jumps up and down, then runs straight to Adrian’s leg.
Kolya and Boris bring our bags inside and nod as they’re about to leave.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“The other cottage, Mrs. Volkov,” Kolya says.
“To stand guard,” Boris elaborates.
“Hell no! You’re not standing guard in this freezing cold.”
Adrian glares down at me and I glare right back. “What? Surely you’re not making them go outside when there’s a storm coming. They’ll freeze to death.”
“They will not,” he says with slight exasperation.
“Of course they will. Have you seen all the snow?”
“I have and so did they. We’re Russians, and we can handle the cold.”
“No.”
“No?” he repeats with clear skepticism, as if he doesn’t believe I just told him no in front of his men.
“Yes, no. This is supposed to be a vacation, not a way to test their endurance in the cold. Who would even reach us here?”
“You would be surprised,” Adrian says and nods at his guards, who nod back and leave.
“Come back for dinner,” I call after them. “Bring Yan and the others, too.”
They don’t show any sign of hearing me and continue on their way. As soon as the door closes behind them, Adrian towers over me, his face a mask of coldness that mirrors the outside. He speaks low enough that Jeremy—who’s preoccupied with running his toy soldier across the windowsill—doesn’t hear. “Don’t ever, and I mean ever, defy me in front of my men again unless you’re in the mood to be punished in their presence.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I shoot back in the same tone. “But I’ll not stand by as you torture them.”
“Feeling too attached to them, Lia?”
“Of course I do. I’ve known those men for six years, Adrian, and despite them being an extension of you, I’ve gotten used to them and I don’t wish any of them harm.”
“Careful, Lenochka,” he grinds out. “You’re tempting me to get rid of them.”
“You’re impossible, did you know that?”
“Not impossible, no. I’m merely possessive and have no control when it comes to you. I don’t like it when you speak of any other man.”
“How…am I even supposed to reply to that?”
“You’re not. Just don’t put any man before me.”
“I can’t just stop talking to or about other men.”
“Yes, you can.” He pauses. “Within reason.”
“You don’t even know the right definition of reason, Mr. Volkov.”
His lips twitch a little. “I can conjure it. Under the right circumstances.”
The sight of his smile always gets me in a better mood, no matter the subject, and I find myself mirroring it even as I shake my head.
“Mommy!” Jeremy tugs on my coat. “Did you bring my war zone?”
“I did.”
“Let’s build it!”
I groan and Adrian’s smile widens.
“Seems that your mother still hasn’t learned how to assemble your war zone, Malysh.”
“Hey, that’s not true!” I poke him. “Not everyone is good at that stuff.”
“Malysh and I are.” He lifts a grinning Jeremy in his arms. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Papa!”
He taps our son’s nose and he giggles. “Should we teach your mommy?”
“I don’t think she’ll ever learn, Papa.”
“Jer! You little traitor.”
He gives me a coy smile. “It’s okay, Mommy. You tell stories better than Papa.”
I place a hand at my hip. “I do a lot of things better than your papa.”
“Really?” Adrian’s voice drips with rare amusement. “Like what?”
“Like bathing Jer.”
“Papa does it well, too.”
“But I’m better.”
“No, Mommy. You’re the same.”
“I gave birth to you, Jer. Your papa didn’t.” I smirk at Adrian. Beat that, mister.
“But you did it together.” Jeremy frowns. “That’s why I have Mommy and Papa.”
“He just did something easy and I’m the one who was pregnant with you for nine months, then gave birth to you.”
“Something easy?” Adrian drawls.
“Shut up,” I whisper-hiss.
Jeremy stares between us, eyes widening like whenever he figures out something. “If it’s easy, do it again and give me a baby sister.”
“It’s not that easy,” I blurt.
“But you just said it is, Mommy. Can’t you do it again? I want a baby sister.” He pulls on Adrian’s coat. “Papa, please?”
“We’ll see, Malysh.”
“Yay!”
“We will?” I murmur.
“Why?” Adrian asks. “You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just…I never thought about it.” Well, that’s a lie. I have and I’ve often wondered why he’s never insisted on having another child or why he didn’t comment