“It’s a, ‘Tell me when I’ll be your wife, Maxim.’”
“How about tomorrow?”
“What?!”
“Ever since the bath… my mind’s been racing. Thinking about it. I don’t want to wait.”
“That’s because you want me so much. You cockblocked yourself.”
“You underestimate the power you have over me, Victoria. And I didn’t cockblock myself. I set your worth as higher than someone to fuck.
“I want my wife. I’ll wait as long as you want to. We can have a second, larger ceremony if you choose, but our lives have been public fodder in one way or another for years. This can be purely ours. Our secret.”
“Our secret,” she echoes, and I know that ensnares her. “I agree only if you let Shay be my witness.”
My lips curve. “I had Vlad remain behind in Poughkeepsie so that he could bring Seamus to New York City if you agreed.”
“This is crazy,” she declares, but her laugh screams her delight.
“Goodcrazy?”
“Brilliantcrazy. When?”
“Tonight, tomorrow, Sunday. Whenever.”
“Tomorrow. At our house.”
Our house.Fuck, what those two words do to me.
I dip my chin. “Agreed.”
A squeal escapes her and she lifts her arms for me. “I can’t move without tearing this goddamn dress I picked to drive you insane! Come and kiss me!”
Feeling freer than I have in a long time, I surge onto the seat beside her, careful not to wreck her dress, her hair, or her makeup, and hold her as close as we can in our current circumstances.
“Ugh, there’s too much space between us.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever spoken wiser words.” I press my lips to hers and seal our agreement. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife.”
When she laughs, my heart soars at how happy she sounds. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my husband.” She cups my chin. “I didn’t know when I was younger that, looking at you, I’d feel so complete. Everything about you gets me, Maxim. I know there’ll be ups and downs, I do, and I’m pretty sure they’ll come sooner rather than later because of the Veronians, but?—”
“That’s a problem for another day,kotik. And definitely not tomorrow.” I nuzzle my nose against hers because I figure that has the least makeup on it.
She runs her fingers over my jaw. “I can’t wait for you to be mine.”
I snatch that same gloved hand and hold it flat out so I can slide a ring on her finger. “It matches the set you’re wearing. Yekaterina Alekseyevna Romanova last wore this set?—”
“All of it?” she butts in.
“Yes.”
“Did you steal it from a museum?”
Amused that she always thinks the worst of me, I drawl, “If I had, do you think I’d let you wear it out in public?”
“True.”
Trust Victoria to look disappointed.
