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“But you want a big wedding.”
“Yes.”
“At the church.”
“Naturally.”
“So, we have to set a date.” She knew that only a significant donation to the restoration fund had gotten Maddie and Viktor their wedding date.
“Yes.”
“Your mother wants to help plan the wedding.”
“I am her only child.”
“I haven’t had a mother in six years.” And her dad was in no condition to plan a wedding.
Though she very much wanted him to give her away.
Max cocked his head to one side. “I thought Jenna died when you were three.”
“She did, but Madison’s mom took over. Helene Archer was my mother like Maddie is my sister.”
“By choice.”
“Yes. She loved me.”
“Mama will adore you as well.”
“Chance would be a fine thing.” It was another thing her friend Kim from the U.K. said.
Sometimes those Britishisms were more fitting than anything else she could think to say.
He laughed. The jerk. Was still laughing.
“Stop. It’s not funny.”
“This panic? Is hilarious. My mother will adore you. Madison will be thrilled for you. We will be married.”
“Oh.” She blinked up at him, biting her lower lip. “Maybe you could say it again.”
“We will be married in exactly five weeks, three days.”
“What? You said we were waiting for my dad.”
“He’ll get a day pass and we’ll have a dry reception.”
“You would do that for him?”
Max rolled his eyes. “Where is all this coming from?”
“I don’t know.” The knowledge she was falling deeper and deeper in love every day and he was just as committed today as he’d been a year ago to keeping that emotion out of his repertoire?
Max tugged her into his lap and tilted her face up toward his with a hand under chin. “You are mine, Ramona Grayson. You can’t take that promise back. We will marry in the cathedral and proclaim this truth before our friends and family.”
“Doesn’t sound much like a business arrangement.”
“I am at heart still a Russian man.”
“So, you have a soul even if you are a corporate shark.”
“I thought tsar?” he teased.
“That, too. Maybe they’re the same.”
“Could be. Some of the tsars were known for their bloodthirsty ruthlessness.”
“You are ruthless.” And why that didn’t scare her when the happiness within her grasp did was one of life’s little mysteries.
“But you are in my circle of protection.”
“So, I have nothing to fear from you.”
“No.”
If only that were true. “I love you, Max.”
Sometimes, she just had to say it out loud. Though, come to think of it, this might be the first time she’d said those three little words to him.
The way he stopped moving and talking and just stared at her indicated that might actually be the case. She said, “I do, you know.”
“You did say you couldn’t imagine your life without me in it.”
Which was as good as an admission. “Yes, I did.”
“I will treasure your love.”
“Will you?” How could he if he thought it was a weak emotion.
“It is a gift I will not take for granted.”
“Even if you can’t return it.”
He winced. “Yes.”
“Okay.”
“So, tell your SBC.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
He sealed her promise with his lips.
She returned the kiss with enthusiasm, helping him when nimble masculine fingers began unbuttoning the oversized tie-dyed men’s-style dress shirt worn with her leggings.
His Armani sweater was an easy tug and off, and then there was just the black silk T-shirt, which followed with a ripple of his muscles.
She explored his chest, rubbing her body against his. This was always good. No matter when, how often or what they did together, it was good. Better than good. Incredible.
Their sexual compatibility couldn’t be questioned. So, why couldn’t he take the next step and love her?
If he wanted to know why she didn’t want to have dinner with his mother? Maybe it was because Romi would rather smack the woman for teaching Max to eschew love in favor of pragmatism and carefully cultivated ruthlessness.
He showed that ruthlessness now, teasing Romi to the point of whimpering need, before lifting her and sliding her onto his condom-covered erection. She was on top, but he drove the coupling, thrusting up into her and hitting that spot inside that made fireworks go off inside Romi’s head. He held her hips in place, controlling the depth and angle of his thrusts.
They never broke eye contact through the long minutes of coupling and intense pleasure. She saw the way his skin flushed with the increased blood pressure that came before climax.
He could easily see the way her hair grew damp around her face from perspiration.
Bottomless pools, dark and mysterious, his eyes bored into hers, speaking messages she couldn’t decipher, but that increased her bliss all the same.
She’d learned to appreciate the scent of his desire and even more so their combined musk. It was a heady fragrance that added to her desire, but also her security in their intimacy.
This was theirs alone. No one else combined with him for the exact same perfume of lust.
The way he inhaled deeply showed he enjoyed it just as much.
“My love,” she gasped as her body hovered on the precipice of ultimate pleasure.
That dark gaze flared with something intense and his thrusting grew stronger and erratic.
“You like that word,” she said with wonder.
“On your lips.”
But not on his own. She refused to let that dampen the moment between them.
She simply reveled in the joy of intimacy and how much he clearly liked knowing he owned her heart.
“You are mine,” he said, reflecting her thoughts.
“You are mine, too.” She needed them both to acknowledge that fact.
“Yes.”
She nodded, satisfaction and pleasure warring for supremacy in her heart. “With no expiration date.”
He didn’t
reply, just increased his pace, his expression so intent, it sent shivers throughout her oversensitized body.
With knowing fingers, he shifted her and changed his own angle so his pelvic bone pressed into her pleasure spot on every upward piston of his hips.
Mini explosions of delight accompanied each movement, pleasure spiraling inside until it released in a cataclysm that made her scream and bow her body in shattering ecstasy.
They were cuddled in the bed after their shower, his body an octopus around her like she’d grown accustomed to, her breathing even and shallow as she hovered at the edge of sleep.
“You are mine,” he whispered into her hair. “No expirations.”
It was a huge admission, even if he made it when he thought she’d already fallen under the influence of the sandman.
* * *
Maddie took the news of Romi’s engagement way better than she expected. “I thought there was something between you and that guy.”
“Something big.”
“You love him.”
“I do.”
“It’s catching.”
“So, you finally admitted it to yourself?” Romi asked her SBC.
“I did.” She glowed with the kind of happiness Romi had rarely witnessed in her life. “He loves me, too.”
“Oh, honey. That’s wonderful. I mean I knew it, I just didn’t know he’d admit it so quickly.” Romi ignored the flicker of regret that she couldn’t say the same, her genuine joy for her SBC big enough to cover it easily.
“Yeah, well something happened with my dad.”
“Tell me about it,” Romi demanded.
“He threatened to have me committed…to stop me from taking control of my inheritance from the Madison Trust when I turn twenty-five.”
Romi was shocked. Even Jeremy Archer wasn’t that awful. “That jerk!”
“That’s kind of what I thought.”
Romi experienced a guilty twinge. “I think I know why he made the threat.”
“Why?” Maddie asked.
“Because I asked him about the paperwork you signed that spelled out my dad would get the shares to AIH in the Madison Family Trust once you gained control in a couple of weeks.”
