5. Nikolai
NIKOLAI
Inside the house, I yank open the bag my brother brought over and pull out a pale-yellow sundress with blue trim.
It’s feminine and has a stretchy panel across the back.
Lilia thoughtfully included a pair of plain white canvas shoes that look unworn.
No underwear. I’m perfectly fine with that.
It’ll make getting Sierra naked that much easier.
An unexpected surge of lust careens through my body. The first thing I noticed about her, arguably the asset that short-circuited my logical brain, was the sight of her gorgeous round ass encased in red silk. I can imagine exactly how she’ll feel in my hands…
I shake my head to clear it. Get married. Get her pregnant. Then deal with the mudak who killed my father.
Grief ricochets through me. We’ve had four days to process our patriarch’s death.
As a rule, we Orlovs don’t talk about feelings, but it doesn’t mean we don’t experience them.
We’re all mourning in our way. Mamushka probably thinks she’s giving us a gift by sending us out on a distracting competition. She might even be right.
Maxim’s probably off hunting down his arranged bride as we speak.
Rion is a mama’s boy, so he’s probably been spending time with Mamushka and Lilia. His reclusive twin, Luka, has to be plotting something. My palms turn damp just thinking about it. An itch rolls along my spine.
I raise my fist to pound on the bathroom door when it opens. Sierra stares at me wide-eyed, wrapped in my bathrobe. Who knew plain white terrycloth could be even sexier than red silk? I lower my arm. “Are you almost ready?”
“Almost. Missing clothes.”
I thrust the bag with Lilia’s borrowed outfit at her. She takes them without thanks. “Five minutes.” She disappears behind the wooden barrier again. Eight minutes pass. After ten, I shout, “How long does it take to put on a dress, Sierra? We need to go.”
“I can’t wear this in public,” she says, her complaint muffled.
“Why not?”
She yanks the door open and stares at me. I suck in a breath. Seeing her is a physical blow, she’s so gorgeous. Minimal makeup, the yellow strapless dress hugging her curves, the fabric stretched tight over her breasts and fitting loosely from the waist down.
“It’s see-through, Nik. My nipples are clearly visible.”
She’s right. They are. My dick surges to uncomfortable hardness at the sight of the faint dark circles of her areolas, and my mouth goes dry. “So what?”
“It’s embarrassing,” she says mulishly. I grab her chin and snarl, “No one will be looking at your tits.” I lean in closer. “Except for me. I get to stare at them all I want. Understand?”
Sierra blinks at me. Her lips part and her eyes turn slightly glassy.
I can practically see her nipples hardening in my peripheral vision.
It makes me want to get her to the closest chapel and put my ring on her finger immediately, for reasons that have nothing to do with a power struggle for control of the Orlov empire and everything to do with wanting to get my straining cock inside her. Now.
“Let’s go.” I manacle her bicep and drag her along with me to the rear of the house into the garage where my Aston Martin is parked.
“Get in.” I yank the door open and gesture to the seat.
I’m a gentleman. I don’t push women around.
Kidnap them, yes, when necessary. Shoving, though—my sister and my mother would have my head.
Sierra plops down, fuming, and clicks the belt across her waist, primly clutching her purse in her lap. I don’t have time to look down the front where the bodice gaps. I get into the driver’s seat and tear out of the garage into the streets.
“I cannot believe my little sister wears that in public.” She certainly doesn’t do it around the family. The four of us would make her cover up.
“I assume she’s smaller than I am,” Sierra says tartly. “This sundress is two sizes too small for me. She also presumably wears a bra, which would dampen the headlights.”
“Taller and skinnier, yeah.” I reach over and squeeze Sierra’s knee. “The only people who are going to see you will be me and the officiant. I’m sure whoever they are has seen worse. This is Las Vegas, after all.”
She smiles tightly.
“I’ll buy you clothes tomorrow,” I promise. I’m not going to lose my wife over a damn dress.
