Page 115 of The Arrangement

“Twice this morning,” she reminded him, getting heated just at the memory. “Are you even going to have the energy left for tonight?”

“Are you questioning my more than proven stamina?”

The lift of his brow had her smirking before his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot on her thigh and began tickling. Viviana squealed, failing miserably to get out of his prison-like hold. Once she’d begged and pleaded enough, his evil hand left the confines of her pants to skim back up to her flat stomach.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Did Sergei show up?”

Anton shook his head. “Not yet. I’m thinking he won’t, which I prefer.”

The wedding invitation had been offered to the Jersey Pakhan as a truce of sorts. Viviana knew Anton hadn’t wanted to offer it at all, but it didn’t look good on him to keep bad blood going. Repeated attempts for a sit-down had also been offered, which weren’t refused, but they also weren’t accepted.

Anton wanted an apology and so did Sergei. Viviana was afraid it might lead to something bad later if peace wasn’t made soon.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anton added quietly. “What day is this, Vine?”

She furrowed her brow, confused. “December twentieth?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing. “But, it’s our day. I can see your worries in your eyes, so stop it.”

Conceding with a sigh, she balefully stared at the dress again. “It should look perfect.”

“It will. You’re goddamn beautiful, huh? Like nobody else. There isn’t a soul who gives any care about the marks on your skin, and who gives a shit if they do. You’re mine, anyway, baby. So while everybody’s looking at you, you’re looking at me. And I’m looking back. That’s what they see the most.”

His hand on her back pushed her upward. On her feet, sweatpants were tugged down until they dropped to the floor. The silky camisole took the same path. With a smug grin, he helped her put the garter resting on top of the dress all the way up her thigh. It wasn’t long before the ivory lace was in his grasp, too, falling down like a heavy sheet over her frame, hugging every inch.

The capped sleeves covered her shoulders, but her collarbones and neck were on display. Inlaid pearls had the lace bunched up just under her breasts. Lace spilled like rushing waves. His skillful fingers worked the few pearl buttons where they clasped together at the small of her back, and Viviana shivered when his hand skimmed all the way up her naked spine with a burning intent.

“Almost done,” he said, all quiet and dark in her ear.

All of her hair had been pinned up into a simple, easy to manage up-do. The partial veil that hung off the mirror was plucked up in his hand and placed. Pins were carefully hidden so they wouldn’t be seen. The ivory trim of the headpiece rested just above her nose, keeping her eyes shadowed by the partial veil.

Her painted red lips curved with a smile as his fingers skimmed along the line of her jaw. Makeup had been so meticulously applied, giving her eyes a darker appearance and her cheeks a rosy glow.

“Crazy beautiful. Where are the shoes?”

“Beside the bed,” Viviana replied, not even wanting to say no, now.

A second later he was back, shoes placed at her feet. “I’ll be right back. I have to get something before I forget.”

Viviana nodded dumbly, going about resting her backside on the bed as she tugged on heels that would likely be the death of her before the night was out. By the time she managed to pull the deathtraps on, Anton was back with a silver case in hand. Immediately, she recognized it as the second case Richard had brought along with the engagement rings. The case that hadn’t been opened.

“So, I have to go and get ready,” Anton informed her. “Or someone—namely Sasha—is going to start screaming bloody murder.”

Viviana laughed. She felt a whole hell of a lot better, now, anyway.

“Thank you for coming in here and calming me down.”

“I love you, Viviana. Even when you’re being ridiculous.”

A kiss was placed on her cheek, her body lighting up all over again at the gesture.

“Tonight,” he promised. “Or as soon as I can get you into the coat room.”

“That’s terrible.”

“You fucking love it.”

She wasn’t even going to deny it.