Chapter 36
THEA
The private dining room at Le Bernardin feels like stepping into a fairy tale.
Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the Hudson. The tables are draped with cream-colored cloth and topped with fresh orchids. Soft jazz drifts in from the main restaurant, while candlelight casts everything in warm, golden hues.
The sight is gorgeous enough to make me forget, even if just for a moment, that there is a small army watching us. Gabriel’s men are present but invisible. If I try hard enough, I can almost pretend that we’re just a normal couple having dinner.
Almost.
“Dio, you look extraordinary,” Gabriel says as he helps me into my chair.
I’m wearing the emerald dress that Lara picked out weeks ago—one of the runner-up gowns for the gala. It hugs every curve in a way that makes me feel powerful instead of apologetic. Gabriel hasn’t stopped staring at me since I came down the stairs back at the mansion.
“Thank you.” I smooth the fabric over my stomach. My middle is still flat, but I can feel the difference, the life growing in there. I look out the window, my gaze tracking the glow of a boat out on the water. “I still can’t get over the fact that two months ago, I was cleaning bathrooms.”
Gabriel smiles. “Come now, the job couldn’t have been all bad.”
I laugh. “You want to give it a shot? Trust me, if I told you about some of the things I’ve seen, you wouldn’t be so excited about dinner.”
Gabriel reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“Two months ago, I didn’t know my life had yet to begin.”
His words move me in a way that I wasn’t ready for. Tears form in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. I squeeze his hand.
Before things can get too mushy, the sommelier arrives with wine. He pours something ruby red and delicious-looking for Gabriel, sparkling cider for me.
“To new beginnings,” Gabriel says, raising his glass.
“To surviving long enough to see them,” I reply.
His expression grows serious. “We will. I promise you that.”
I want to believe him.
Maybe by the end of tonight, I will.
Dinner arrives, each course more delicious than the last. Gabriel orders for both of us, which should annoy me but doesn’t. After all, he knows what I like. He knows I have a sweet tooth, that I don’t like anything too spicy, and that I can’t stand fish now that I’m pregnant.
“It’s good to see you eat so well tonight,” Gabriel says as I polish off the last of the duck, spearing it onto my fork with a bit of sweet potato. “You’ve been eating light the last few weeks.”
“You noticed?”
“Of course I did. I was worried.”
It feels good to know that he has been looking out for me, that nothing escapes his attention or care.
“Well, that was mainly because of the morning sickness. It’s gone for the most part, at least for now.”
I reach over to pluck a piece of duck from his plate and pop it into my mouth. He watches with amusement.
“See? Appetite back. And thank God—I’d almost forgotten how good food tasted.”
He flashes me a smirk. “You know, there’s not a person on this planet other than you who I’d allow to steal food from my plate.”
I match his smile with one of my own. “In that case, I’ll savor the privilege.”
He sips his wine. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to it. Toddlers are notorious food thieves, I hear.”
“That’s right. You’ll need to practice for when he or she snatches little bites here and there.”
He glances down at my belly. “Speaking of the baby, does he or she approve of the meal?”
I place my hand on my middle. “Baby definitely approves.”
When the waiter returns with the dessert menu, I glance at it briefly, then set it aside.
“Nothing for you?” Gabriel asks.
“I’m full.” The lie comes automatically. Old habits.
He studies me for a moment. I love and hate that look all at once—it means he’s looking through me, seeing what I’m hiding.
“The chocolate souffle caught your eye when it passed by earlier. I could see you looking at it.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “It’s fine. I don’t need—”
“Thea.” His voice is firm, though not without care. “Look at me.”
I do as he says.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Gabriel—”
“Not what you think you should want. Not what you think is appropriate or reasonable, or whatever bullshit you’ve been taught to tell yourself.” He leans forward. “What do you want?”
That’s easy. The chocolate souffle, with vanilla bean ice cream and raspberry coulis.
“It’s too much,” I say quietly. “I already ate—”
“You’re eating for two now.” His hand covers mine on the table. “And more importantly, you’re eating for you. When’s the last time you let yourself have something you really wanted without apologizing for it?”
The question gives me pause.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
He nods, as if that was the reply he was expecting.
“Then we’re changing that tonight, and for good.” He signals the waiter. “Two chocolate soufflés, please. With all of the accompaniments.”
