16. Andrey

16

ANDREY

"Why the hell am I here again?" Natalia demands as soon as I open the door.

"Good morning to you, too."

She squints at me. "Seriously, Andrey—I was barely conscious before Shura was banging on my door, telling me I was ‘wanted' at the manor."

"Because you are. Follow me."

I stride off, forcing her to hurry after me. We pass through the foyer and into the living room. French doors open directly to the garden. I ignore the zig-zagging stone path in favor of cutting across the freshly mowed lawn towards the pool house.

Natalia huffs along behind me, struggling to keep up. Somehow, she finds enough air to mutter under her breath all the way there.

"… ‘wanted at the manor'… like a dog… honestly, how do I get myself into… male version of Kat … "

The pool house is surrounded on three sides by sycamore trees whose leaves have just begun to change color. The house is red stone, elegant and cleverly designed to blend seamlessly into the landscape.

Natalia gasps when it comes into view. I watch her take it all in. As soon as she catches me looking at her, though, she schools her face back into the same surly frown she's been wearing since Shura deposited her on the doorstep bright and early. "Why am I here?"

By way of answer, I lead her into the pool house.

The exterior is understated, but the interior doesn't have any problem reminding you how flawless it is. It's like a secret garden—bristling with plants, beams of golden light pouring through countless windows and skylights. Wooden beams run across the ceiling and ornate carvings dance along the crown molding. Forest green tile adds a splash of color in the kitchen. She hasn't seen the bedroom yet, but I have no doubt she'll have to suppress another gasp when she sets foot in there.

"Okay, it's official," she mumbles. "You win; I lose. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No—"

"Even your pool house is leaps and bounds above my—what did you call it—‘shit hole in the wall'? Rat's nest? Some other equally insulting phrase?" She sags. "You win this HGTV contest I never asked to be in. So, y'know, congrats or whatever."

I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the closest wall. "Are you done?"

She bites her lip and considers it. "Yes. For now."

"Good." I nod. "You'll be moving in here for the time being."

Her mouth drops open. "You said I could stay in my own apartment!"

"That was before I realized it was a breeding ground for disease and Netflix murder documentaries."

"I told you I would get my landlord to take care of the mold!"

As entertaining as she is when she's teasing me, she's equally delightful when she's rattled and ready for a fight. I can't decide which riled-up version of Natalia I like best.

"I did some digging and it turns out your so-called ‘landlord' is a liar and a thief. He's had complaints from every single tenant this past quarter alone and he's seen to exactly none of them."

"How did you…?"

"Mold is not a small problem, Natalia. Do you think I'd let my child breathe poison for the first years of its life?"

Her jaw snaps shut and I know I've landed the winning blow. She spins in a slow circle, taking in the pool house with fresh eyes.

"Well, what about all my stuff?" she snaps at last.

"I'll have Leonty bring everything over today. It shouldn't take more than one trip. You're not exactly flush with belongings."

"How long do I have to stay?"

She asks like I'm trapping her in a four-by-two cage with no windows. "That remains to be seen. For now, this is the best place for you."

She mutters unintelligibly under her breath. Uncrossing my arms, I advance on her.

"I'm giving you the pool house because you said you wanted your own space. You'll have your privacy and freedom of the grounds. The only place I'm requesting you stay clear of is the east wing."

"What's in the east?—"

"It doesn't concern you."

She sighs. "How very ‘ Beauty and the Beast ' of you."

"What?"

"You know, Beauty and the Beast? Beast tells Belle to stay away from the—" She cuts off mid-sentence when she sees the blank look in my eye. "Never mind. That's an uphill battle I will never win."

I clear my throat. "You'll also find that the commute to work is much easier from here."

"You're letting me go to work?"

"Like I said, I'm not interested in dismantling your whole life. I just want to make sure you and this baby are comfortable. Safe and comfortable."

