Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Maksim
Inever expected my bride to be crying on our wedding day.
The problem is: I’m a little tipsy. I had a few beers before coming here, just to take the edge off, and now I’m regretting it because I’m finding it hard to stay upright. Ok. So maybe I had more than a few beers. I might have gotten drunk.
My father was pissed at me and forced me to take a cold shower to take the edge off. He forced down coffee and anything else that would help soak up the alcohol in me.
Natasha, to her credit, is very beautiful. I had been expecting a plain woman – or at worse someone ugly. But Natasha is pretty with golden hair and freckles that are cute. She looks like something out of a fairytale. How has this woman been kept locked away all her life? It doesn’t make sense.
But now she’s crying and I have no fucking clue how to deal with this.
The priest opens and closes his mouth, just as unsure as I am.
I look over at my father, who mouths ‘do something’ to me. Do what? I’ve never comforted a crying woman before. The women I’ve spent time with in the past have always been smiling. Mostly that’s because we were fucking and having fun.
This moment is most decidedly not fun.
“Uh… Natasha?” I ask. I wince when I realize how slurred my words sound. I really did drink more than I should have. This day is important. We’re trying to stop a war from happening. I should never have gotten drunk right before this.
Natasha only cries harder.
Her father storms over to her side and says something in her ear. Something that even I can’t hear. Then he sits back down and looks at her like he expects her to listen.
Natasha slowly gets control of her tears but even after she stops crying, she doesn’t look happy.
I guess neither one of us wants to be here.
Thank god. I was worried that Natasha would be happy about this day and I would disappoint her.
But the fact that she doesn’t want this either means she won’t care that I’m drunk. Less chance of fucking this up.
“Are you… ok?” I ask. Even though I don’t want this marriage, I’m not going to be a complete ass to Natasha. Neither one of us wants this.
“Fine,” she replies in a clipped tone. “Let’s get this over with.”
I frown. I said that just a moment ago. I hadn’t realized she heard me.
The priest hesitates before I nod and he begins the ceremony. I stare down at Natasha, trying to get a read on her but since I’m meeting her for the first time, I know nothing about her.
“Do you, Maksim Petrov, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
The question hits me in the gut. The urge to say ‘no’ is on my lips but I know I have to do this. Lev is looking at me like he might kill me if I don’t marry his daughter. Hell, my own father is giving me the same look.
Kira gives me an encouraging nod, even though she knows I don’t want this.
Fine. Here goes nothing.
“I do,” I say.
Natasha gasps and looks at me more closely, like she didn’t expect me to say that. I try to offer her a smile but I’m not sure it comes out right. Being drunk right now is not helping.
“And do you, Natasha Sokolov, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Slowly, she nods. “I do.” I can barely hear her from how quiet she speaks.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”
But neither me nor Natasha move to do that. There’s an awkward beat where the guests chuckle. My father motions at me to kiss Natasha. I have to do this.
I cup her face and she looks up at me with big, innocent eyes. I’m just lucky she’s pretty.
Bending down, I give her a peck on the lips before pulling back. Natasha’s expression is unreadable.
Our guests cheer for us. Have of them are Lev’s people – who were once the enemy but now we’re all friends. This marriage confirms that.
I take Natasha’s hand and we walk out of the chapel together as our guests clap for us, when this not a happy affair for either me or Natasha.
Our fathers follow us.
“Good,” Lev says. “You’re married now. This pact is binding. Do not hurt my daughter.”
I can only nod.
My father turns to me. “Make me proud, Maksim.”
“Yes,” I reply because what else is there to say?
The two men walk away, chatting with each other, leaving me and Natasha alone. Our other guests begin to spill out of the chapel.
“So, you didn’t want this either, huh?” I ask.
Natasha startles. “What?” Once again, she speaks so softly, it’s hard to hear her.
“You didn’t want this. Judging from your tears. But it’s ok. I didn’t want this marriage to happen either. We have that in common at least.”
She pulls her hand from mine. “Oh. Ok.” Why does she sound disappointed by this? It’s a good thing we have this common. We can bond over it. But Natasha only seems more withdrawn and sad.
“I’m sorry that I’m… a little tipsy,” I admit. “I had to do something to help. You know?”
“You were drinking?”
“Yes. Like I said. I’m sorry about that.”
“Oh. Ok.” She doesn’t say anything more. God, she’s hard to read. The only thing that is obvious is that she’s sad but I don’t know anything else.
“Right,” I say slowly. “We should probably head to the reception.” I nod at the hotel next to the chapel.
“All our guests are going over there now. I think our fathers will expect us to be there.” I rub the back of my neck when she doesn’t say a word.
