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I don’t want anyone to die for me or kill for me. Full stop, period. And that means I can’t have my brothers rescue me… especially if that rescue means Alexei will come after Nikolai’s son again. In fact, now that I’m thinking more clearly, I realize I wouldn’t be able to run even if an opportunity presented itself.
Two days ago, I made a bargain with Alexei, promising him that I would come with him and honor our betrothal if he called off his men and let Slava live in peace with Nikolai and his new wife. I didn’t have much choice when I made that bargain, but that doesn’t change the fact that I gave my word—or that the consequences for going back on it could be dire.
There’s only one way forward, only one way for me to seize any control over my fate.
I tear my eyes away from Alexei’s phone and meet his coolly amused gaze. “So,” I say calmly, even as my stomach turns inside out. “Do you have everything ready for the wedding? I’d like it to take place today.”
Chapter 2
Alexei
My pulse accelerates, and only my decade of experience negotiating business deals with ruthless rivals enables me to conceal my shock. She wants to marry me? Now? Today?
But no. As I look deeper into those jade eyes of hers, I see the truth.
My Alinyonok hasn’t decided to come around and accept me. On the contrary—this is a new ploy, a way to welsh on our bargain while honoring it on paper. The wedding won’t mean anything to her. As soon as our vows are said, she’ll seek a way to escape.
I laugh, and even to my ears, it’s a cold, harsh sound. There’s nothing funny about this, but laughing is better than the alternative: grabbing her and using my mouth to wipe that blood-red lipstick off her lips before bearing her down onto the hard wood of the deck and fucking her right here and now, for anyone to see. She’d fight me if I were to do that. She’d fight me, and I wouldn’t care. Now that I’ve had her, now that I’ve tasted her, all I want is more. More of her taste, her touch, her sweet orange-blossom scent. More of her tight, wet pussy wrapped around my cock, squeezing it, milking it in the throes of her orgasm.
I’ve lived with this craving for over a decade, but it’s infinitely sharper now, almost unbearably so.
At my laughter, she draws back, her eyes flaring minutely before her chin rises in that defiant way of hers. Unlike me, she doesn’t hide her feelings well. Not from me, at least. Maybe to others, Alina Molotova seems mysterious and remote, a high-society princess existing beyond the comprehension of mere mortals, but to me, she’s an open book. I know how fragile she is underneath that beautiful, haughty façade, how volatile her emotions are.
If she’d let me, I’d shield her from everyone and everything, herself included. But first, I have to get through to her, destroy her illusion that she doesn’t need anyone. Because she does.
She needs me, and I’ll make her realize it, even if it takes another decade.
“Why, yes,” I say, cocking an eyebrow. “We’ll hold the wedding right after breakfast.”
She blanches. It’s subtle, the way her porcelain skin turns even paler, her slender neck tensing, but I see it, just like I see everything about her. She wants to throw me off balance, but she’s chosen the wrong way to go about it. I will gladly marry her today, right here on the yacht. A big society wedding was never in the cards for us, given how her family feels about mine—and how badly my father wants a large ceremony.
It would’ve been his last hurrah, his final chance to show off our power and wealth before the cancer that’s destroyed his pancreas devours him completely.
It’s an opportunity I’m glad to deny him.
“Right after breakfast?” Alina asks in a choked voice, and I nod with a sardonic smile.
I wasn’t planning to marry her so quickly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the advantages.
“There are a few white dresses in your closet,” I say as she stares at me, her cat-like eyes filled with a turmoil she can’t hide. “You can change into one of them.”
She scoffs, regaining some of her composure. “While you wear that?” She gestures at my casual clothes.
“I will change as well, don’t worry.” Like her, I have a closet here full of clothes for every occasion.
“I don’t care what you wear,” she says sharply. “And I’m not going to wear white. This is not that kind of wedding.”
“Oh? What kind of wedding do you think it is?” I close the small distance between us and cup her jaw. “You were a virgin until yesterday, so white is exactly right, wouldn’t you say, my beauty?”