Her face softens. "Okay. Right. Thank you." She says it like she's not sure she should be thanking me at all.

I'm not sure she should, either. Because as much as I like her teasing and as much as I like her feisty…

I think I like her submissive and grateful best of all.

Before I do something I regret in the quiet, sun-drenched privacy of the pool house, I leave her to her new home and saunter out into the garden.

Shura is pacing on the upper deck, talking to someone on the phone. He wraps up the call when I approach. "Vaska woke up this morning," he informs me.

"Excellent. He'll make a full recovery?"

"He needs a few weeks and then he'll be good as new," he answers. "Just another scar for the collection."

I nod with satisfaction. Fuck you, Nikolai.

"How'd it go last night?" I ask.

Shura's restless eyes slip over to the pool house. "You know I'm not a big talker."

"I'm aware."

"She is, though." I suppress a smile, but to my surprise, Shura continues. "It takes a lot for me to like a woman," he admits, shuffling in place like he wants to sprint away from this conversation. "A civilian woman, no less. But I do like her. She's nice."

"High praise, coming from you."

He clears his throat uncomfortably and changes the subject. "She agreed to stay in the pool house?"

"I didn't give her much choice."

"I'm sure she loved that. Do you have a plan?"

I spent most of last night ruminating on precisely that. I went around in circles until I fell into a distracted sleep. When I woke this morning, though, I was no closer to figuring anything out.

"Not yet."

Shura jaw twitches, a telltale sign that he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should.

"Go on. Spit it out before you choke on it."

"Marrying her would make quite the statement."

The exact same thought passed through my head last night. "It would also make my child legitimate." I lean against one of the huge marble plinths that ring the garden. "But I'm not a fan of the timing. Nikolai's still a real threat and he seems to be getting bolder?—"

"A mark of desperation."

"Perhaps," I concede. "But it just means he has nothing to lose." My gaze veers to the pool house. "That's no longer the case for me. Touting around a pregnant bride would only goad him."

"A marriage would help you shore up some power, though," Shura points out.

"Not if I married Natalia. The little lastochka will make a pretty bride, not a powerful one."

"I wasn't necessarily suggesting Natalia. Unless of course…" He clears his throat again. "… you want to marry Natalia."

I wave away the whole messy subject, as if my heart isn't in my throat at the mere suggestion. "It's immaterial. Political motives or not, I have no interest in marriage right now. I have only two priorities: stabilizing the Kuznetsov expansion—which includes getting rid of Nikolai—and making sure my child arrives safely."

A window opens in the pool house. I catch a glimpse of Natalia as she opens the blinds.

"Which means keeping an eye on his mother," I add in a weary murmur.

"Extra security?"

"When she leaves the manor, definitely. I want a four-man team put together. Their sole responsibility is going to be all things Natalia Boone."

Shura nods. "I'm on it."

"But ask the boys to be subtle. We'll get pushback if she feels stifled."

"I have a suggestion," Shura proposes, glancing towards the pool house. "What if we got her a guard dog? It would serve a dual purpose."

Sunlight streams through the tree branches. I have to squint to get a clear view of the pool house, but Natalia has disappeared from the open window.

"‘Dual purpose'?"

"Well… I think it might help her to have a companion," he admits. "I just got the feeling last night that her life is… lonely. Empty. Babies grow best when their mothers are happy."

It's sentimental advice coming from Shura. Perhaps that's why he's having trouble meeting my eye.

"Thank you, brother," I clap him on the back. "I'll think on it."

He retreats into the house, but I stay on the patio, facing the pool house. A guard dog isn't a bad idea—especially since we already have a half-rabid stray trapped in one of the guest rooms downstairs. I glance over my shoulder, towards the east wing where Misha is being held.

Perhaps, if I gave the boy some trust, he'd offer me some of his in return. Although, exposing him to Natalia feels like a big risk.

I table the decision for another time. For now, I'm content that she's under my roof.

Right where she belongs.