Chapter 23
Dmitri
As expected, no one is happy about me refusing to set a wedding date. No one but me.
Annika’s father gave me an earful about how I was breaking his little girl’s heart by delaying her dream wedding. I only got him to back off by promising to only postpone making plans for a month so that I can finish a big shipment for my business. He still wasn’t thrilled.
The vor v zakone jumped down my throat about dragging my feet and pressured me to get my shit in order and marry Annika before she and her father slipped away.
They never miss a chance to remind me I’m not doing the job my father would’ve done.
It’s all petty, manipulative bullshit, but I don’t budge. Setting a date has been pushed back at least a month, and that’s final. I’m not getting married to that selfish heiress any sooner than I have to. But there’s something I promised to do to appease everyone’s worries.
“Where are we going?” Cara asks when we pile into the backseat of one of my SUVs.
“I have an inappropriate errand I need your help with,” I tell her.
“Ooh. Sex toy shopping?” she guesses as she sits on the far-left side.
I roll my eyes as a smirk forms on my lips. Things are tense between us, but she still shows up every morning ready to dive into whatever needs to be done for the day. I can count on her, and that means a lot more than I can explain.
Even to myself.
Ever since Cara showed up late to work, I watch the clock tick closer to nine each morning, my heart racing in fear that she won’t show, that she’ll have had enough of me and say to hell with her job.
“I need to pick out a suit for the wedding,” I say, watching her amused expression fizzle away. “I shouldn’t ask that of you, but I need another pair of eyes. I have to get this done before Annika cuts my throat in my sleep for the delay.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Cara replies as she crosses her legs and smooths her skirt down on her thighs. “I’ll help you pick out the best suit.”
“Thank you,” I tell her genuinely.
Cara nods and gazes out of the window as my driver takes us to one of the best luxury menswear shops in the city.
It’s impossible not to think about the man who should be here with me, assisting with all the wedding planning. My best man telling me to pull my head out of my ass, that I already gave my word, so I have to suck it up and go through with the marriage now.
I should be searching for Mikhail’s killers instead of picking out a suit. I thought the men I first sent to investigate his disappearance were just lazy, but there’s no trace of him left behind. One day he was in Vegas, wheeling and dealing real estate deals, then the next he was gone.
I feel trapped. Frozen. Like I’ll never move forward from his death until I find whoever is responsible.
Taking over for him before avenging his death feels like a betrayal.
So much so that having an affair with my assistant before I agree to marry another woman even seems rather insignificant.
Would Mikail have agreed to the Suyunov alliance? No, as Pakhan, he never bowed down to the pressure from a bunch of old men. He was loyal, he kept his promises, but he didn’t let anyone tell him how to live his life.
“We’re here, sir,” my driver says.
I was so lost in my head that I didn’t even realize that we had stopped.
I get out of the SUV and meet Cara on the sidewalk before heading into the shop.
There’s time for me to be fitted for an expensive Italian custom suit, but I don’t think the occasion is worth the trouble.
Annika isn’t worth the hassle. Knowing she’ll be disappointed I bought off-the-rack is even more reason to do so.
“Are you looking for anything specific?” Cara asks me.
“Annika told me not to get anything too eye-catching. She doesn’t want me to overshadow her at the wedding,” I tell Cara as we start walking through the racks of different styles and different colored suits and fabrics.
Cara can’t stop herself from laughing. “Oh, of course. Can’t steal her spotlight.”
The side of my mouth turns up, amusement flickering in my chest. “As if anyone cares what the groom is wearing.”
“She probably doesn’t want you drawing any attention from other women, too,” Cara points out before stopping in front of a rack of black tux jackets. She flips through them, inspecting the different styles.
“She told me specifically not to invite you to the wedding,” I say as I check the next rack, our shoulders briefly grazing.
Cara shakes her head, but she doesn’t look surprised or bothered. “She really doesn’t like me.”
“She’s threatened by you. Probably for good reason,” I reply as my eyes do a brief sweep of her figure. Per usual, she looks incredible. Hard to resist.
Cara purposely bumps her shoulder against mine. “Well, I’m not a threat. Not when you’re engaged.”
“There hasn’t been an official proposal. I never gave her a ring. This is just business between families,” I remind her before pulling out a black suit jacket. “What about this one?”
Cara wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “It looks more like something you would wear to a dinner party.”
I put it back on the rack and keep looking. “No feelings would get hurt if you and I were involved before the ceremony.”
“Annika would stab us both in our sleep,” Cara tells me before pulling a suit jacket off the rack. “What about this one? It’s formal.”
“Too old-fashioned,” I reply with a shake of my head.
Cara puts it back before turning to me. “I’m still flattered, though.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I turn to face her. “Oh, really? Just flattered?”
Cara smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, just flattered.”
Such a damn tease. This woman is going to be the death of me.