He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my knuckles. “You’re going to stop denying yourself things that make you happy. Understood?”
Tears prick my eyes. “It’s silly. I’m getting emotional over dessert.”
“It’s not about dessert, and you know that.” His thumb strokes over my skin. “It’s about you believing you deserve good things, sweet things, pleasure without guilt.” He pauses. “You deserve all of it, Thea—the soufflé, the happiness, the love. All of it.”
The dessert soon arrives—warm chocolate heaven with perfect clouds of ice cream and raspberries. I take the first bite, then close my eyes in bliss.
“Good?” he asks.
“Incredible.”
“Then enjoy every bite. And never hesitate to ask for what you want again.”
I grin.
“So have you thought about any names?”
I take another bite. God, it’s so good.
“A few. You?”
He narrows his eyes in a very sexy, thoughtful manner.
“If it’s a boy,” he pauses, “I’d like to honor your father. Lev, maybe. Or the English version—Leo.”
The suggestion catches me off guard in the best possible way.
“And if it’s a girl?”
“Your choice completely. Though you have veto power either way.”
“Masha, after my mother.”
His smile is soft as he scoops up another spoonful. “Perfect.”
I take another bite, turning my attention to the river once again. The boat I’d been watching before is approaching the southern tip of Manhattan, ready to round it and head out of sight.
“You really think we can do this?”
He sets down his spoon. “I think we’re already doing it. You’re carrying our child, Thea. We’re planning our future. We’re sitting here, like any other couple, enjoying what will be one of the last quiet nights out before their child arrives.” He says that last part with a smile.
Right at that moment, I catch a glimpse of one of the guards—a wall of a man with a shaved head and a tattoo of a rose laden with thorned vines crawling up his neck. He emerges from a hallway, looks around, then ducks back into the shadows.
“Except most couples don’t have armed guards watching them eat soufflés,” I reply.
“Details.” His thumb traces over my knuckles. “The important parts are the same. We’re together. We love this baby. We’re going to protect him or her with everything we have.”
“But what kind of world are we bringing them into, Gabriel? What if we solve this problem with Kolya and another one takes its place? What if this never ends? What if they grow up with bodyguards and bulletproof cars and—”
“Then we’ll make the best version of that world that we can.” There’s no doubt in his voice. “But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that.”
“Tell me why you think that way.”
He sits back and takes a deep breath. Then he tells me about his meeting with Alexei, about Max Federov.
“I have a cousin?”
“You do. And he’s being very discreet about it. He doesn’t want to put you in danger by meeting right now, so he’s headed back to Moscow. It’s Max who we need to focus on. If we can bring him into all of this, it could be just what we need to crush Kolya.”
“And he wants to see me?”
“He likely will. If we’re going to war because the true Fetisov heir is still alive, he’s going to want more than just my word for it. We’ll take every precaution. First, he and I will meet. Then we’ll come to the house so he can see you with his own two eyes. And then…”
I know what “then” means. He doesn’t need to explain. “So that’s what tonight is about? One last night of our kind of normalcy before the shit hits the fan?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not just about that. It’s about you and me and the baby, celebrating what’s to come. And it’s about me seeing you in that dress again.”
I blush. I can’t help it.
A thoughtful expression forms on his face. Then he stands and offers me his hand.
“Dance with me.”
“Here?”
“Why not? The restaurant is ours for the night.”
I can’t help but smile as he pulls me up and into his arms. We sway gently to the distant music. His hands rest at my waist, careful and reverent.
“Sei Bellissima,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you are beautiful.” He spins me gently, and I laugh. “You are carrying our child, and you’ve never been more magnificent.”
I purse my lips. “I don’t feel magnificent. I feel terrified and overwhelmed and—” I stop. “But I also feel hopeful.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, it is.” I lean into him, my head on his chest. “I think we might actually be able to make this work somehow.”
“We will,” he says, not a trace of hesitation to his voice. “Whatever it takes.”
We sway together in the candlelight.
“Take me home,” I whisper.
He looks at me, a curious expression on his face.
“Something wrong?”
“No, it’s perfect, in fact. But I can think of a way to make this night even better.”
His concern fades, a sensual smile spreading across his handsome face.
“Let’s go.”