His Promised Bride (BRATVA’S Arranged Brides #2)

Aidan

Liam is looking out of the window when I enter his office. Killian sits with one foot propped on his knee, scrolling on his phone.

I narrow my eyes.

“Why are you here?” I ask Killian, then it dawns on me.

It’s my turn.

"So," he says, turning from the window and setting an empty glass on the desk between us. "As you know, the council's enforcing marriages on all of the Orlovs."

"I'm aware." I say this with a flat affect, because it’s true. Killian was made to marry Katya not eight weeks ago, and our cousin Anton was recently made to marry his wife, Kira. “I guess it’s my turn next,” I add with a sigh.

He leans back in his chair and studies me.

"You don't seem that bothered," Liam says.

"I suppose I’m not. It’s not like I didn’t know it was coming…"

"Most men would be. Being told you have to take a wife isn't exactly a casual Tuesday, Aidan,” Killian says, dropping his foot to the floor and leaning forward.

I slide my hands into my pockets. I’m the only one of us still standing, but I prefer it that way when I’m negotiating. "I have a condition."

Both brothers raise their eyebrows. "A condition?” Liam asks as Killian sputters out a choked sound. “For the council?”

I hold up my hand to silence Killian before he even starts. They both might be older than me, but I can hold myself in a physical fight against either of them.

"For whoever needs to hear it." I shrug. "If I'm doing this, there's only one woman I'll accept."

Liam goes still. He already knows the name before I say it.

"Tanya Savitskaya," I say.

He exhales slowly. "Fuck."

Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. "That's not the reaction I was hoping for. I thought you’d be pleased I wasn’t fighting you on this like some others we both know."

I swing my gaze to Killian in challenge. Everyone knows how pissed he was to be marrying Katya, not that you’d know it now with how utterly obsessed he is with her.

"It's the only reaction that makes sense.

" He scrubs a hand over his jaw and looks at me the way he does when he's trying to figure out how much I've already decided versus how much room there is to talk me out of it.

The answer is none. There's no room. There hasn't been room since the night I touched her, and she rearranged every standard I thought I had.

"Aidan. She's Savitsky's daughter. She's cold as ice and twice as sharp, and every man who's tried to get close to her has walked away with frostbite."

An unfamiliar anger rises up my spine and I clench my jaw tight. "I know what she is."

"Do you? Because from the outside, she looks like a woman who wants nothing to do with this life. With any of it. Especially us."

I take a slow, deep breath in a bid to calm myself. Picking a fight with my brother doesn’t feel like the right thing to do at this very moment in time, even if my knuckles are itching to make contact with his nose. "She looks that way because that's what she wants people to see."

Liam pauses.

"You know something," he says. It's not a question.

I know everything. I know that two years ago, at a function in Prague, Tanya Savitskaya walked up to me at the hotel bar after midnight and ordered a drink she didn't finish.

I know that she looked at me with those cool grey eyes and spoke to me like I was the only person in the room who didn't bore her.

I know that when I touched the small of her back as I walked her to the elevator, she didn't flinch. She leaned in.

I know what she sounds like when she stops hiding.

I know what she tastes like when there's no one watching.

And I know that the next morning, she was gone before I woke up, and she's looked straight through me at every function since, like that night never happened.

It happened.

"I know enough," I tell Liam.

He searches my face for a long moment, then shakes his head with something that's halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "How long have you been sitting on this?"

"A while." He doesn’t need to know the details. Doesn’t need to know how there’s been no one since her. How no one else could ever measure up.

"And you're sure?" Killian jumps in with this. “I honestly thought you were going to kick off…”

"I was sure before the council made their announcement. This just gives me a legitimate reason to stop waiting."

Liam picks up his drink again. Takes a slow sip. Sets it down. "She's going to fight it. You know that. Not publicly…she's too smart for that. But she'll find ways to make you feel like you're holding an icicle instead of a wife."

"Fine." Another shrug. I know what to expect with Tanya.

"Fine?" Liam asks. I can tell his is stuck between relief that I’m not fighting the mandate, and surprise.

"I've held her when she wasn't ice, Liam. I know what's underneath it. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since that night."

That stops him. I watch the understanding land; the moment he connects the pieces and realizes this isn't theoretical. This isn't a man with a preference. This is a man who's already had her and spent two years thinking about nothing else.

"When?" he asks quietly.

"Prague."

"Two years ago, Prague? The Dubovich summit?"

I nod once.

He blows out a breath. "And she just…what? Pretended it didn't happen?"

"She pretended it didn't matter. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Yes." I weigh up how much I should tell him, then decide he might as well know it all. "She went to that bar on purpose. She chose me on purpose. And she left before morning on purpose. Tanya doesn't do anything without a reason."

"So, what was the reason?" Killian asks.

I set the glass down. "She was trying to make herself worthless."

Liam frowns. "What?"

"Eldest virgin daughter of Alber Savitsky. Prime commodity in an arranged match. She knew the council would come calling eventually, and she decided to remove herself from the board."

Understanding dawns across his face. "She slept with you to — "

"To ruin herself. To make sure no traditional family would want her."

"Jesus,” Killian whistles.

I smirk. "Except she didn't count on one thing."

"Which is?"

I look at my brother and let him see exactly what lives behind the quiet.

"I don't care that she's not a virgin. I care that I'm the reason she isn't."

Liam stares at me. Then he laughs, disbelieving. "You're terrifying. You know that, right?"

"I've been told."

"And you think the council will approve the match? A Savitsky daughter to the Irish branch of the Orlovs?"

"The council wants stability. The Savitsky’s want an alliance that keeps them inside the power structure. And Tanya needs a husband who won't try to make her into something she's not." I lean forward. "I'm the only option that works for everyone."

"Convenient," Liam says drily.

"Strategic," I correct.

He shakes his head again, but this time there's something like respect in it. Maybe resignation. He knows me well enough to understand that when I've decided, the conversation is already over.

"Fine," he says. "I'll back you with the family. But Aidan, if she says no — "

"She won't say no. She'll say yes and hate herself for it. And then I’ll make her realize there's nothing to hate."

"Because you're such a catch?" Killian deadpans.

"Because I'm the man she chose to ruin her."

Liam shakes his head from side to side. "I give it a week before she tries to poison you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He grins. That easy, dangerous Liam grin that means he's about to say something he thinks is funny, and I'll think is irritating.

"Don't fuck this up. I'm not explaining to Ma why you got your heart broken by a Russian ice queen."

I don't smile. But something shifts in my chest. Something that's been wound tight for two years and is now, finally, starting to loosen.

"I won't," I say.

I've waited too long to get this wrong.