Free Game Over (The Baltimore Banners Book 2) by Lisa B. Kamps

kind of training for this. And she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Nikolai. She stopped suddenly, a wave of fear and doubt washing over her and she reached out for the sofa, her hand gripping the wooden back to steady herself.
         Strong arms suddenly wrapped around her, holding her close, making her feel safe and secure. She buried her face in Nikolai's bare chest and squeezed her eyes shut against the burning behind her lids. Nikolai's voice was soft in her ear as he whispered soothing words of reassurance, his hands gently rubbing her back. Several minutes went by as she felt some of the tension leave her, as her body accepted the comfort he offered.
         "What has happened to upset you, moj dosadnyj malen'kij bich ? I do not like seeing you like this. Tell me, and I will help you."
         She took a deep breath, inhaling his warm spicy scent, feeling the heat of his chest against her face, and her stomach gave a little flip of excitement.
         Which was such a completely inappropriate response under the circumstances. "Damn. My life is so screwed up."
         The words tumbled out without any thought, and it wasn't until Nikolai's arms tightened around her and he murmured more words of assurance that she realized she had spoken them loud enough for him to hear. She pulled away, only slightly since he didn't loosen his hold on her, and looked up at him.
         His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, and she fought the impulse to rub against him like a cat. His gaze was serious, honest and concerned.
         "You say your life is screwed up. So tell me. You are pregnant?"
         "What?" She nearly shouted the question in her surprise and pulled out of his arms. "God, no! What? No! I haven't even had sex in over two years!"
         And okay, she hadn't meant for that to come out but..."God, no, I'm not pregnant! Why is that anytime a woman gets upset, men always assume it's because she's pregnant? God..."
         She turned her back to him and placed her hands over her face, feeling the heat of embarrassment flame her cheeks. Deep breaths...she forced herself to take three, then two more, trying to calm herself down, to regain some kind of control over the situation.
         And completely failing.
         "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It's just been a really bad day." And wasn't that an understatement? She turned back toward him, looking down at his feet, afraid to meet his gaze. "Listen, if I can just crash in your spare room for a couple of nights...I mean, no big deal if I can't, I can find another place to stay—"
         "Over two years?"
         The disbelief in his voice made her look up and she wanted to scream at the expression on his face. Shock and amusement were clear in his eyes, and she was torn between laughing and stomping on his foot. Neither reaction would have helped, so she chose to ignore his comment instead.
         "Can I stay here or not?"
         "Of course, moj dosadnyj malen'kij bich . Come." He grabbed her bag and tossed it over his shoulder, then took her hand and led her to the stairs. "We will take your things upstairs, and then I will make us some tea. And you can tell me why you are so upset."
         She followed him upstairs, her mind barely registering her surroundings. "I don't want tea." She sounded like a petulant child and mentally kicked herself for it. Her apology died on her lips, though, when she realized Nikolai was leading her into his bedroom. She stopped at the threshold, refusing to follow him in.
         The room was completely different from what she had seen of the rest of his house. While the other rooms consisted of bare-bones economical furnishings, this bedroom was pure masculine opulence.
         A huge bed constructed of dark oak took up the back wall. The coverings, rumpled from Nikolai's earlier slumber, were a rich black and cream design. They matched the rest of the décor in the room: