Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Morning, beautiful,” he says in that sleepy-sexy growl. “Are you alright?”
I turn to face him, tucking my head into the warm space of his neck. Here, I feel protected… but for the first time, I realize this is what I’ve been fighting for, this is what I’ve wanted. To belong. For someone to choose me as much as I choose them.
And I mean it. The weeks of confusion, pain, and uncertainty, even as I was falling in love with my would-be husband, were worth it, every damn second, so I could revel in the bliss of being reunited.
“Never been better.”
His strong hand cups my ass as I nestle in. “I smell coffee.”
“Mmm,” I murmur with a sleepy sigh. “Sounds delicious, but… I don’t want to see anyone right now.”
“Hell no. Me neither. I’ll get us some.”
I sigh. “I’d rather skip morning coffee than have you leave right now.”
His phone dings with a text. Without letting me go, he reaches over and checks it.
“Hot damn. Zoya brought us up breakfast and coffee. Thought we could use some alone time.”
“You need to buy that girl a pony.”
“A pony?”
“Yeah. Or like… I don’t know. A Camaro. Private island? Something. She deserves it for putting up with you all these years, then pulling her weight like a boss when we were attacked, and just everything.”
He kisses my cheek. I stare up at him.
“You have no idea how much it means to me that you love them too.”
I think of my brothers and smile at him. “Actually, I think that I do. Once you and Mikhail get over your pissing matches, you might even find out you get along.”
He smirks. God, I love it when he smirks. “We have no choice after the wedding, so that sounds like an excellent idea.”
We eat a simple breakfast of warm, buttered muffins and strong, hot coffee. I wipe butter off his chin, and he nibbles a crumb off my lip. We kiss, and soon, we’re tangled in the sheets all over again.
“We have to stop this,” he says with a teasing smile. “We have work to do.”
“Fine,” I say with a belabored sigh. “Any word on Soloto?”
“He’s been sighted on his way back to Colombia.”
“Good riddance,” I say with a shake of my head, but he quirks a brow at me.
“You really don’t think we’d let him go unpunished? After all this? Hell, Polina, even if he hadn’t done what he did, the fact that he came after you is enough to sign his death warrant.”
I swallow hard.
We. He said we.
He means his family and my brothers.
And yes, we’re talking about the undoubtedly painful and merciless death of a man, but Soloto is a tyrant who will stop at nothing, I reason. If we don’t end him, he’ll only set his sights on another vulnerable target or double his efforts to retaliate against us and the destruction we brought to his men.
I nod. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I do know that.” I lean back against the pillows, my belly and my heart full. “Do you have any preferences about wedding ceremonies?”
His eyes shine at me. “Yes, very much so.”
“Oh?”
“I want you in my sights every second until we take our vows.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“Nope,” he says with a possessive growl that makes me giggle. “That’s not all.”
“What else?”
“I want you to have everything you want. Whatever flowers or cake, dances or favors, venue or songs. It doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is that you have what you want.”
“Why’s that?” I ask teasingly, tracing my finger along his jaw.
Rafail leans in and kisses my cheek before pulling back and sliding his hand under my chin. “Because, my love. I want this to be a wedding that you never, ever forget.”
Epilogue
Epilogue:
POLINA
I tap the floor nervously as the soft hum of music floats through the grand hall but I hardly notice it.
My heartbeat thrums in my chest, steady and sure, as I step into the aisle. At the far end, Rafail waits, his presence commanding, his dark suit fitting him perfectly, his expression calm yet unyielding. His eyes, though—those eyes—are fixed on me, holding a warmth that no one else sees.
He’s all I see for long moments. I’m not used to seeing him fidgeting or looking nervous.
Beside me, my brother Mikhail stands solid as ever, his arm linked with mine. His reassuring strength boosters me. “You’re ready, Polina?” he murmurs, his deep voice low.
I nod, my lips curving into a small smile. “I am.”
We step forward together. The hall quiets as every gaze turns to us, but I barely notice. My focus is on Rafail.
My husband.
It’s strange to think we’ll make it official now.
My fingers tighten slightly around the bouquet of flowers as I move closer, closer, until the world narrows to just him. Mikhail places my hand in Rafail’s with a sigh I’m not sure he means to release, and I feel the familiar steadiness of Rafail’s touch. His fingers close around mine, warm and sure.