Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Holly
We talked about Egypt for a little while, but I had a lot to drink and was starting to get sleepy.
The last thing I remember is Viktor lifting me—carrying me in his arms like a groom—and gently putting me to bed.
He didn’t undress me, merely laid me on the bed and covered me with half the blanket.
I woke up tangled in it, still wearing my wedding dress and the uncomfortable strapless bra I’d had on since yesterday morning.
I sit up rubbing my eyes.
Ugh. My mascara undoubtedly is smeared all over my face.
The bedroom door is closed and the hotel room is quiet so I go into the bathroom and strip down. I step under the hot spray of water and close my eyes.
I’m Mrs. Viktor Maslak.
There’s a little more than seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my bank account, thanks to Viktor’s transfer. I paid off the loan shark I’d borrowed money from and saved my grandmother’s farm. Along with the bird sanctuary she loved so much.
But at what cost?
I scrub the makeup from my face, wash my hair, and then stand there a while longer, letting the conditioner do its job on my hair.
With my hands flat on the wall, I drop my head and try to breathe.
It’s not the first time I’ve panicked about this contract I’ve entered into, but it’s real now.
It’s not what I’m going to do—I’ve already done it.
I’m married. To a Russian professional hockey player.
One of the elite goalies in the league. With deep-set green eyes, dark hair, and abs that would normally make my mouth water.
He’s handsome, though not my usual type—I’ve always been partial to blonds, for some reason, but Viktor is handsome in a rugged, laid-back way.
The playoff beard he’s been growing hides his chiseled jaw, but it’s his eyes that stand out to me.
When he looks at me, sometimes it’s like he can see right inside my soul, and it’s a little trippy.
We haven’t spent a lot of time together because he’s in the middle of the playoffs and he needs to focus. Rest. Keep his head in the game.
But that’s going to end now.
We have to spend all our time together when he isn’t busy with hockey. Days. Nights. Meals. Everything. We’re about to move in together.
It’s anxiety-inducing on one hand, but soothing on the other.
Because that’s who Viktor is.
He’s a solid presence without being overbearing.
From the moment we decided to get married, he’s been steadfast and reliable.
He had his attorney draw up the prenup and had it forwarded to my attorney without me even having to ask.
And he wired me the first million dollars within hours of me signing.
A million dollars.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to pay someone for the privilege of getting married.
I pull on jeans and a cute top. High-heeled boots. The incredible engagement and wedding rings he bought me.
“You are now NHL wife,” he said quietly. “You must have big ring or people will know this is not real.”
I was uncomfortable at first but it’s gorgeous—a four-carat princess cut pink diamond set in platinum. My wedding band is also platinum, with a row of diamonds. His is black titanium with our names engraved on the inside—exactly what he said he wanted—and it’s striking.
We’re leaving in a few hours so I do my hair and put on light makeup. Then I pack up my toiletries, put everything in my suitcase, and zip it up. Our forty-eight hours in Vegas are almost over. Time to face reality.
I walk out into the living room and find him dressed, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Breakfast come while you are in shower,” he says, almost apologetically. “You say you do not eat in the morning?”
I told him that, and it’s true.
“As long as there’s coffee,” I say with a smile.
He nods and pours me a cup. I take it gratefully and then sit down on the couch, right where we sat last night.
“Uh, thank you for putting me to bed,” I say. “I guess I drank more than I thought.”
He smiles. “Is okay. I sleep good too.”
We’re quiet for a little while, and it’s interesting because it doesn’t feel awkward. We’re just two people trying to sort out a complicated situation. Nothing more, nothing less.
“You are always quiet?” he asks after a bit.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m pretty extroverted, but…I guess I don’t know what to say to a husband I barely know.”
“We must not be so…cold when we are around others.”
“I know.”
“Maybe we practice.” He turns to me, a question in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
He holds out his hand. “We can hold hands. This will…” He scowls and opens his phone, types something in, and waits. “It will desensitize us. So touching is more natural.”
“Oh. Okay.”
That sounds smart.
And holding hands is no big deal.
I reach out my hand and he wraps his around it. It’s warm and firm, a little calloused. Like a man who uses his hands.
For a moment, I wonder what, exactly, he uses his hands for outside of hockey. Are they gentle? Is he a fighter? Does he bite his nails? So many things I don’t know about my husband. Things I’m going to figure out, I guess.
And we just sit there, hands linked between us, sipping coffee.
Sweet Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?
This whole thing seems ludicrous.
Before I can stop myself, I start to snicker.
“Holding the hands—this is funny?”
“No.” I bite my lip. “It’s just…what are we doing? We’re married and we have to practice holding hands! It’s like we’re in kindergarten or something.” I snort and start to giggle again.
Viktor chuckles. “Yes, this is strange.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m still laughing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Stress.” He smiles. “I understand.”
“I’m not usually a giggler.”
He shrugs. “Is okay. You are cute.”
Cute?
Did my new husband just call me cute?
And why does that make me happy?
A knock on the door breaks the spell and I watch as Viktor walks across the room to open it. Kelly.
Ugh.
She doesn’t like me.
She’s like big sister and bodyguard, all rolled into one. The person he trusts the most, from what I can tell. They have a bond that goes beyond the fact that she speaks Russian, and a tiny part of me understands that I have to win her over if we’re going to get through this unscathed.
“Are you packed?” she asks casually, coming inside and avoiding my eyes.
“We will be ready soon,” he says.
She glances at me. “Good morning.”
It’s cold. Sharp. More threat than greeting.
I swallow down my annoyance and try to keep my voice neutral. “Good morning.”
“We will meet in lobby,” Viktor says. I don’t know whether he senses the animosity and is trying to diffuse it, or if he’s just practical and impatient.
“I thought we could have breakfast,” she says.
“We have eaten,” he says, even though that’s only partly true. He motions to the tray on the table.
“Right.” Kelly nods stiffly. “All right then. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
She leaves and Viktor mumbles something under his breath.
“She hates me,” I say softly.
He shakes his head. “No. She is worried about me. Afraid we will hurt each other.”
“Why would we hurt each other?” I ask curiously.
His eyes meet mine. “Because we…” He stops, shaking his head. Then holds up a finger, indicating I need to wait. He talks into his phone, presses something and then hands it to me.
“Because we understand that our future, and our lives, are in each other’s hands.
If either of us betray the other, there will be fallout.
And it’s impossible to trust each other completely after such a short time.
Kelly believes you will take the money without fulfilling the terms of the contract. ”
I stare for a moment and then lift my gaze back to his.
“I won’t,” I whisper harshly. “We’re in this together.
I would never betray you! You saved me. I would have had to tell my father everything or that man was going to hurt me.
How could I betray you when I owe you everything right now?
” To my surprise, tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks.
“No.” He reaches out to wipe them away with his thumbs, his touch a gentle caress. “Please. No crying. If you trust me, I will take care of you.”
“How can I not trust you?” I whisper, more tears coming. “You’re giving me a whole new lease on life—without my father lording it over me.” I haven’t cried since the night I realized I was in trouble. After that, I steeled my resolve, determined to find a way out of the mess I made.
Then Viktor swept in like some kind of knight in shining armor—with green eyes and a Russian accent.
He’s never once made me feel bad. Never asked me how I could be so stupid.
Never even asked about my grandmother’s farm.
He just offered me a solution. Money. The kind of safety net I didn’t know existed.
For that alone, I could never betray him, no matter what happens.
Emotion overwhelms me and the tears come faster than I can stop them. I’m trying to explain but crying too hard to do it.
Out of nowhere, Viktor wraps his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest, murmuring against my temple like I’m a child.
And I let him.