Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  She sat in the chair by the bed and looked at the floor. “Siberia.”

  He shook his head. “Where are you actually from?”

  “Saint Petersburg.”

  I sat up in the bed.

  Kaz pushed further. “What’s your real last name?”

  She placed her hands in her lap and stared at them. “Turgenev.”

  “There are three wealthy families in Saint Petersburg—Kuznetsov, Oblonskey, and Turgenev. Any relation?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, but never looked our way.

  I widened my eyes. “Are you hiding from your family?”

  “No. I was cast out.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She looked at me. “Because. . .I wasn’t born a woman.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. “Well. . .I don’t have a problem with that. It is what it is.”

  A smile appeared on her face. For the first time that day, she gazed my way. “I still like the nickname.”

  “Lemon?” I smiled.

  “Yes.”

  Kaz frowned. “You’re a man?”

  I elbowed him. “Lemon is a woman now. Just leave it alone.”

  She rose. “I’ll. . .let you finish up.”

  “Okay.”

  She headed away and then stopped. “If. . .it’s okay. I don’t want anyone else in the brotherhood to know.”

  I nodded. “It’s not of their concern. And if something comes up, then let me know.”

  “Thank you, Emily.”

  Lemon left.

  When the door shut, Kaz cringed. “He’s a woman?”

  “Oh my God. It’s a new time.”

  “What is going on with the world?”

  “A lot so you might as well get used to it.”

  Throughout the day, my lion’s phone rang a lot.

  He ignored it.

  Besides bathroom breaks and a shower here and there, we remained in bed, hiding from the world. A peace came with these days. Comfort and healing too.

  No sex happened. My body was too sore. And Kaz never asked or pushed it. Perhaps, he wasn’t in the mood either.

  By the third morning, I rose from bed and headed to the bathroom.

  Rolling over, Kaz yawned. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to shower. I have my follow-up medical appointment today.”

  Stretching, he sat up. “I’m coming.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s just a checkup.”

  “Still, I want to be there.”

  “You have a lot to do.”

  “Not as important as this. The brotherhood can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Can it?”

  “The brotherhood will actually have to wait a week. Misha texted me last night. My uncle’s funeral is in two days.”

  “When will we leave for Prague?”

  “Tomorrow morning, if you’re up to it.”

  “That’s fine.” I headed to the shower and tried not to think too much about anything. If I thought of the past, I would get depressed. If I considered our future, I would become anxious. All I could do was focus on the present moment, the shower, the medical appointment, and then getting back in bed.

  Everything will be okay. Soon, I’ll feel like me again.

  My body seemed different. In no way was it the same from weeks ago. I had no idea when the feeling of me would return.

  Everything has changed.

  Hours later, we sat in the doctor’s office. Twenty people deep. Luckily, our armed men all sat or stood in the lobby, freaking out the other patients.

  Meanwhile, Kaz remained next to me in the medical room, holding my hand as I sat on the bed. The nurse had already taken my blood. I’d even had to go into the private bathroom for a urine sample and then come out and give it to her. Kaz remained right there as my savior and foundation.

  I was glad he came, but the others could have stayed at home. I grabbed a health magazine on the tiny table near the bed. “Kaz, everyone didn’t have to ride along.”

  “I’m not risking you getting taken again. I bombed Paris. Jean-Pierre will want to deal with it.”

  “Jean-Pierre is hiding somewhere, hoping that I’m taming you.”

  “Well, he’ll be happy to realize that you are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Trust me. You are.”

  “No one can tame a lion.” I looked up from the magazine. “Have you ever heard of Siegfried and Roy?”

  “The names sound familiar.”

  “They’re considered master illusionists of white tiger magic. They had a big show in Las Vegas. I think they were German.”

  Kaz snorted, “Germans and tigers? This should be a good story.”

  “They had cheetahs and lions too.”

  “Please, say one of the lions ate them.”

  I closed the magazine. “That’s not nice.”

