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Dear, God.
His back is a work of perfection. Strength ripples beneath his skin, and his shoulders are broad, giving me the impression he can carry the weight of the world on them.
The mafia-related tattoos on the back of his hands only add to how hot he looks.
Armani switches the lights off, and I turn onto my side, snuggling into the pillow where I can smell his lingering scent.
Surely Armani can have any woman he wants. Why did he agree to an arranged marriage with me?
I can hear him moving in the living room, so I climb out of bed and walk to the doorway. He’s standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring into the dark night.
“Armani?”
He turns his head. “Yeah?”
“Why did you agree to marry me?” I ask the very important question.
I hear him inhale deeply before exhaling, then he walks toward me. He stops close to me, enough that I can smell his body wash and cologne.
Don’t stare at his chest. Eyes on his face.
It’s not easy meeting his intense gaze as he finally answers, “There was a moment we were in shit, and Misha asked me to take care of you should anything happen to him.”
So it was a heat-of-the-moment kind of promise?
“Did you know anything about me?”
He shakes his head. “Not much. After I made the promise, Misha told me about your time in the orphanage.”
He only knows the worst part of my past. That sucks.
“Isn’t there another woman you’d rather marry?” My teeth worry my bottom lip, then I add, “Someone you love?”
Again he shakes his head. “I’m a man of my word, Tiana. I never break a promise.”
I let out a sigh. “You might not have a choice. If Mr. Vetrov gives me to Karlin, you’ll be free from your promise.”
Instead of commenting on my statement, he whispers, “Get some sleep, bella.”
Armani’s phone starts to ring, and it tears his attention away from me. He walks to where the device is lying on the coffee table and says, “It’s Misha!”
I rush closer while Armani answers, “Fucking finally, brother.” There’s a moment’s silence, then he says, “Yeah, she’s here. I’m putting you on speaker.”
A second later, I hear Misha’s voice. “Tiana?”
Tears jump to my eyes as intense relief fills me. “I’m here.”
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
“Honestly?” Armani gives me a compassionate look, and I can’t keep the tears from falling. “I’m scared, Misha. I hate asking this of you, but please come to St. Monarch’s.” A sob fills my throat, and my words are strained as I whimper, “I don’t know what to do.”
Armani wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me against his bare chest.
“We’re at the airport. The flight leaves in an hour, but it’s a thirty-hour trip,” Misha informs us. “Just stay with Armani.”
I nod even though Misha can’t see me.
“Brother,” Misha says to address Armani, “Don’t leave her alone. Don’t allow Makarova close to my sister.”
“Don’t worry,” Armani answers, “They’ll have to pry her from my dead arms.”
Jesus.
I tilt my head back to look up at Armani’s face, and seeing the dark expression, filled with rage and violence, I’m not afraid, unlike the times before.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Misha mutters, sounding tired and upset. “Did Luca say what time the meeting is?”
“No. Once they get here, I’ll tell them you’re on your way. I’m sure they’ll wait.”
“I’m going to call Viktor quickly. If I can get ahead of this shitstorm, we might not need to have the fucking meeting.”
“That’s a good idea.” Armani gently rubs his hand up and down my back, avoiding the lower part where I’m hurt. “Let me know how the conversation goes.”
“Will do.”
“Tiana,” Misha says, concern making his voice rough, “There’s no way you’re marrying that fucker. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thank you, Misha,” I mumble from where I’m still pressed to Armani’s chest. “I’m sorry I ruined your honeymoon.”
“Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”
The call ends, but Armani doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he drops the phone on the couch and wraps me up in a tight hug.
“You’re going to be okay,” he whispers.
I nod, my cheek rubbing against his warm skin.
God, it feels incredible to have his arms around me.
We stand still for a minute or so before he pushes me back. “Go to bed. You need your rest for what’s to come.”
Letting out an exhausted sigh, I walk to the bedroom and climb back into his bed.
Clinging to the pillow with my eyes locked on the doorway, I must admit I feel a little better now that I know Misha is on his way.
It gives me more hope that I’ll marry Armani instead of Karlin.
God, please.
I wonder what it will be like to be Armani’s wife. I think he’ll be supportive, and our home life will be as calm as he is.
