An incubator for your babies? #MFRWhooks

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n n​Now that she and her best friends are out of danger, Cecily Carrigan is restless. Pyotr’s boss bought a restaurant and installed her as head chef. She lives rent-free with a with a sexy beast of a Russian mobster who treats her like a queen, but hasn’t offered marriage. She detests Cleveland, cold weather, and the Bratva. Conflicted and confused, what’s a girl to do when she suffers a crisis of conscience? n nShe removes herself from temptation and leaves. n nMoving to San Antonio where the weather’s warm and the restaurant scene fiercely competitive, Cecily works to find herself and rebuild her self-respect… and discovers that she left the secret to happiness behind in the form of a big Russian with a heart of gold.n n n nn n n n

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nExcerpt 
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n“I’m not weak,” she protested. 

n“No, but your strength is different.” His eyes glinted. “You will make such beautiful babies.”

n“Babies!” she spluttered, spraying bits of egg.
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nHe leaned back in his chair, gaze assessing her. “What? You did not think I invited every woman whose body I enjoyed to live with me?”
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nFrom the darkening expression on her face, he could see that he’d not expressed himself well. Cecily set down her fork with a distinct clink.
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n“That’s all I am to you? A body to enjoy and an incubator for your babies?”
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nNot much scared Pyotr, but this cold, hard expression on his beloved Cecily’s face did. Thus far, he’d managed to keep her bound to him by virtue of a job she loved and frequent, amazing sex. However, dread churned his belly as she rose from the chair.
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n“Thank you for breakfast,” she said with chilly politeness and left the table, her food mostly uneaten.
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n“Cecily!” he called after her.
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nShe ignored him and disappeared into the bedroom.
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nHe rose from the table to go after her, but his cell phone rang.
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n“Da.”
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nThere was no polite inquiry as to whether that was a good time, only the command, “Come, you are needed.”
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nThere was only one possible response: “On my way.”
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nWishing he could pursue Cecily, apologize, and explain what he really meant, he heeded Maksim’s call. Instead, he poked his head into the bedroom and said, “I must go.”
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nCecily, tugging on a comfortable pair of jeans, nodded her acknowledgement without turning to look at him. The snub stung.
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nPyotr left.
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nWhen dressed, Cecily stood in the room, completely unsure of herself. Slowly, she walked to the nightstand where her phone lay plugged into recharge. She unplugged it and dialed.
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n“What’s up, Cece?”
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n“Latasha, are you busy?”
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n“Girl, I am always busy, but never too busy for you. What do you need?”
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n“I—I need to talk.”
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n“Did that big, dumb Russian hurt you?” her friend growled.
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n“Er, no, he wouldn’t hit me.” She knew that for truth. The big, brutal Russian treated her with utmost care. Gennady hurt women, not Pyotr, and liked it.
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nLatasha’s sigh seemed to hit her ear with a long-distance gust of air. “You working tonight?”
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n“Yeah.”
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n“My shift doesn’t end until four o’clock. God, hospital hours are crazy. Anyway, I can meet you during your break tonight or…” The silence lasted about three seconds. “No, no, that won’t work. Tell me now, girl, what’s got you so upset.”
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n“It’s Pyotr.”
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n“Well, duh. What did the big oaf do?”
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nTears welled up and ran down Cecily’s cheeks as she blurted, “He said he wants me for sex and babies!”
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n​“Whoa, there,” Latasha cautioned. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”n

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