“We never discussed how long I have to stay married to you to earn the ten million dollars you promised,” she says.
Forever. If I say that, she’ll bolt.
“Long enough for me to secure control over the Orlov emp—I mean, company. Orlov Enterprises.” Sierra shoots me a sidelong look.
That was a slip-up. She won’t like finding out that she impulsively married a Russian mobster.
A problem for later. She’s willing to go through with it despite the fact that I kidnapped her, though, which is interesting. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two. How about yourself?”
“I’m twenty-six.” For a second, I was worried. What if she were still in high school? But twenty-two is fully adult and old enough to make questionable decisions about your future. “Parents? Family?”
“My parents died three years ago. Car accident. After I finished high school, I went to work cleaning houses to support me and my younger sister.”
“Where is she now?”
“We had a falling out when she dropped out of college against my advice. I haven’t seen her since she moved in with her boyfriend last year.” A sad smile ghosts across Sierra’s lips. “We both have bad taste in men.”
“Until you met me.” I wink.
“You are proof of my terrible taste,” she scoffs. “You know, the whole abduction thing.”
My mouth kicks up at one corner. Smartass. I pull into the parking lot and kill the engine. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. Don’t we need rings?”
Frustration claws my insides. “I’ll buy you a diamond tomorrow. Let’s get the paperwork filed and the ceremony over with first.”
She tucks her hand into the crook of my elbow. “You’re such a romantic.”
“I’m a businessman first and foremost. Remember that, Sierra.
This is a transaction.” As we’re rounding the corner, my brother’s McLaren comes screaming into the parking lot.
The car hasn’t fully stopped when my sister pushes the door open and tumbles out, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Lilia. What are you doing here?” I snarl. I can’t believe Rion let her come.
“I wanted to see my big brother get married.” She stares at Sierra with open curiosity. “He’s the first one, you know. Unless Maxim has managed to find Alisa and marry her. No one has seen him since the funeral this morning.”
I feel my pulse kick with alarm.
“I can guarantee you she wasn’t at home in Los Angeles this afternoon,” Sierra deadpans, then glances impishly at me.
“How would you know?” Having parked his vehicle in the spot next to mine, Rion strides over to us. “Were you there?”
“You could say that,” Sierra answers.
“Where’s your twin?” I ask, heading off any further questioning.
They don’t need to know how badly I fucked up my own plan.
I pivoted. The way I handled this afternoon’s setback proves I can think on my feet.
But none of that matters if Luka or Maxim have already secured a bride.
And why isn’t Rion even trying? He’s as competitive and ruthless as the rest of us. Something doesn’t add up.
“Luka took off, same as Maxim.” He holds out one hand and says, “Welcome to the family…”
“Sierra,” she says immediately, taking it. Her hand is swallowed by his tattooed one. The idea of my brother touching her, however innocently, fills me with rage. “Sierra Martinez. I’m from Los Angeles.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I clean houses.” She tosses her head defiantly, her damp curls glossy in the streetlight. “I was cleaning Alisa’s house when—”
“That’s enough introductions. Let’s get married.” I press my palm possessively to the small of her back and urge her past my intrusive and annoying siblings. Both of them follow us. “Find your own damn bride, man,” I mutter to Rion, bumping his shoulder as I brush past him.
“Maybe I already have,” he says cryptically.
“Bullshit.”
“You aren’t the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve, Nikolai.”
True enough. My brother is a cagey son of a bitch. Luka is secretive, but Rion is sneaky and sly. They make an excellent cyber- and physical security team. Maxim is an operations and logistics kind of guy—cold and calculating.
Then there’s me. The wild card. If this stunt works, I’m going to be the top dog for once in my fucking life.
Inside the chapel, a leak in the ceiling has left water marks down the wall. The place smells of mildew and old carpeting. A gray-haired balding man with a potbelly sits behind a window. “Can I help you?” he says, peering at us blearily.
