Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho
““Damn!” she whispered. “Damn, damn, damn!”
She was totally, undeniably pregnant.
If the constant queasiness that had set in a couple of days ago hadn’t made it clear enough, the fact that she was four days into her usually clockwork cycle with still no period made it crystal clear. And just in case that wasn’t evidence enough, she now had these three over-the-counter pregnancy tests: one with two lines, one with a cross, one stating in letters bold and plain, “Pregnant.”
So no, there was pretty much zero doubt. She was pregnant.
Sam slumped back against the wall, her stomach roiling with more than morning sickness. How was she going to tell Nikolai about this?
She had to tell him. She promised she would. But, oh God, this would make things so awkward. Even more awkward than things currently were, with her tenuously serving as a sort of de facto nanny to Pavel, two weeks after Nikolai had officially been awarded custody of his nephew.
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