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The man, who likes to wake up early, prefers coffee, and likes home-cooked meals.

The enforcer, who has an eerie control over his temper and emotions.

My soon-to-be husband.

Entering his suite, Armani tugs me to stand in front of him. His eyes lock with mine, and it feels like he’s searching my soul for something.

“Do you feel better?”

I nod quickly, then point to the bedroom. “Should I pack your belongings?”

He shakes his head, and lifting his hand to cup my cheek, his expression turns tender. “We’re engaged, bella. That doesn’t mean you’re my slave.”

With our eyes locked, he begins to lean down. My heart jumps to my throat, and I stop breathing. It feels like all my blood rushes to my head.

Ever so softly, Armani presses his lips to mine. Even though it’s only for a moment, the kiss scrambles my thoughts and leaves me completely breathless.

It’s so intense my stomach erupts in a kaleidoscope of butterflies, and I swear it feels like the sun is shining in the room. Everything is bright and warm.

Lifting his head, a smile plays around his mouth. “La mia bellissima fidanzata.”

Before I can ask what it means, he translates, “My beautiful fiancée.” His hand moves to rest at the back of my neck. “I thought I’d get the first kiss out of the way so you’ll feel more comfortable with me. Once we’re home, I’ll give you an engagement ring.”

This man is so sweet.

“I feel comfortable with you. Thank you for all the effort you’re making.” Unable to be selfish any longer, I ask, “Are you okay with the arrangement?”

He pulls his hand away from me as he nods. “Yes.” I notice a flash of worry in his eyes, then he adds, “We’ll take our time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Is he asking me to be patient with him?

I can do that. I’ll give him as much time and space as he needs.

My lips curve up in an empathetic smile. “Yes, there’s no rush. We have a lifetime to get to know each other.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead, then walks toward the bedroom. “As soon as I’m done packing, we’re leaving.”

I follow him to the walk-in closet and insist, “Let me help. I’ll feel awkward just standing around while you pack.”

This time, Armani nods, and as we get to work, the atmosphere between us feels different. I can’t place what the change is and assume it’s because we’re engaged, and Armani needs time to adjust to it.

Chapter 16

Tiana

On our flight to Russia, all the anxiousness bubbled back into my chest.

I don’t know if Mr. Aslanhov will be home when I collect my things, and I have no idea how Mrs. Aslanhov will react to the news that I’m marrying Armani.

When I let us into the house, the atmosphere is quiet. Armani sticks to my side as we walk to the kitchen, where we find Mrs. Aslanhov washing dishes.

“Hi, Mama,” I say to get her attention.

She spins around, water and suds flying through the air. “You startled me!” Her gaze locks on Armani, then she frowns. “Who’s this?”

“Armani De Santis. He’s a good friend of Misha and Alek’s, and…” I swallow hard, “my fiancé.”

Confusion washes over her features. “But you’re to be engaged to Mr. Makarova. What’s going on?”

“Mr. Vetrov changed the arrangements. I’m to marry Armani,” I explain. “I’m sure Papa will tell you everything once he gets home.”

“Tsk!” She shakes her head as she dries her hands on a dishcloth. “You know we’re never told anything.”

True.

“I asked Mr. Vetrov to allow me to marry Armani. Misha already arranged a marriage between us before the deal was made with Karlin,” I explain.

Mrs. Aslanhov looks at Armani with narrowed eyes.

He steps forward, holding his hand out to her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Aslanhov.”

“Humphf.” She shakes his hand but doesn’t look happy. “I suppose if Mr. Vetrov issued the order, we’ll just have to abide by it.”

“Armani is a good man.” I give her a pleading look. “I’ll be happier with him.”

She lets out a sigh as she looks at me. “Happiness has nothing to do with a good marriage.” Walking to the fridge, she starts to take out vegetables and meat. “Will you be staying for dinner, Mr. De Santis?”

“No.” Armani takes my hand again. “We’re here to collect Tiana’s belongings. I need to get home.”

Shock flutters over Mrs. Aslanhov’s face, but she doesn’t argue. “If that’s the case,” she waves a hand to the doorway, “let’s pack your things.”

Looking up at Armani, I ask, “Do you mind waiting here? I’ll be as quick as possible.”

“Take your time.”

I watch as he takes a seat at the kitchen table before I rush after Mrs. Aslanhov.

I find her in the corridor, where she’s pulling two worn bags from the closet.

“Let me help.” I take one from her and go to my room.

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