“I’ve been making arrangements.” Pulling together a prenup? He sat beside me. “You’ve probably dreamed of a certain kind of wedding, not a courthouse ceremony, but we will host a celebration for our families once we’ve settled in.”
“Settled in?” Oh, fuck me. He was planning to take me to the motherland! “In Russia?”
“No, in California. We have an estate on the northern coast.”
We have. Wait, California? Oh, come on! My dream location. Lady Luck seemed to be smiling down on me.
He tucked a curl behind my ear. “I would never expect you to live far from your family. The flight there is only a little over an hour by jet.”
“Just hold on a second. I need to talk to you about all this—”
“Here.” He pulled a ring box from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. “Perhaps this will make up for the abruptness of everything.”
The weight sent a tremor through me. “This ring box is heavy,” I said, secretly narrating. I opened the lid and sucked in a breath.
Monster rock . . . jackpot . . . don’t scream, don’t scream!
“Dmitri, it’s unreal. This marquise diamond must be . . . fifteen carats.” The band was platinum, my favorite! “How did you get a ring like this so quickly?” That was where he’d been!
“I have ways. Do you like it? We can get you another—”
“NO.” Monster rock MINE.
“I’m pleased you approve. I also sent one of my men to collect your bag and lock up your apartment. The car remains. Perhaps your family would like to use it? I will get you another one.” Another? He took my hand and stood. “Come, they’re ready.”
So soon? “Where’s the paperwork? Surely a prenup will take some time.”
He frowned. “We have no need of that.”
“Pardon?”
“I intend to make you happy in our marriage. What’s mine will become yours, and you will never make me regret trusting you with all that I have.”
My brain exploded. I could make five hundred million dollars in the next ten minutes. If I were an awful person.
But the threat to my family . . .
I wished I could just nibble enough to save my parents; why did Dmitri have to force me into this major commitment?
Think, think! What would my sister do? Karin would be on her honeymoon by now. “Your brothers and everyone will think I’m a gold digger.” They would make him get this annulled. He’d plead insanity or something.
“My family wants us to be happily married.” Dmitri looked so trusting, and I was so . . . rotten.
“Don’t you want them to be here?”
“At present, I have some matters to resolve with them. It’s not important. What’s important is you. What does your instinct tell you?”
No prenup? “That you’re too good to be true, big guy.” All my life I’d wondered how people could be so stupid as to get grifted. If something seems too good to be true, it motherfucking is, idiots.
“I’m not,” he said. “There are things . . . issues I need you to face with me. We will prevail; we will be happy.”
Issues? How vague. But could they possibly be worse than the cartel’s threat of a burning tire?
“And when I make you my wife, you will be looked after no matter what might happen to me.”
Happen to him? Freaked out, I cried, “Are you dying?”
His tone was almost amused when he said, “No, moy ángel. But I want you to be a Sevastyan. It will make everything easier.”
Victoria Sevastyan. Get the hell out! “This move would put us both firmly in the crazy camp. I don’t know anything about you.”
“I was born to make you happy. To protect you. Marry me, and I will free you. I will give you the entire goddamned world.”
Free me? “You don’t know anything about me either!”
“Do I not? I have identified the most beautiful, intelligent, talented female I will ever meet. Added to that, she is a wanton who makes my body burn.” My cheeks flushed; my family was hearing this. “I will never find her equal. Why would I not want to secure her for my own?”
He sounded so logical. Where was the knee-jerk angst of before?
Dmitri cupped my face. “You said when you look at me a spell comes over you. Let it. Because I feel the same way when I look at you, and I’ve given myself up to it. Just surrender.”
My eyes pricked with tears. Real ones. I blurted out, “I don’t love you.” I could imagine my family gazing heavenward. Silly little Vice, gumming up the works.
Dmitri canted his head, trying to read my expression. “Could you?”
As I considered his question, moments and impressions played in my mind. . . .
His teasing tone as I’d ogled his ass. The way I fit on his lap. My protectiveness toward him. The connection I felt when he drew my forehead to his. How he’d beheld my body as if it were a gift he’d treasure forever. His touch. His kiss.
I told him the truth: “Yes. I could.”
He offered me his hand. Cuts remained across his palms from his nails. Because he’d fought to hold out last night. To keep his promise to me.
How could I not take that hand?
His eyes lightened to gold. “You’re going to be my wife, aren’t you?” His lips curled. His first half-smile.
My heart thudded. And. I. Was. Done.
In front of the justice of the peace, I fidgeted.