“You didn’t seem just flattered when I put you on my desk,” I reply as I turn my attention back to the jackets. Less than half of my attention is truly devoted to that task, though.
“You caught me off guard. It was cheating,” Cara says before pulling another option off her rack. “Classic. Black. How about this one?”
I take a look at it, my eyes roaming over the details. It’s pricey for being so simple, but I can’t go wrong with a classic suit. “I’ll try it on. We need to find all the other pieces first.”
With a nod, Cara follows me around the store to pick up all the accessories to complete a wedding look. A tie. Vest. Handkerchief. Even as I grab everything that I need, this still doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like I’m truly getting ready for my wedding.
“You keep zoning out,” Cara comments, making me realize that I’ve been staring at the same white shirt for a few minutes now.
“Just trying to come to terms with everything,” I reply before grabbing my size and heading to the dressing room. “I’ll need your help in a minute.”
Cara stops out in the hallway where all the dressing rooms are located.
I head inside the one at the very end of the hallway and catch sight of my frown in the three mirrors.
I pull on each piece of the suit, finishing up with the bow tie that takes me three attempts to tie. With a frustrated huff, I drop my hands and stare at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing myself.
I’ve killed for my family. I’ve almost died for them too.
Yet, this feels like the biggest sacrifice.
“Come in here, Cara,” I tell her.
She opens the door and steps inside, her eyebrows rising as she catches sight of my reflection in the mirrors. “Wow, it looks great. Your bow tie is a little crooked, though.”
“I’m more familiar with ties. Do you know how to tie these?” I ask her as I turn to face her.
Cara hesitates for a moment, but she nods before stepping closer to me. She lifts up on her toes and undoes my bow tie, her chest almost touching mine as she leans close. Her vanilla-and-cinnamon scent nearly brings me to my knees.
I watch her intently, the way her eyes slightly narrow in concentration and how her lips purse. When she’s not thinking too hard, she can be so expressive, even when she’s doing the littlest things. Most of the time, she doesn’t fully project her emotions or thoughts, though.
Like she’s holding them back.
“Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” Cara admits as she carefully twists and ties the black silk.
“When was the last time?” I ask her.
Cara pauses for a moment, her eyes growing distant as she thinks to herself. “I learned to tie my father’s bow tie for a funeral. He’s old-fashioned like that.”
I frown. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know much about her family or her past or what she does even when she’s not at work. She always seems available whenever I need her, whether that’s early in the morning or late at night.
Gabe did report to me that Cara was having an argument with a friend on the phone, but I didn’t bring it up to her because I don’t want her to know that Gabe feeds me updates.
I shouldn’t even care, but I want to know her more. We spend so much time together that it feels wrong for her to be so mysterious to me.
“It was a while ago,” Cara assures me as she continues. She then folds down my collar and adjusts the bow tie one more time. “There. Done.”
“Thank you.”
Cara smiles up at me and nods as she fixes the lapel of my suit. “You make a very enticing groom.”
I smirk, my eyes not leaving hers. “Not enticing enough, huh?”
Cara’s teeth catch her bottom lip in a subtle bite. It’s almost too fast to see, but the image is ingrained in my mind now. When she doesn’t answer, my pulse spikes, and I can see the want in her eyes as well.
We’ve been in this situation before. Enclosed in a dressing room. I wanted to kiss her back then, but I didn’t. I don’t think I can let myself make the same mistake again.
I gently cup her chin in my fingers and tilt her head back. Her eyes immediately flutter shut as my lips press against hers. I feel her hands grip my arms, but she doesn’t push me away. She holds me close as we melt into each other.
Cara parts her lips, her tongue teasingly brushing mine.
Heat coils low in my gut as I taste her, my mind threatening to go haywire. Kissing her is like coming up for air, and I can’t get enough of finally being able to breathe again.
Cara wraps her arms around my neck as our kiss deepens, her fingers teasing the hair on the back of my neck.
I grab her waist and push her up against the dressing room mirror, coaxing a quiet gasp from her. I revel in the sound, desire thrumming through me.
Cara drops her head back against the mirror as my lips trail along her jaw and down her neck. She pushes her fingers into my hair, her lips parting in bliss as I kiss all the sensitive spots that I can find. “Dmitri…”
My name on her lips will always drive me crazy. How can she make a single word sound so good? So enticing.
I slide my hands up her sides, my thumbs teasing the swell of her breasts through her shirt. I kiss the base of her throat and move lower toward her cleavage that she always puts on display for me. I’m not blind to her tactics.
Before I can reach where I want, Cara pushes at my shoulders, making me break away from her. She breathes in deeply and gives me a pointed look. “We can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to become the paid-by-the-hour whore Annika thinks I am!”
The word hits harder than it should before she hurries out of the dressing room, slamming the door shut behind her.
She tries to deny what she wants. What I want. But every time we’re alone, the truth cracks through.
When is she going to stop fighting what’s already between us?