I normally never have a problem talking with women.
I can charm the panties off them within minutes.
But not the woman I’m married to.
“Your father seems just as stern as mine is,” I say. “Another thing we have in common.”
That finally breaks her out of her shell and she looks up at me. “Your father is stern?”
“Yes. A hard ass. Yours?”
Instead of agreeing with me, she quickly shakes her head. “My father is a good man. I’m not going to talk bad about him.”
My mouth drops open. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She ducks her chin again and refuses to look me in the eye. What is wrong with this girl?
“Are you ok?” I ask. “I mean, you cried in there. Why?”
“It’s nothing. Just nerves. Overwhelmed. We should go to the reception now. We have to make an appearance.” She begins walking without looking back at me.
I quickly catch up to her and we walk side by side as if we’ve been together for years when we’ve only just met today. There’s an icy chill between us though, like a large cavern I don’t know how to cross.
Our guests cheer for us when we enter the hotel’s ballroom where the reception is. It’s been beautifully decorated and the nice thing is I didn’t have to do a thing.
“Nice job on the decorations,” I tell her. “My father said you planned the wedding. Thanks for that.”
“I didn’t plan it. My father did.”
“Oh. My mistake. Well, he did a good job. But hey, at least neither one of us had to plan a wedding we didn’t want. Right?”
Her frown deepens. “I would have liked to have planned my own wedding.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It seems I can’t say anything right.
“We should probably dance,” I say. “My father expects it.”
“Mine too.”
I offer her my hand and slowly, she takes it. Since I’m still a little drunk, I’m not exactly smooth on the dance floor. I pull Natasha into my arms and I’ll admit, she feels nice here. Warm and fits into the nooks of my body perfectly.
It’s obvious she doesn’t know how to dance as we stumble across the floor. She keeps stepping on my feet and the fact that I’m drunk isn’t helping matters. I end up stepping on her dress and it makes both of us stumble forward. She falls to the ground before I can catch her.
Our guests watch us, no one commenting, but it’s obvious from all of their expressions that they’re embarrassed for us.
I help Natasha back to her feet but she pulls away from me before we can start dancing again.
“I think we should stop,” she whispers. It’s hard to hear her voice above the music of the band.
“I didn’t mean to step on your dress. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t have shown up drunk then.” She doesn’t snap at me. Doesn’t scream. Just tells me this calmly before she heads over to our table.
I blink, stunned, before a deep shame fills me. Natasha is right: I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve embarrassed both of us on our wedding day when this day is all about ensuring peace. I should have been better.
Natasha and I don’t say a word for the rest of the evening.
Our guests look like they’re having fun as they dance around.
Kira ends up on the dance floor, moving around like crazy, until our father gently grabs her arm and leads her away.
She may be his precious daughter but he doesn’t want her making a fool out of herself.
Kira eventually comes over to our table. “Hi.” She gives Natasha a huge, genuine smile. “I’m Kira, Maksim’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.”
Natasha blinks before she nods at Kira. “You too. I didn’t know Maksim had a sister.” There’s an unspoken sentence between us: Natasha doesn’t know anything about me and I know nothing about her.
“Well, I’m the best,” Kira announces. “I know we’re going to be friends. I can just feel it. You don’t have to worry being around my brother. He’s a big softy at heart. Trust me.”
Natasha’s eyes flick to mine. “Oh. That’s good to know.” For just a moment, Natasha seems to soften…
Until her father comes over to our table. “Who are you?” he asks Kira in a rude tone.
Kira bristles. She’s used to having people worship the ground she walks on. “Maksim’s sister.”
“I saw you on the dance floor. I don’t appreciate a woman who dances like that.
My Natasha never has and never will be like that.
” He sets his eyes onto me. “And you. I can smell the alcohol reeking off you. You should be ashamed showing up to the wedding like this. You’re lucky I already agreed to marry you to my daughter.
But never embarrass me like this again.” He holds his hand out to Natasha. “It’s time for our dance.”
Natasha quickly gets to her feet and takes her father’s hand. I watch as they go onto the dance floor. She didn’t hesitate to go to him but it didn’t seem like it was out of love. No. It seemed like it was out of… fear.
“God, he’s an asshole,” Kira mutters.
“Careful,” I murmur back. “Don’t let Lev hear you. I can’t ruin this peace deal.”
“Poor girl.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Maksim? She’s terrified of him and now she has to marry a man she’s never met and you show up drunk. You couldn’t even give her the courtesy to show up to your wedding day sober. Why do you think she cried?” Kira shakes her head at me like I’m hopeless.
And I guess I am because I know nothing about the woman I married but I’m starting to find out that things may be a lot more complicated than I realized.