44. Natalia

44

NATALIA

The moment my eyes open, I'm looking for my babies. Does Grigory need a new diaper? Is Sarra hungry?

For a week now, they are all I've been able to think about. I've had dreams of rocking them to sleep and warming bottles.

"They're still asleep." Andrey's voice is a warm whisper against the back of my ear. His arms are banded around me, and my head is pillowed on his chest.

I follow his finger to the bassinet rocking next to our bed. Sure enough, two little swaddles are tucked inside, safe and peaceful.

"Then I should be asleep, too." I let my eyes fall closed.

"But I want to talk to you."

I angle my head back, and the second I see his full lips pulled into a smile and his icy gray eyes on me, I can't find it in me to be annoyed that my nap was interrupted. "I can't believe you woke a new mother up. That has to be a felony."

"It's not. Trust me. I'm familiar with most of the felonies."

I laugh, but he's not exactly kidding. I had children with a dangerous man. Though it's been easy to forget the last week—being a father has softened Andrey's edges in ways I never expected. If someone had told me a month ago that I'd get a front row seat to Andrey Kuznetsov learning nursery rhymes on YouTube, I would've told them they were crazy. But he's working so hard to be a good father to our babies.

"What was so important you had to wake me up?"

He holds a finger to his lips and tips his head towards the corner of the room. Before my eyes can focus in the shadowy corner, I hear the soft snoring.

"Again?" Slowly, I make out the shape of Misha curled into the cushy nursing chair.

"Mr. Nanny is always reporting for duty."

I swat Andrey's arm. "He's great with the kids. He got Sarra down for her nap today."

"Yeah, but we have an actual nanny. An expensive one."

"That was your choice. Everyone reasonably priced wasn't good enough for our babies," I remind him. Misha shifts in the chair, and I can't help but smile. "He wants to be involved. And I love the company."

"At this rate, we'll have to add another bed in here. A whole mansion, and we're all going to sleep in the same room."

"Did you just wake me up to grouch about sleeping arrangements?"

He slides a palm down my arm, twirling our fingers together. Slowly, he lifts my hand into the air. "I guess I didn't need to wake you up. I've just been carrying this ring around for a while now, and I wanted to make sure it would fit."

I stare at my raised hand for several long seconds before I can even begin to process the massive solitaire diamond glimmering on my ring finger.

"Andrey!" I screech.

He quiets me with his lips, pressing a kiss to my mouth while I continue to gape at my hand.

"Do you like it?" he whispers.

"Do I like— How did you even lift my hand?" I test my hand in the air, feeling the weight of the ring. "This thing is enormous. It's— Is it mine?"

"If you're asking if I put someone else's ring on your finger, the answer is no."

"But it must have cost a fortune."

"Far less than what you're worth." He brings my hand to his lips for a kiss. "I would have had it on your hand sooner, but I wanted the band engraved."

I turn my hand over to read the inscription etched into the fine platinum. Forever started with you.

The words blur behind a veil of tears that I can't control. "This is perfect. The ring. You. It all means so much to me."

" You mean so much to me."

My heart flutters. "I like this new Andrey. The Andrey who wears his heart on his sleeve and gets all sappy."

He smirks. "Now, I'm sappy?"

"In the best possible way."

Andrey smiles, taking it like the compliment I intended. He looks towards the bassinet where Sarra has a little arm nestled over her brother. "These children, this family… You all brought me back to life. And I will spend the rest of our lives trying to repay you for what you've given me."

"I don't need you to repay me for anything, Andrey. The only thing I need—the only thing I've ever needed—is you. Only you."

"Then that will be my vow to you. I'll always be there for you and our children. No matter what." He arches a brow. "If you'll have me, that is."

A shiver races down my spine. "I'd be honored to be your wife, Andrey Kuznetsov."

He kisses me long and hard, sealing our promise in a private moment that is all ours. When we break apart, I stare down at the ring on my finger like it might disappear.

Andrey pokes my side. "Your little sentinel is waking up."

Misha stirs in the chair. He's too long for it—I swear he's shot up a foot in the last six months—so as he stretches out his legs and arches his back, he fumbles off-center and the chair dumps him forward onto the floor.

As soon as he hits the ground, he jolts up, his hair mussed and his eyes puffy with sleep, looking around for the evil culprit who upended him.

I have to slap a hand over my mouth so I don't burst out laughing.

Misha blushes as he rubs the sleep from my eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He stands with a stretch and then walks over to the bassinet. "Are they almost ready for bottles?"

"Misha," Andrey says, gesturing for him to sit down, "you realize you're not their nanny, right?"

"I know. I just wanna be useful."

"You don't have to be useful," I tell him. "You're a teenager. Go outside, get in the pool, play some soccer. I feel like I'm holding you back."

Misha sinks down onto the edge of the bed. "You're not. I enjoy spending time with you and the twins."

"And we love having the company. I just don't want you missing out on anything because you think you have to be here with us."

Misha just shrugs. "We're family. Where else would I be?"

He says it so matter-of-factly, and I'm less than two minutes out from a marriage proposal, so there's not a chance of my eyes staying dry. I swipe at my cheeks, and Misha eyes the ring on my finger.

He whistles. "He finally gave it to you."

I look from Misha to Andrey and back again. "You knew?"

Misha shrugs. "I am a spy, remember?" He laughs and pulls me in for a hug. "Congrats, Nat. I'm happy for you."

"I hope you haven't already heard about the other exciting news," Andrey says.

Misha's searching gaze tells me he has no idea what Andrey is about to say.

"I haven't even discussed this with Natalia yet, but only because I knew she'd agree."

Misha stiffens, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down slowly. "Okay…?" He looks as nervous as I feel.

"When Natalia and I get married, she'll carry my name. And the twins were born with my name. So it seems only fair that you should have the same name, too."

"You… you want me to be a Kuznetsov?"

I hold my breath. My heart really can't take these big emotional reveals.

"You just said it yourself: we're family," Andrey says simply. "But it's your choice. Whether you want to take my name or not, it doesn't change how I feel. This would just be a formality."

"What kind of formality?"

"Legally," Andrey explains. "Since Natalia and I would adopt you."

Andrey was so right. I agree. I absolutely, undoubtedly agree.

I reach for Misha's hand, my chest hitching with emotion. "You already feel like mine, Misha. But like Andrey said, no pressure. It's up to you."

Misha's eyes are glassy. He looks down at the twins. "But you already have the perfect family. You have two brand new babies—a boy and a girl. What would you want with a fourteen-year-old whose dad is…?"

His voice trails off, and I grab his chin, forcing his eyes to mine. "You're brave and loyal. You're kind and thoughtful and smart. What parents wouldn't want a child like that? Our family is only complete with you in it, Misha."

A tear rolls down his cheek as he turns slowly to Andrey.

"I feel the same way, Misha. We would love to make you an official part of this family—if you'll have us."

Misha opens his mouth, but he collapses into tears and I grab him and hold him against my shoulder as he cries freely.

"We're gonna take that as a yes," I whisper into his ear.

He laughs through his sobs, and I meet Andrey's eyes over the top of Misha's head.

We have our answer.