7. Konstantin
KONSTANTIN
T he second we stepped into the cabin, Tatiana’s eyes landed on the priest with Boris and Nikita by his side.
It was hard to miss a Russian Orthodox priest in their elaborate priest clothing. Why he needed to parade in those clothes, I had no idea. No matter though. The only thing that mattered was that he was here and he’d perform the service.
“No, Illias.” Tatiana’s eyes stayed glued on the priest while shaking her head. “No, no, no.” Then her gaze darted my way. The shocked expression in her eyes didn’t sit right with me, but I still intended to proceed with it. “Absolutely not. I mean it, Illias. We’re over.”
Gripping her chin, I pulled her closer to me. “You and I, moya luna … We’ll never be over.”
I closed the distance and sealed my words with a fleeting kiss. Her body was tense but her mouth molded to mine. Her response to me was exhilarating. I’d never understood addiction until I crossed paths with this woman.
“You can start the ceremony,” I told the priest. “As soon as you wed us, one of my men will take you back to your rectory.”
“And the check?”
A sardonic breath left me. The priests loved their checks. “And the check.”
His eyes flickered to the bride-to-be. “Do you wish to change into a wedding dress?”
“Fuck no,” Tatiana hissed, glaring at him. “Are you deaf? I’m not marrying him.”
The priest chuckled. He heard her but he didn’t care. “With that little bun in the oven, you have to marry. You don’t want your baby burning in hell, do you?”
Tatiana’s eyes flashed like blue flames and she took a step towards the priest. “Married or not, my child will not burn in hell,” she hissed, glowering. “But you might, if you don’t take those words back.”
“The Bible says–”
“That’s enough,” I cut the bullshit. “Tatiana there is a dress in the back of the cabin.” My eyes traveled over her. She looked beautiful in her dress, but I wanted her to have a special dress for this day.
She folded her arms in front of her chest, pushing her boobs up. “I’m not putting it on.”
“Either you put it on yourself or I will put it on you,” I said coldly. Her jaw clenched and daggers shot from her eyes. If expressions could kill, I’d be dead. “Think of your brothers as you change. If you refuse to marry me for our child, do it for your brothers.”
I’d make her mine . Both the mother and child. This was where we should have been seven years ago. I could see her pulse beat quickly, her eyes stubborn on me. I took a step forward and wrapped my hand around her slender neck.
“Last time, Tatiana. Don’t fucking push me. Go put that dress on or I’m going to do it for you. And I won’t be so nice about it.”
“That is not how you treat your baby mama,” she retorted in a boring tone, but at least her feet started moving towards the back of the cabin where the bedroom was. At least she admitted she was pregnant. Baby mama .
It sounded fucking perfect.
“Two minutes, then I’m coming to help you,” I drawled after her. She flipped me a middle finger over her shoulder, then shut the door of the bedroom.
“The bride seems willing,” the priest remarked.
I gave him a cold look, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. More money. Greedy motherfuckers.
“How much?” I asked in a chilled tone.
“Two hundred thousand.” Motherfucker. That made his check four hundred thousand just to read a few paragraphs from some scripture and proclaim us as husband and wife. The door from the back of the cabin opened and I swore she stole my fucking breath.
My gaze coasted over her long, blonde hair, smooth pale skin, and ruby red lips. There was even a hint of a smile there. Her hands smoothed down over the soft silk threads of her dress.
“It’s the Oscar de la Renta,” she murmured softly, her eyes lowering to the dress as if she wanted to ensure it was real. The dress fit her perfectly. It was elegant but simple. Yet, unforgettable.
The strapless dress was made of white, Italian silk faille and delicate silk poppy buds that cascaded across the bodice and skirt. Individual petals and stamens lifted up and off the dress here and there to add dimension, while the strapless top resembled a full scalloped flower.
“The material is so soft and elegant.” Her voice was almost reverent and my lips curved. Tatiana Nikolaev had expensive taste. One just had to look at her.
“I thought you’d like it.” She rolled her eyes, but her smile was still there as she kept touching the fabric. “Now, let’s get married. I’m eager to get to the wedding night.”
I watched red creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. Fuck, it was such a turn on to see her blush. It’d never get old. But the look she gave me told me I wouldn’t like her next words.
“I don’t want to get married.” The stubborn tilt of her chin was cute.