  “It’s not nice to put animals in a show and make money off of them.”

  “You let a bunch of lions out in Paris.”

  “They were trapped in the zoo. I gave them a form of freedom.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Either way, Roy led out a white tiger from a cage. It was a 380-pound cat. Apparently, the tiger got distracted by someone in the audience. There was no barrier protecting the audience—”

  “That sounds stupid. There should be a gate.”

  “He was supposed to have control of the tigers.”

  “What happened?”

  “Roy put himself between the tiger and the front row. Then, Roy gave him a command to lie down. The tiger refused and clamped his jaws around Roy’s neck. In fact, the tiger dragged him thirty feet offstage.”

  “Tigers are predators.”

  “Just like lions.” I raised a finger in the air. “See. No one can tame them.”

  Kaz smiled. “Still. . .you’ve tamed me.”

  “Yeah right.”

  The door opened, and the Dr. Stovall entered. His English was decent with a soft accent. Not Russian, but definitely from some country in Eastern Europe. “Hello, Emily. How are you doing this morning? Any soreness or aches?”

  “A little.”

  Dr. Stovall came over and stood in front of me. “I want to say sorry again.”

  “That’s fine.” I just wanted to get all of this over with and return to bed.

  Dr. Stovall refused to rush through it. “It is important that you don’t blame yourself. The reason for miscarriage is varied, and most often the cause cannot be identified.”

  If you knew what I did in the past two weeks, you might change your thoughts on that.

  “During the first trimester, the most common cause of miscarriage is chromosomal abnormality.” Dr. Stovall looked at Kaz. “Meaning that something is not correct with the baby’s chromosomes. Most chromosomal abnormalities are the cause of a damaged egg or sperm cell or are due to a problem at the time that the zygote went through the division process.”

  I placed my hands in my lap and twisted my fingers. “I understand.”

  The doctor continued, “For women in their childbearing years, the chances of having a miscarriage can range 15-20%. Which means you’re not alone in this situation.”

  “Okay.” I stirred in my seat. “What are we doing today?”

  “Today, the main goal is to prevent hemorrhaging and infection. I would like to do an exam.” His expression grew serious. “I need to make sure that your body expelled all the fetal tissue by itself and will not require further medical procedures.”

  I swallowed. I couldn’t even look Kaz’s way.

  How did it sound to him? My body expelling our baby.

  “If the body does not expel all the tissue,” the doctor said. “The most common procedure performed to stop bleeding and prevent infection is a dilation and curettage, known as a D&C. But we can discuss that further and talk about a possible prescription.”

  I didn’t want to expel anything. And I didn’t want some procedure or drugs. I just wanted to get back in bed and lay in
Kaz’s arms and forget about our loss, pretend like it never happened to us.

  “Have you discussed, if you will try for another pregnancy?” He scanned our faces.

  I didn’t speak.

  Kaz took my hand. “That’s a discussion for another day. Right now, I want to make sure she is healthy.”

  “Good. I believe every couple should wait to attempt again until the mother is physically, as well as emotionally ready.”

  The mother. I’m not one.

  “There is no perfect amount of time to wait before trying to conceive again,” he said. “But I recommend waiting at least a few months.”

  Not knowing what else to say or how to deal with that information, I whispered, “Okay.”

  “Please put on the robe. I want to do a pelvic exam. I will leave you now and go over the blood tests.” Dr. Stovall went away.

  Kaz quirked his brows. “Pelvic exam?”

  “It’s the joy of having a vagina. You get to open your legs wide and be prodded.”

  Kaz frowned. “So, he’s going to be sticking his fingers—”

  “Kaz, surely you’ve heard of a pap smear before or—”

  “Why would I’ve heard of any sort of smear?”

  Laughing, I considered that as I took off my shoes, pants, and panties. “I don’t know. Maybe your sister or something.”

  “No. My sister and I don’t talk about her smears.” He rose and took my clothes. “You’re just going to be wearing this robe?”

