14. Lucian
14
LUCIAN
“ G abriella packed what you’ll need,” I insist as the limo pulls onto the tarmac of the private airport where I store my jet. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Lucian, I can’t just up and leave. I have responsibilities. Things are just finally getting back to normal after fighting you for how many months now?”
“It’ll be fine. You have loyal captains who understand their responsibilities, and you told me yourself Natasha can handle things just as well as you can.” Besides, with our men properly put in place, things seem to be running a little more smoothly.
“That doesn’t mean she should have to handle things,” Tatiana states coldly, but when I open the car door and slide out to offer her my hand, she still accepts it.
Her expression is grudging—as usual, but I can see the flush of anticipation in her cheeks, the brightness in her eyes when she looks at the small plane. I wonder when she might have taken a vacation last. She doesn’t seem the type to allow herself even an inch of slack, but I want to change that.
At the very least, I owe her a honeymoon after the wedding she was less than thrilled to have. So I want to make this memorable.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks as I settle into the plush white leather chair across from her.
“If I told you, that would ruin the surprise.”
I flash Tatiana a grin as she scowls at me.
“How long is the flight?”
Arching an eyebrow, I remain silent, letting her read into my point that I intend to keep it all a surprise until we get there.
The jet rolls back a moment later, taxiing across the tarmac to the runway. Tatiana’s eyes shift, her attention focusing out the window, and I study her face in the soft light filtering in through the panel.
Her skin is perfect—smooth and creamy and even with a delicate pink to her cheeks and the tip of her refined nose. Her full lips are slightly large for her face, but she leans into the trait, highlighting them with bright red lipsticks that make them all the more appealing. When she’s not scowling at me, Tatiana’s eyebrows have a natural curve to them, giving her an authoritative expression even when she’s not trying to command a room. She’s the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen.
The plane surges as we quickly pick up speed, and Tatiana grasps the arms of her chair, leaning back into it as she takes slow, measured breaths.
“Don’t like flying?” I ask curiously.
“I don’t do it often enough to have a reason to like it,” she states tightly, her delicate nostrils flaring as she takes another deep breath.
“Your family never took vacations?” I’m mildly surprised. It’s not like they didn’t have the wealth to go on luxurious trips.
But Tatiana presses her lips together as she shakes her head. “Papa was kind of a workaholic. When he wasn’t teaching me the family business, he was managing something directly on its behalf. We did go to Moscow when I was younger—to visit family.”
“Hmm. Well, we’ll have to fix that,” I state, my lips curling into a smile.
Tatiana’s blue eyes flick toward mine, fire burning in their depths. I can see the conflict written across her face—the desire to travel warring with her resistance to cooperating with me in any way.
Then she pulls out her phone. “Does the plane have Wi-Fi?” she asks.
“Do you need it to?”
“I should square things away with Natasha if you’re kidnapping me.”
Amusement plays across my lips. “Yes, we have Wi-Fi.”
My wife studiously keeps her nose buried in her phone for the remainder of the flight, stopping only for the meal they serve halfway across the ocean. And as we eat, I can see the tension building in her square shoulders.
“Seriously, how long are we going to be flying?” she demands as she twirls the pasta on her plate for an unnecessary length of time.
Her tone is laced with exasperation, and I know if I don’t give her something, we’re going to end up in an argument. Not that I would mind. The jet has a bedroom in the back—and that’s where we’ll likely end up if we fight. But my plans for her tonight would work better if we don’t jump the gun.
I glance at the time. “We’re just over halfway there,” I say, taking a bite of my meal.
“ Halfway? ” Tatiana slams her silverware down on the table, her expression furious. “Where the hell are you taking me, Lucian?”
“On a vacation. Some of us have the luxury of enjoying those now and again, and I intend to treat my wife to a good time.”
“You are so infuriating!” she hisses.
“For wanting to do something nice?”
“No! For deciding it without asking me. I need to be present in New York right now because my authority is still in question. I need to be there, proving my mettle. And you’re dragging me away like you’re some kind of wonderful husband who cares about me, when we both know that’s not true!” Tatiana’s fingers scrabble over her seat belt and she jerks out of her chair in a huff. “I’m starting to think your plan is to undermine me so you can simply step in and take over my territory after my men reject me as their leader.”