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t,” she argued back. “I refuse to be a pawn in your schemes against my brothers.”
I let out a sardonic breath, hating that she wasn’t excited about marrying me as I was about marrying her. I had been dreaming about it for over seven fucking years. I had a priest. She had a wedding dress. We’d get married if I had to speak the words for her.
“Firstly, you and pawn don’t belong in the same sentence.”
“I agree,” she muttered under her breath.
The woman certainly knew her worth. “Secondly, you can marry me willingly. Right here. Right now. Or I could phone one of my men and tell them to pull the trigger they currently have aimed at one of your family members.”
“You motherfuck–”
“Watch how you finish that,” I drawled. “Now, which path do you want to take?”
Lightning flashed in her blue eyes. “Let’s get one thing straight, Illias.
” Determination crossed her expression, her attention on me.
“You want me to marry you, fine. You’re the Pakhan.
” Before I could even relish in the sensation of victory, she shut it down.
“However, let’s not forget one thing. Actually several things.
” I cocked an eyebrow. Tatiana had some balls on her, I’d give her that.
“It seems to me, I have greater power than you do currently, Mr. Pakhan.”
Her sassy mouth needed some punishment and my dick immediately took over while images flashed through my mind. Tatiana naked on my bed, on her knees, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes. It sent a rush of heat to my groin and made my ears buzz with adrenaline.
“And what’s that?”
Tatiana’s eyes were filled with defiance, her pulse in the vein on her neck throbbing. I wanted to wrap my hand around her neck and feel her pulse on my fingers. See her eyes haze over with lust. Maybe with love one day.
“I have the chip,” she reminded me.
“Except you don’t know where it is?” I remarked. “Unless you do know.”
She waved her hand, dismissing me. “Minor obstacle. I’ll eventually find it. And don’t forget, I’m the pregnant one here. Not you.” God, this woman. She’d cost me my sanity. “Without me, no baby and no chip. Seems to me, you should do what I say.”
“Tatiana,” I warned in a low voice.
“However, I do realize there are benefits to marrying you. You can provide safety from the Yakuza.” She paused and dread washed over me. “And I want you to tell me who killed Adrian.”
“What makes you think I know?” I questioned her calmly.
“A lucky guess,” she remarked. “I want to know what happened.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she wasn’t a meek woman. Regardless of what she went through, she came out stronger than ever before.
“Vasili warned me not to share information with you,” I lied. I didn’t feel guilty. If I told her, she’d rather take this plane down than marry me. “Your doctors indicated you have to remember on your own terms.”
It was a semi-truth. Vasili didn’t say jack crap, but I obtained her therapist's notes. It was clear that Tatiana’s memories from that night were too traumatic to recall. She’d remember them when she was ready.
“That’s bullshit.”
I shrugged. “Doctor’s orders. And your brother’s.”
She scoffed, letting out a frustrated breath. “Like you listen to either one of those.”
“When it’s time to remember, I’ll help you through it,” I told her seriously. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” Surprise flashed in those eyes of pale sapphire skies. “Now, no more delays.”
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “Fine,” she muttered.
She lifted her dress, revealing her red Christian Louboutin pumps. Fuck, it was kind of sexy seeing red pumps under that white dress. It wasn’t planned, I was so focused on wedding rings and the priest that I fucking forgot the shoes.
“You forgot to buy the matching shoes,” she hissed, then stepped over to the front of the plane. And the whole time the priest looked back and forth, almost amused. I bet he’d come up with another few hundred thousand to add to the price tag.
The moment she was within my reach, I wrapped my arm around her slim waist and pulled her chest-to-chest with me.
Her eyes flashed with defiance and I swore I got a hard on.
There was no doubt our marriage would be lots of push and some pull, but we’d always meet in the middle. She’d be mine and I’d be hers.
My eyes bore into hers, getting lost in those depths and my heart thundered under my chest.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered under her breath.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m yours. There’s some crazy carnal possession lurking in your eyes. I’m nobody’s possession.”
My lips curved. “Fine then, I’ll be your possession.” But she’d be mine too; she just didn’t know it.
Without glancing at the priest, I ordered, “Start.”
The priest’s thick Russian accent filled the cabin as he started to talk about marriage and the value of vows. I bent my head down, my lips brushing against Tatiana’s lips.