What's Left Of Me (The Firebird Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the day?”
    “Don’t know. Maybe do some stuff around here. So the call, da ? From an old friend in Russia. How do you feel about finally making the trip?”
    “Guess I should meet my in-laws sometime.” Although, Alex had informed her, they didn’t speak a word of English.
    “And they’re dying to meet you and Anya. Anyway, my friend. She’s a pop star back home. She wants me to record a song with her for her new album, and shoot a video.”
    “You’re a regular Renaissance man. So this is someone you knew from school?”
    “ Da. We met in secondary. Had music classes together, and my mother gave her voice lessons.”
    She made a slight noise in her throat. “So you were close.”
    Alex set his chopsticks down and crinkled his nose. “I know that look.”
    “I didn’t give you a look.” All her expertise at interpreting expressions, and she couldn’t control her own.
    “Baby.” He folded his arms.
    “Oh, come on. I have a right. Russian women are gorgeous.”
    “And yet, instead of going home, I married my American love.” Alex closed his hands over hers on the bistro table. “Listen. We went to senior prom together. We were friends. I didn’t start…you know, until Buffalo signed me. Honestly, I didn’t want to go, but Natashka and my parents insisted. Thought it would help.”
    “Cutesy nickname and everything.”
    “Stefania, you’re being silly.”
    “What’s her full name? So I can Google her.”
    “Nataliya Pisarenkova.” His mouth twitched. Trying not to laugh. “Stage name Natasha Pisare.”
    “Stop laughing.” Stephanie slipped a hand out from under his and poked at the noodles and shrimp in her bowl. “Why didn’t you ever mention her?”
    “Why would I? I practically forgot she existed until I went back home.”
    All jealousy would do was imply that she didn’t believe him. Did he ever return to those earlier, unsullied pages of his life story? Wish he could smudge the ink and write over the traces of her, a palimpsest, to see if the outcome changed?
    “Someone is having deep thoughts.” His eyes gleamed with mischief.
    “Sorry. I do need a project to work on while I’m on leave. Not that I don’t love taking care of Anya, but—”
    “You don’t have to justify it to me, devochka . Do what makes you happy. If you want to go back to work, I’ll be here. Training camp is months away.”
    “You’d be okay with that?”
    “You get back to work, I get to bond with my little girl before I’m on the road again, everyone’s happy. And in the meantime, I’ll work on the nanny situation. But let’s go to Russia, okay? I’ll teach you some basic phrases so you can get by.”
    She had picked up a few from living with him for nearly a year, albeit mostly curse words. Stephanie squeezed his fingers. “Okay. Call your parents. And what’s-her-face. We’ll go in a few weeks. It’ll be worth it to see you in a music video.”
    “We’ll have fun. You’ll love it. Now come here.” Alex crooked his finger, his lips curving into his trademark sexy smirk.
    Stephanie sat on his lap and draped her arms around his neck. He settled his hands on her waist, kissed the soft skin of her upper arms. His lips quickened the desires she tried to suppress with another three weeks before she fully healed. But dear God, it was an uphill battle with a husband like this.
    Anya warbled her alarm that someone had better fix her messy diaper.
    Alex gently kissed Stephanie’s forehead. “I’ll change her.” He gathered the baby from her bassinet and carried her upstairs. “ Bozhe moy , child!” drifted his voice from the nursery. “Where does all of this come from?”
    Laughing, Stephanie cleared the dishes, then retreated to her office. She typed “Natasha Pisare” into the browser search box and clicked on her Wikipedia page.
     
    Nataliya Pisarenkova , known by her stage name Natasha Pisare , is a Russian singer, songwriter, and producer. Her music blends dance-pop with