But if Pavel was quoting his uncle correctly, Nikolai was already thinking about and having a second biological child with her. She couldn’t tell whether the shiver that suddenly went down her back was because she was walking through a skating facility with only a light jacket on, or because of what Pavel said. Or because the thought of having another child with Nikolai, a little girl with his strong resolve, didn’t exactly repel her.
Pavel came to an abrupt stop. “He’s not here,” he said, his shoulders slumping with disappointment.
Indeed, the rink they were apparently headed toward was completely dark behind the plexiglas windows.
Sam frowned but kept her voice reassuring as she rubbed the little boy’s back. “Maybe he’s still in his office.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll text Isaac.”
But Dirk kept walking and beckoned them forward. “Isaac said to meet him here at 5:00 PM on the D.O.T. It’s 4:59 PM and I’m not getting in trouble because I missed the drop off.”
Dirk’s insistence on getting to the darkened rink on time surprised Sam. He was usually pretty flexible, but she supposed that was because she and Pavel were almost always where they were supposed be, when they were supposed to be for “the drop off.”
Irritated, but not wanting to cause Pavel’s bodyguard any unnecessary stress, she put a hand on Pavel’s back and guided him forward.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “He’ll probably be here soon, and we can just wait for him in the—”
Dirk flipped the lights on to reveal a large rink filled with smiling people. Many of whom she recognized as classmates of Pavel’s and their parents. There were also a couple of guys in full-on hockey gear, including a long-haired blond she’d seen on a few Polar’s posters. One of their star players, if she recalled correctly.
“SURPRISE!!!” they all yelled in unison.
It was a birthday party, Sam realized then. A birthday party for Pavel, who was just standing there beside her, frozen in shock.
Until his Uncle, who’d been standing in the middle of the crowd, skated forward and beckoned him forward with a solemn “Happy Birthday, Pavel.”
After that, Sam knew for sure what she’d only suspected before. All Pavel’s talk about not wanting a party had been a bunch of hooey. And it was totally disproved when he didn’t just walk, but flew across the ice towards his uncle, hugging him around the waist so hard, it was a wonder Nikolai was able to stay balanced on his skates.
At first Sam thought Pavel was laughing with delight when he buried his face in Nikolai’s side and his shoulders started shaking, but then there came a sound. A ragged keening that could not in any way be mistaken for laughter. Pavel was crying, she realized, crying so hard his whole body convulsed with it.
The rink grew quiet and for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was that of Pavel’s wild sobs, which were obviously about so much more than being surprised with a birthday party. Nikolai looked up at her, a heavy frown on his face, as if he blamed her for this unexpected response.
“Pavel, stop this,” he said to the boy. “Stop this now.”
Sam came forward, prepared to intervene so Nikolai wouldn’t make him feel ashamed about crying.
But then Nikolai gently patted the overcome boy on the back. “Come Pavel. It is time to stop crying,” he said quietly. “We all came here for you. Come, take your party.”
To Sam’s surprise, Pavel let his uncle out of the fierce clutch, sniffled once, and then did just that. Skating off to joining his cheering friends who seemed more than willing to overlook a little crying if it meant skating on the Polar’s ice rink with a few of the team’s players, no less.
She turned her gaze back to Nikolai and saw he was watching her watch Pavel finally get the party he deserved with a satisfied smirk in his eyes. And she wondered if he’d done this for Pavel. Or just to prove her wrong.
Either way, she couldn’t begrudge him the results. Pavel was flipping out, especially when the long-haired blond skated over to him with a pair of slick black skates, which from Pavel’s jumping up and down action, she could only assume were the coveted Bauer’s Pavel had mentioned earlier.
No doubt about it, whatever Nikolai’s true intentions, he’d made Pavel the happiest boy on earth. And she couldn’t help the warm feeling that erupted inside her chest, despite the smirking look he was giving her.
In fact, she wondered if she was ever going to figure out how to dislike Nikolai Rustanov as much as her good sense told her she should if she didn’t want to get hurt.
30
“They get along,” Nikolai’s cousin, Alexei, observed as they watched Pavel and Alexei’s son, Aaron, take part in a shooting drill game. It involved the Polar’s star left winger, Brian Atwood, who was acting as goalie.
Aaron was a couple years older than Pavel, but anyone who saw them together at the party likely assumed the light brown boys had known each other forever, the way they talked trash and encouraged each other during the drills in equal parts.
“Da,” Nikolai agreed.
At that moment, Pavel got a shot past Brian—most likely because he was the birthday boy and Brian was trying to get back into Nikolai’s good graces, so that he wouldn’t go through with his threat to trade him to the worst team in the league.
But Aaron treated it like a great feat, dropping his own stick and yelling, “Yeah, cuz! That’s how us Russians do! Act like you know!”
Then he began chanting, “Russia! Russia! Russia!”
Pavel’s classmates, who were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that there were not one but two biracial half-Russians at this birthday party, stared.
And Alexei’s mouth twitched, his eyes glimmering with amusement, as explained, “The boy takes after his mother.”
Nikolai’s own mouth twitched as he looked to the other side of the rink where Eva was standing with Samantha. The two women had started talking shortly after the cake had been served and much like Pavel and Aaron, they’d immediately hit it off. A half an hour later, they were still chatting away.
Nikolai wasn’t surprised. His wife and the Texan who, much to Nikolai’s consternation, insisted on calling him Nikki and his nephew Pavvy, had a lot in common beyond the color of their skin. Including backgrounds in social work, gregarious spirits, and Russian husbands. Of course they had decided to become instant best friends.
His wife had a way of immediately connecting with other women, Nikolai noted. That was probably what made her so good at her job. It also didn’t hurt that she seemed to have a warm smile for everyone she met.