Page 7 of The Russian Billionaire's Accidentally Pregnant Bride
Invite me in.
Three simple words, and yet there was something about the way Sergei Grachyov spoke that made my insides clench.
And those eyes—-
God, those dark, dark eyes that made me think offuck, fuck, fuck—-
I quickly slapped my cheeks, privately appalled at the direction of my thoughts.
“Anything wrong?”
Ignoring the gleam of knowing amusement in his eyes, I put my hands down right away, mumbling, “N-nothing.”He was totally laughing at me, the jerk. Frustration had me falling back on an old habit, and I kicked the door shut behind me unthinkingly.
Sergei’s eyes gleamed brighter.
Shit.My cheeks heated up as I realized I had practically thrown a tantrum in front of him.
“You’re sure everything’s fine?” His voice was oh-so-polite, but the way he was looking at me told me he was laughing at me.
I lifted my chin. “Totally fine.”
And it was.
I didn’t care what he thought of me anyway.
I didn’t!
As I tried to convince myself of this, I managed to smile brightly at Sergei, asking, “So...do you want, uh, anything to drink?”
“Coffee would be nice.”
I nearly gawked at him while blurting out,Really?I was a caffeine junkie myself, and depending on my mood, I’d have either tea or coffee even at night. That I actually had something like that in common with Sergei Grachyov made me feel so, so—-
Giddy.
The realization made me blink.
Giddy?
I wanted to kill myself over it. I was 29 years old, for heaven’s sake. I had no right to be giddy like a high school girl. Clearing my throat, I muttered warningly, “I only have instant.”
“That’s more than fine with me.”
“Oh. Okay.”Shit.I had hoped he’d prove himself a snob and turn my offer down.
I took a step forward, but he remained where he was, blocking my path. “Umm...excuse me?” When he still didn’t move, I looked up—-
SHIT.
That lookwas back in his eyes again.
That I-want-to-fuck-youlook.
“I’m sure we can fit,” he murmured lazily.
Yes, we would...but only if I allowed our bodies to touch.
And he knew that.