Page 44 of The Pakhan’s Unwanted Bride

Focus, you bastard.

"Breathe steadily. Don't hold your breath." My voice is low, quiet. "Exhale slowly as you squeeze the trigger. Don't jerk it."

I step back slightly, giving her space but staying close enough to correct her form if needed. "Fire when ready."

The shot goes wide, missing the target completely.

"Again. Remember what I said about breathing."

She adjusts, fires again. This one hits the outer ring of the target.

"Better. Keep your shoulders relaxed."

We work through the magazine, each shot getting closer to center. I watch her focus intensify, her body adjusting to the weapon's recoil, her confidence building with each round.

When she finally hits dead center, she turns with a brilliant smile and throws her arms around me. I know it wasn't planned, that it was her genuine reaction to being successful, but damn if it doesn't send shockwaves through my body! It doesn't last long, maybe three seconds, but it's long enough that I have to discreetly adjust myself when she steps back, color rising high on her cheeks.

"Sorry. I just… I've never hit center before."

"Don't apologize." My voice comes out a little too rough. "You did good."

The moment hangs between us, charged with the same electricity that's been building since that first kiss in my office. Neither of us moves. Neither of us looks away.

Then my phone rings, shattering whatever was forming.

It's Gregory. "When are you coming back to the estate? I thought we should go over final security plans for the wedding."

Right. The wedding. The reason Ana's here in the first place.

"On my way."

The drive back is quiet. Ana sits beside me in the passenger seat, and I'm hyperaware of every small movement she makes. When she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, I want to knock her hand away and replace it with my own. When she nibbles nervously on her bottom lip, it's all I can do to stifle a groan.

Holy fuck, I've got it bad!

At the estate, Gregory is waiting with detailed security plans spread across the dining room table. Although it's a small gathering, I don't want to take any chances. Especially since there was an attempt on Ivan's life. I won't have my bride or her father assassinated at our wedding.

"Walk me through it," I tell Gregory.

We spend the next hour going over every detail until we're both satisfied.

"After the wedding," Gregory says slowly, "will Princess Anastasia be moving into your private wing?"

I frown slightly. What an odd question. But then, we never really discussed it. If he'd asked me this a week ago, I would have said hell no. But now… "I suppose so."

"Will household staff report directly to her for domestic matters?"

"Yes."

Gregory nods, making notes. But there's something in his voice, a seriousness that feels like more than just logistics.

"You planning to tell me what's really on your mind?" I ask.

He looks up, and for a moment I see the boy I took in all those years ago. Uncertain, and trying to hide vulnerability behind professionalism.

"Just want to make sure everything's handled properly," he says. "This is a big change. For everyone."

There's weight behind those words, but before I can push, he's already moving on to the next security checkpoint.