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Viktor didn’t argue, but he didn’t promise not to, either. He couldn’t.
Madison looked at him with something far more attractive than compassion. Her eyes glowed that way they did when she called him her white knight. Viktor had no clue what in this particular situation would put that look on her face, but he would not question the obvious lack of the one emotion he hated above all others.
Pity.
His babulya’s eyes usually filled with a tranquility he’d always relied on, but now shimmered with regret. “We think we let go of too many traditions and he felt himself cast adrift.”
“Oh, for...” Viktor clenched his jaw to bite back the first words that came to his mind. “Dad did not become a con artist because he didn’t have a traditional Russian wedding. The one right and good thing he did in his life was his marriage to my mom.”
“That is not true,” Misha said in a deep voice so like Viktor’s own. “He fathered you.”
Viktor opened his mouth and shut it again without a word.
Madison grinned, a smug glint in her azure eyes. “I told him the same thing.”
“You are a very good match for our grandson.” His grandmother’s answering smile was blinding. “It pleases Misha and me very much that you appreciate our Viktor as we do.”
“He’s easy to love.”
Once again Viktor did not know how to respond to those words, though he liked hearing them. Very much.
But love was not something he had ever considered in the equation of his marriage to Madison and the life they would build together. Was it enough that she felt the emotion, or did she expect him to reciprocate one day?
Could he? Did he even know how?
He had never been in love before. The affection between his grandparents had grown over time and did not look on the surface anything like the passion that burned between Viktor and Madison.
The silence had stretched and it should have been awkward, but the three most important people in the world to him simply observed Viktor with varying degrees of understanding.
It was a strange experience, but not unpleasant.
“Thank you,” he finally said to Madison, hoping that once again it was enough.
His grandfather winced, but patted Viktor on the shoulder. Misha didn’t say anything, though.
Madison’s smile turned soft in a way Viktor did not understand, but liked nonetheless.
His grandmother rolled her eyes. “Viktor, my dear grandson, you have much to learn about romance.”
Viktor could not deny it.
She didn’t seem to expect an answer. “Is it so much to ask you follow a few of our family’s traditions?”
“I’m not answering before you tell me exactly which ones you’re talking about.” His caution was necessary.
Russian wedding preparations and celebrations could become extremely complicated and involved.
But his grandparents’ requests weren’t unreasonable, even if they did mean Madison had to spend the night before her wedding at Jeremy’s home instead of Viktor’s bed.
* * *
Five weeks after Perry’s exposé, Maddie waited in the drawing room of her father’s mansion the morning of her wedding.
She was wearing the gown her mother had worn, and her mother before that and her mother before that in 1957.
Her full-length Victorian-era veil of Brussels lace was even older than the dress. Romi had shown up with it a week ago. And it was the exact same ivory as the gown.
Romi adjusted the veil around Maddie’s face now. “You are so beautiful.”
Maddie couldn’t answer. If she tried to talk, her emotions were going to get the best of her.
“Viktor is going to be here any minute. Are you ready?”
Maddie indicated herself with a wave of her hand and forced an even tone. “What do you think?”
“I already told you, beautiful. But, sweetie, that’s not what I’m talking about. Are you ready?”
“According to Vik, we got married that day we made promises overlooking San Francisco’s skyline.”
“Pffft.” Romi shook her head. “Men.”
“Those promises were vows.” Of that Maddie was very certain.
“So are the words you’re going to speak today.”
Maddie nodded. “I’m ready.”
“You love him.”
“I do.” There was no point in denying it. Besides Romi could always tell when Maddie was lying.
“You always have.”
Maddie wasn’t so sure about that, but she couldn’t deny she’d never fallen in love with anyone else.
“Perry didn’t stand a chance.”
“He didn’t want one.” Their friendship had never been like that.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“No,” Romi said with finality. “It doesn’t.”
Maddie grinned at her sister-by-choice. “I’m getting married today.”
“You are.” Romi grinned back.
Their hug was fierce enough to crush silk and neither of them cared.
The sound of the doorbell came faintly from the hall. Then Vik’s voice and Misha’s laugh.
Oh, this was real. It was happening. Now.
More laughter and then the door to the drawing room swung in and bounced against the wall.
Her six-foot-two distant cousin James, wearing a distinctly masculine tuxedo and tulle veil, stumbled in first. “He figured out I wasn’t you, cuz.”
Maddie found herself laughing along with the others as they came in behind him. The first tradition had been observed. Her father had pretended to offer an alternate “bride” and Vik had shown his determination to only wed one.
Misha, looking dapper in his own tux, and Ana, beautiful in her rose-pink suit, came in behind James. Maddie’s father wore a traditional morning coat and ascot, but Vik was in breath-stealing Armani.
James’s parents were there, too, along with the second cousins who had been at the family engagement dinner. Vik’s aunt, his father’s younger sister by ten years, and her two teenagers had flown in from New York. Frank hadn’t made it.
The cousins from Russia had extended their stay in California, though, so they were here as well.
Enough family to please Misha and Ana’s need for traditions to be observed, Maddie hoped.
But really? As far as she was concerned, no one e
lse mattered, not when Vik came to stand in front of her, his expression hungry, approving and supremely satisfied all at once.
“Ti takAya krasIvaya.” Vik reached out to touch her, but his hand hovered in the air between them, not quite connecting.
“He is telling you that you are beautiful,” Misha informed her.
Maddie nodded her understanding, but couldn’t look away from the intensity in Vik’s espresso gaze.
“I have come to ransom my bride,” he said in formal tones clearly meant for her father, but Vik’s attention never strayed from Maddie.
“Your father tried pawning this one off on us,” Misha said, pointing at James. “But my grandson is too observant to be fooled.”
Because anyone would have mistaken her tall, male cousin for her.
But Maddie laughed because it was supposed to be in fun and she found she enjoyed this Russian tradition very much.
Vik offered an open Tiffany box with a sapphire-studded tiepin and cuff links resting on the cream satin.
Her father accepted it with what sounded like genuine thanks, but then he shook his head. “This is not enough.”
And she knew that was part of the ritual Misha and Ana wanted to see observed.
Misha made a production of arguing the merits of the gentlemen’s jewelry, but Vik never even cracked a smile. His powerful focus was entirely on Maddie and she felt a connection to him that was more spiritual than humorous.
Finally, Misha came between them, offering her another Tiffany box. This one contained a five-strand pearl necklace and perfectly matched pearl studs in a vintage inspired gold setting.
Her gaze flicked between the pearls and Vik and then to Romi, because Maddie’s SBC had convinced her to go without a necklace. “You knew.”
Romi nodded, her brilliant smile watery.
Maddie reached up and removed her mother’s diamond earrings and handed them to Romi, who she now realized had left her own ears bare just for this. It was right that Romi would be wearing something of Helene’s at Maddie’s wedding.
Vik helped Maddie put on the earrings and the necklace, the moment unbearably intimate. When he was done, he bent down and placed a barely there kiss against her lips before carefully dropping her veil back into place.
“Now, there can be a wedding,” Misha said with hearty satisfaction.
