Sinful Blaze (Chekhov Bratva Book 1)

Daphne’s eyes widen when she sees me walk through the door. “Oh! You’re home early! I haven’t started dinner yet.”

It seems whatever spooked her has passed. Thank God. “It’s alright. I’m taking you out for dinner instead. My treat.”

Her blush doesn’t escape my notice. She tries to keep herself busy and I know it’s a tactic, so before I can second-guess the instinct, I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist.

Her breath stills. Mine does the exact same. Every day, it seems like our baby is growing bigger and stronger. I rub my hand over her bump to feel the flutters and kicks.

Daphne sighs and leans into my embrace, her eyes slowly closing for a moment. Her hand rests on mine, and it’s startling to me how easy this is.

How easy “us” is.

“I’ve got something for you,” I murmur into her shoulder. Fuck, it’s so tempting to nibble her soft skin just to listen to her moans.

But I need to stay on task. I reach into my pocket and pull out the jewelry box I’ve been hanging onto for the last three hours.

“That better not be a car,” she teases.

“Fuck, you guessed it.” I pretend to sigh in disappointment. “I’ll send it back if you⁠—”

She grabs my wrist with a laugh. “No! Stop! I’m playing! I know Buccellati doesn’t make cars.”

“You know the jeweler?”

Her face falls. And then her eyes dart around like I’ve just caught her in the middle of something she shouldn’t be doing. “I mean, um…” She sighs and presses a few fingers to her temples. “Fine. You caught me.” Another deep breath, and she meets my gaze. “I’m a boarder.”

I try not to laugh. All the drama for that? “A boarder?”

“You know. A boarding school student.”

I still don’t get it.

“The kind only parents with private islands can afford.”

Oh.

That does explain a few things. It also indicates a glaring hole in the background research I had Mak run on her. Did the dossier even list her parents’ names? Or were they just listed as “alive and well”?

I’m about to ask her more when she interrupts me with a loud gasp.

She opened the box.

“Oh… oh my God. Pasha.”

My pride swells. So does something else, but I’m determined to stay focused on the topic at hand. The last thing I want is for her to go running away again.

Daphne carefully lifts the diamond filigree choker from the velvet box. The center stone is a brilliant cut of a four carat diamond, inlaid in white gold and surrounded by swirls of smaller diamonds that glitter and sparkle with every turn of her hand.

She won’t notice a few of the finer details, the ones I had included for myself and myself alone. Including a few choice Cyrillic letters that spell out “Chekhov.”

In other words… mine.

“It’s… This is…” She glances up at me with tears brimming on her lashes. “You really didn’t have to. You shouldn’t have.”

I slip the necklace from her hand and move behind her to carefully drape it around her neck. I don’t miss the shiver that runs through her when I sweep her long hair over one shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“But why?”

Something in the back of my mind flags this question as strange. She knows the exclusive jeweler, she apparently went to an elite boarding school, and I’ve watched her carry herself with the high-handed dignity of a proper socialite.

So why is she so skittish about receiving luxurious gifts?

Isn’t that something she should be used to?

“You’re doing all the heavy work carrying our baby,” I explain while turning her to face me. It feels so natural for my arms to rest around her waist, I leave them there. “Am I not allowed to show my appreciation for you?”

Her cheeks go pink. Does she know how alluring she can be when she’s like this? Soft and warm and vulnerable, in my arms and not fighting me at every turn?

Although I’d be lying if I said I don’t love her fire, too.

I also love the way the necklace looks on her. My name fucking belongs there, softly nestled against the tender skin of her throat.

It’s not a ring, but it’s damned near close. Anyone who runs in my circles will know that this is my woman. Off-limits. Exclusive to me and me alone.

And anyone who doesn’t run in my circles will learn the lesson soon.

Daphne leans up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my mouth. I let her do it without giving into my instincts for more.

I don’t need to claim her right now—the necklace is doing a perfect job of that on its own.

But she’s delicious and she’s mine. All mine to taste whenever and wherever I want to.

Soon enough, I will.

“Okay. Yay. Thank you. I guess I, uh… I should go get changed for dinner.” She eases away from me with a coy smile. Her hand lifts to touch her necklace, and her smile brightens.

Mine does, too.

Worth every penny.