  “I’ll keep my bra on. He probably won’t check my breasts.”

  “Why would he need to touch your breasts?”

  “I’m ignoring you.” I gave him my shirt, put on the robe, and sat down on the bed.

  Kaz walked around it and studied the metal parts at the bottom. He pulled one out. “What’s this for?”

  “Those are clamps. They will hold my legs up.” I laughed. “Sit down, please and stop playing with that.”

  He carried my clothes over to his chair and sat. “Be careful, Roy. You don’t want the lion to bite you.”

  “Just try it.” I grinned.

  A knock sounded.

  I lifted my head a little. “Come in.”

  The doctor entered. Earlier when he came in, he had a neutral expression. This time concern covered his face.

  He pressed his hands together in a half praying position. “I’m sorry, but we are also going to do an ultrasound, before we do the pelvic exam.”

  “Why?” I sat up. “Is something wrong with my blood tests?”

  Dr. Stovall didn’t look like he wanted to respond.

  Kaz spoke with a threatening tone, “What’s wrong?”

  The doctor blinked at Kaz and then walked over to me. He lifted the end of the stethoscope around his neck. “I would just like to check something. Can you lay down please?”

  My lion rose. “What’s going on?”

  “Kaz,” I whispered, “Just let the doctor check. . .whatever.”

  Dr. Stovall placed the stethoscope on my chest. He nodded as he must’ve been listening to my heart. Next, he lowered it to my stomach and remained there for several seconds.

  I tensed, unsure of where this was going.

  Suddenly, fear filled me.

  No. Don’t do that. Don’t listen. . .like there’s something there. . .don’t do that to me.

  Dr. Stovall lifted the stethoscope and left the table.

  I sat up. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I’m sorry. I need to make sure, before we discuss this any further.” Dr. Stovall rolled over some small machine near the bed, took a wire, and connected it to the stethoscope. Then, he placed the other end on my chest.

  A continuous beat rose in the room. He’d had the stethoscope connected to some sort of speaker. “This is your heartbeat.”

  My hands shook.

  He moved the stethoscope down and placed it on my stomach.

  A soft slower beat filled the room.

  Oh my God. Who’s that?

  Placing my clothes on another chair, Kaz rose and walked over to my side.

  The doctor widened his eyes. “And that’s your baby.”

  I shook my head. My eyes watered. “Don’t do that. You told me that I had a miscarriage.”

  “You did.”

  The door opened.

  The nurse from earlier entered, rolling in another machine.

  “I want to do an ultrasound, before I further explain.” Dr. Stovall gestured for her to hurry.

  Silent, Kaz held my hand as they set everything up. Next the nurse gave me a small blanket to cover my lower body. Then, she lifted the gown and exposed my stomach.

  Dr. Stovall smeared a cool gel on me and rubbed the ultrasound handle on my stomach. Minutes passed. I spotted shapes on the screen, but nothing made sense.

  And then Dr. Stovall spoke, “Yes. That is what happened.”

  Kaz stared at the ultrasound screen. “What happened?”

  “This is called Vanishing Twin Syndrome,” Dr. Stovall explained.

  Shock knocked at my chest. “I had twins?”

  “Yes. Vanishing Twin Syndrome arises when a twin or multiple disappears in the uterus during pregnancy as a result of a miscarriage of one twin or multiple. The fetal tissue is usually absorbed by the other twin, placenta, or the mother.” Dr. Stovall continued. “Vanishing Twin Syndrome occurs in 21-30% of multifetal pregnancies.”

  Confused, I stared at the screen. “But. . .what happened to the other twin?”

  “It is mostly unknown. Some speculate that it is abnormalities that results in the vanishing twin.”

  “What usually happens to the surviving twin?” Kaz asked.

  “Most of the time, the baby is healthy. Rarely there is a problem.” He gave the handle to the nurse and wiped the gel off with a towel. “This is good that it happened so early. If the twin died in the second or third trimester, there would have been increased risks to the surviving fetus.”