“We’re here to get married.” I gesture at the sign.
“Well thank you for choosing the Lucky in Love Chapel, where love lasts forever—if you’re lucky.” He winks broadly at me. “We are available to officiate your wedding 24-7 for as little as $99.99. Are you two tying the knot tonight as well?”
Behind me, Lilia and Rion must have made a face. “Ew. No. He’s my brother. They both are. We’re just here to witness the first one of my four brothers getting married,” my sister explains, and then makes kissing sounds at me. Brat.
“Very mature.” I swat her on the back of the head. Not hard. Nothing she isn’t used to from growing up with four older brothers. Lilia sticks out her tongue at me. Sierra ducks her chin to hide a smile.
“It’s just the two of us,” she tells the clerk.
“The package with up to four guests is $129.99. You want Elvis to serenade your ceremony?” He sings the chorus of I Can’t Help Falling In Love. He’s got a surprisingly decent voice, but I shake my head.
“Just the ceremony.”
“Your fiancé is no fun,” he whispers conspiratorially to Sierra. “I’m going to need to see identification.”
Twenty minutes later, with our paperwork squared away, the clerk brings us into a chapel and leads us through a short recitation of vows.
The miniature chapel is decorated in fake flowers with a filmy white curtain for a backdrop.
A podium like you’d see in a conference room stands in the center.
The place smells faintly of mildew. Three rows of white-painted pews with more fake flowers attached to the ends stand ready to host guests.
Only Rion and Lilia stand there, beaming and smirking at us.
Sierra toys with her bouquet of cheap fake roses while she says the words to have and to hold, in sickness and in health. Promises neither of us intends to keep.
“Did you bring rings?” the officiant asks when the short ceremony is finished.
“No,” Sierra and I both answer at the same time. I want to brush the strand of hair that’s fallen across her cheek aside so I can read her expression. What is she thinking? This wedding is a farce. Does she regret it already? Weirdly, the idea pinches my gut.
“Use mine.” Lilia twists a gold band in the shape of an eagle with its wings spread wide from her finger. “Sierra can give you the one you’re wearing. They’ll match. Good enough until you can get real ones.”
“Cute. Good call.” I remove a ring with the same family emblem from my right hand and offer it to Sierra.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” She flashes me an uncertain smile and slides the ring onto my left ring finger.
It feels strange to wear it on the wrong hand. My heart beats faster as I mirror the process with her.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Right. Kissing. I swallow thickly. I shouldn’t be surprised by this.
I bend down and capture Sierra’s lips with mine.
She tastes of brown sugar and innocence.
I want to devour her. I cup her delicate head in one tattooed hand, the texture of her curls crisp against my palm.
An airy moan, almost inaudible, escapes her.
Her soft, sweet lips part for me. I shift forward instinctively, already addicted to her.
Applause breaks out. I break the kiss, pulling away despite the way every nerve is screaming at me to keep touching her.
I glare at my siblings, who are both being obnoxious.
Lilia jumps up and down, her blond hair bouncing around her slim shoulders, and a huge smile on her face.
Rion’s shit-eating grin is just fucking irritating.
“Let’s go.” I grab my wife’s hand to lead her away. Sierra’s dazed expression and her hard, pebbled nipples visible beneath the too-tight dress send a lightning strike of desire straight to my cock.
“Wait. You need to sign the certificate,” says our officiant. “And you’ll want your photographs, too.”
“Gotta prove to Mamushka that you sealed the deal. Congrats, baby brother, you did it. You won the marriage competition.” Rion claps me on the shoulder. “Now you just have to fulfill the next part. Is your fake bride going to go along with that, too?”
My dick surges to painful hardness at the thought of my child in Sierra’s sexy belly. I sidestep my brother’s attempt to goad me by asking, “You aren’t even trying. Why not?”
I glare at him suspiciously. Before Rion can answer, though, Sierra peers up at me and says, “What next part?”