Tatiana storms off toward the back of the plane, slamming the bedroom door behind her. I have half a mind to follow, to engage with her. But for once, I think giving her time to cool off might be the better option. Clearly, the fighting isn’t helping resolve her anger toward me, and the more I push her, the harder she pushes back.
Releasing a sigh, I scrub my forehead and lean my head back against the chair.
Tatiana doesn’t come out until the plane starts to land, and when she does, she’s tight-lipped, the tip of her nose pink like she’s been crying. She avoids my eye, looking out the window instead at the sprawling green and mountainous coastline that makes way for an ancient city.
“Is this…Italy?” she breathes, leaning closer to the window as her curiosity takes over.
“Naples, to be exact. We have a helicopter waiting to take us the rest of the way.” I study her expression, waiting for the shutters to close, the tension of her growing frustration, but all I see is awe as she keeps her eyes fixed on the landscape, the brilliant golden sun shining through the jet’s windows. It gives me a small flicker of hope that I wasn’t completely off base to bring her here.
Her eyes are round and excited for the helicopter ride down the coast, and her discomfort of flying seems to vanish despite the open door that gives her a wide view of the sheer cliffs, the colorful houses built in layers up the steep, mountainous Amalfi coast. And when the helicopter swoops in toward the tiny town of Positano, Tatiana’s expression is full of unspoken anticipation.
The chopper’s propellers slowly die down as we come to rest on the rooftop of the small villa I’ve rented, and Dominic jumps out to take the bags inside as I help Tatiana down. Her expression is guarded when she finally meets my eye, and I know—even if the surprise was a good one, she’s still not ready to let me in. To let go of her anger.
Her hand withdraws from mine as soon as her feet are steady on the ground, and she silently leads the way into our temporary accommodations.
“This is Positano,” I say. “I figured we could enjoy an evening in tonight. I hired a private chef for the duration of our stay, and perhaps we can explore the town tomorrow?—”
“How long do you intend to keep me here?” Tatiana asks, her tone brusque as she cuts me off.
Her body language is closed off as she walks through the open space of the luxury apartment toward the wall of windows that looks out at the ocean and the swiftly dying light as the sun dips into the water. We have a wide balcony with a wrought iron railing that does little to obscure the magnificent view. Sighing, I follow her outside, sliding the glass door closed behind me to give us a modicum of privacy.
Closing the distance between us, I cup Tatiana’s cheeks with my palms, forcing her to look at me. “We should at least stay a few days—through the weekend—then I’ll take you back home if you want.”
Grabbing my wrists, she pushes my hands away. “Let’s get something clear right now, okay? I let you fuck me because that was the deal I made to save my sister’s life—to stop the fighting between our families. But that doesn’t mean we’re ever going to be some happy couple who’s in love.” Tears shimmer along her thick lashes, threatening to spill from her eyes as her temper rises. “You killed my father—a man I loved and respected more than anyone in the world. I hate you, and as far as I’m concerned, what you did is unforgivable. So just cut the romantic crap and start treating this like what it actually is—an arranged marriage that I’ll endure to protect my people. Nothing more.”
For weeks, I’ve tried to climb the impenetrable wall Tatiana has put up against me, but every time I think I might have found a way, she proves me wrong, and I’m starting to think nothing I do will remove the distance between us.
I’ve never had a close relationship—my parents never did either. But I crave the connection. I’m drawn toward Tatiana’s passion, and I thought that, in time, it might melt the frigid coldness that’s so prominent in our world of arranged marriages.
But the cold fire in her eyes as Tatiana takes a step back tells me my efforts are wasted.
More than that, she’s finally put into words the exact depth of the chasm separating us.
What I did was unforgivable. While I deluded myself into thinking I was setting her free, I killed a man that meant more to her than I could possibly understand. From my perspective, Boris was an impossible obstacle to get around, a problem that needed to be solved—a barrier that needed to be removed. But now that he’s gone, now that his blood is on my hands, I see the reality of what I’ve done.
And I don’t stand a chance.
I crushed any possibility that Tatiana might ever love me the night I condemned her father to death.