  I blinked. “So. . .I’m pregnant?”

  The doctor smiled. “You are.”

  Kaz held my hand, but he grew stiff and silent.

  The doctor rose. “I will give you some time and then return. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Stunned, I watched the nurse and doctor leave.

  Kaz remained quiet.

  I looked at him. “Baby. . .”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “I am.” I turned and stared at the wall. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You had twins.”

  I let out a long breath. “I did. I’m. . .happy and sad.”

  “Me too, mysh.” He lowered and kissed my forehead. “But. . .I’m more happy than sad. How else do you feel? Do you need anything?”

  I swallowed. “No.”

  I didn’t know what I would need anyway. A range of conflicting emotions came over me. I had lost a baby and then gained another.

  Twins? One vanished and one survived. How do I process that?

  I felt stupid, still sitting in mourning. I should have been completely happy. I was pregnant. Still, a part of me was sad about the twin that had disappeared.

  Shh. This is a blessing. I’m pregnant. Try not to think too much about what you’ve lost. Focus on the blessing.

  Dumb thoughts came to my mind. Would the surviving twin feel alone inside of me? Would him or her continue to feel that loss, once born? I knew that twins had a strong bond—a strong connection. Did it begin in the womb?

  I placed my hand over my stomach.

  I’m here, baby. You’re not by yourself.

  As if Kaz heard me, he placed his hand over mine.

  We both touched my stomach.

  He whispered, “We will get through this and have a healthy baby.”

  “We will?”

  “Yes.”

  Stunned, I shuddered under him. “Yes. We will.”

  He lowered and kissed me again.

  I’m pregnant.

  I relaxed in his love. So far, he’
d been my anchor in these past days, keeping me strong and making sure I didn’t drown in depression.

  Now we had a child on the way. Anxiety rushed through my veins, but I would not let it overtake me. With Kaz, anything was possible.

  When he rose, he hit me with an intense gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “I am going to be an annoying lion for these next months.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “If you think I have been overprotective now, then. . .”

  “Kaz—”

  “You will not leave that bed.”

  I parted my lips.

  “Mysh, I don’t want you doing too much.”

  “If the doctor puts me on bed rest, then that is fine, but I’m not—”

  “We’ll see.”

  I grinned, not caring anymore. If he wanted to protect me, then I would let him. Anything was better than him standing in his war room and bringing terror to another country.

  I’m pregnant. Is the world ready for the lion to become a father? Or me to become a mother? Holy shit.

  Chapter 6

  Cigars and Brandy

  Kazimir

  Emily underwent a lot.

  When we returned to the house, I carried her upstairs despite her protest. She had no idea how much I would spoil her. She’d proved to not only be the most important person in my life, but now she carried my child, after we lost another. There would be nothing I wouldn’t do for her—no obstacle I wouldn’t tear down, if it got in her way.

  Emily wanted to take another shower.

  When she went into the bathroom, I took the butler aside. “Did Pavel give you my message?”

  “Yes, sir.” Friedrich said. “I will bring lunch up soon. Would you like to have us prepare the balcony?”

  “No. I want her lounging in bed.”

  Friedrich nodded. “We will get several trays and make her as comfortable as possible.”

  I patted his back. “Good job.”

  Friedrich had been working for me since my mother. When she passed, I kept him on. He was considered one of the best. He had graduated from the International Butler Academy with high honors. And he orchestrated one of the best lobster raviolis that I had ever tasted. I loved the dish so much I used to sit in the huge kitchen and watch him prepare the meal as I sipped a fine glass of wine.

  Friedrich made each ravioli by hand, using fresh ingredients. While he could have just solely use the lobster tail, he included the less glamorous parts of the animal—knuckles, claws and legs—transforming these luscious scraps into a flavor-packed filling. Then, he poached them in a rich lobster stock. Fresh basil perfumed each ounce of meat. Tomato chutney provided the perfect bed for these little pillows of perfection.