The Russian's Pregnant Mistress Read Free Page A

Debra’s jealous look. “Everyone, thank you for including me tonight, but I have to head out. This isn’t my kind of scene and I don’t like treating people in this manner.” She received applause and cheers from the more conservative half of the group. Obviously several of the others had been feeling the same thing but were too intimidated by the debutants’ cattiness to say something. That actually made Gabby feel stronger, more in control and powerful.
    Maggie laughed and was about to stand up but Gabby put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Maggs. I can get home on my own. Stay and dance, have a great time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    With as much dignity as possible, Gabby picked up her purse and turned on her heel. She didn’t even glance at the smirking Sylvia and Debra, ignoring the way they put their heads together as if they were gossiping about her inability to hook up with a man like Mr. Petrov. With her head held high, she started walking through the crowd but instead of turning towards the man in question, she walked in the opposite direction. She wished she had the courage to talk to him, at least say hello or introduce herself, but that really wasn’t her style. Well, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t really have a style when it came to picking up men. She tended to tread very carefully with the men she went out with, usually accepting dates only from men she knew well and were already friends with.
    She grimaced as she headed for the exit, knowing that her current ‘modus operandi’ wasn’t working too well for her since she was twenty-five and still single. Not that twenty-five was old. But she’d only had two significant relationships, and neither had resulted in an intimate, physical relationship because the men hadn’t fascinated her enough to take the plunge into a sexual bond.
    She smiled politely at several men who tried to step in her way, but kept on walking, showing them with her body language that she was not interested.
    Unfortunately, she might not be interested for a long time after seeing her mystery man. How does one go back to sipping tap water when one has seen the champagne? The men who were trying to stall her exit all seemed like milk toast compared to that man Sylvia and Debra had called Damon Petrov. Even from a distance he had increased her pulse. She didn’t want to deal with any of this, besides, it was late and she wanted to just fall asleep in her warm, comfortable bed and not think about this disastrous evening until tomorrow morning, when she could start planning Maggie’s real bridal shower and not some sham of a dance club fiasco.
    “You left a very angry group of women behind,” a deep voice said from the side of the lobby. The music was much softer from this area and Gabby swung around, wanting to find the source of that sexy voice. It couldn’t be him! Could it?
    There he was, in the flesh and walking towards her. She looked up at him as if he were some sort of approaching god and she knew she should close her mouth and appear casual, but this man was even more handsome up close. And goodness he was tall! She had to tilt her head back to look up at him when he stopped about a foot away from her.
    “I’m sorry?”
    “Your friends? They were very angry that you walked out on their fun.” He let that sink in then stepped slightly closer. “You should have risen to their challenge,” he said more softly. “You would have won the bet.”
    Gabby tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but she was having trouble breathing with his spicy male scent filling her nostrils. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice sounding as if she’d just run a marathon. She even liked the lilting accent. It was barely there, but still noticeable and it gave each of his words a texture that wasn’t apparent when Americans spoke.
    Damon reached down and touched a soft curl that looked as if it were tickling her cheek. “The bet,” he repeated. “The