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“That’s your paperwork now,” Jericho said. “As soon as you sign it, you’re my daughter. The daughter of the pakhan of Russian bratva.”
“But you can say no to the marriage,” LeBlanc told me, almost as if he wanted me to reject this man.
I looked at my dad, my coach, and the man who was asking for my hand.
But why was he asking? Why not Sophie Tudor, the famous songstress who was more in his league? Was it just for an alliance? Sure, he wanted me. Lusted after me. But that wouldn’t last. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that physical chemistry would hold us together.
Did he love me? The answer rang in my head, low and sad. No. He doesn’t.
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling a fluttering in my chest. Was that a disappointment?
Alastair’s brow furrowed. He got up from his knee and stepped closer to me.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered in my ear. His breath was warm, sweet, and sent a shiver down my spine. “Rose Marie, talk to me.”
“Are you proposing just for an alliance?” I asked. “Did you… do you…”
Love me? That was the rest of the question. But I couldn’t ask.
He cupped my face and kissed me. Gently. Sweetly. No tongue. No invasion. Just lips on lips.
“I’m proposing because you look ravishing in red.” He leaned in and kissed the space in front of my right ear. “Making you submit to me is the greatest aphrodisiac.” Then he went to the other ear. “Watching you fight is a fantasy come true.” Then he kissed my nose. “And you inspire music in my soul.”
He leaned his forehead into mine. I could look up at him and see all the shades in his blue eyes. Like the colors of the sky and the sea on a clear day.
“I’m a man who would shed his blood for you,” He said. “And you are a woman who would shed blood for me.” He kissed the tip of my ring finger. The one he had claimed. “Do you know how beautiful and rare that is, love?” He then leaned in again, whispering in my ear, “Or must I fuck you in the blood of our enemies for you to believe me?”
Heat ran up my spine, and I straightened. Had he read my mind?
“Sounds unsanitary,” I quipped. But I was waiting for more. Three words. Just three simple, monosyllabic words.
He cupped my face in his hands and leaned back, our noses a hair’s breadth apart. He stared at my face, reading my expression.
“I see what you need,” he said, his lip tilted up in one corner. “I love you. And I never want anyone else. Can you say the same?”
“Yes,” I breathed. I didn’t know what I was saying, but I knew what I said to be true.
“Yes?” He asked, his brow creasing, searching my expression again for any clues as to what was going on in my head.
“I’ll marry you,” I said.
I didn’t want him to be with Sophie, or any other girl. I wanted him with me. And there was no man, or woman, in the world that I could want more than him.
“You’re sure?” He questioned, looking at my eyes for any hint of hesitation.
“If I don’t, you’ll find other ways to make me submit,” I whispered to him, biting my lower lip.
That made him grin. He kissed me full on the mouth. Teeth, tongues wrestled. Our arms were pulling, tugging to be closer.
“Fuck,” Jericho said with an exasperated sigh. “I was hoping she’d say no. Are you sure you don’t prefer women?”
“It’s okay,” LeBlanc comforted Jericho as Alastair and I continued to kiss. “Sure, there’s no divorce, but if he pisses her off, she could murder him with impunity.”
