Chapter 14 - Mikhail
It was already all set up, with my people waiting for the final word from me to make this happen. Laurel might have still been in shock, thinking I was joking, pausing for a long time between her answers, as if she was getting lost in thought or memories.
I hated to think she was reliving the attack, or worse, but I was fine with taking advantage of it if it kept her out of harm’s way. Or kept her from causing my family any more trouble. Either way, she was coming home with me.
As of now, there was nothing more than a few tenuous connections to link Laurel’s ex to anything that was going on here in LA, but I wasn’t about to count anything out.
That had gotten my family and me in trouble too often before.
The moment you didn’t think someone was dangerous to you, they struck.
I didn’t believe Laurel was a danger to me or mine. Not yet. But she was in danger herself. That was clear. Whether this was just a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer or Laurel knew more than she should about his operation remained to be seen.
As long as she was safe, I could be patient in finding out.
I explained to her the situation with my father, which wasn’t strictly true, at least where I was concerned.
He’d never dare interfere with any of my relationships, and up until recently, he would have been a hypocrite to try.
My brothers might have been following in his formerly reckless footsteps, but I’d never been that interested in a string of meaningless flings.
As for our father insisting on having the final word on who my sister married, the jury was out on how serious he was about that.
He doted on Sofiya, the youngest of us, and if my brothers and I were honest with ourselves, we wouldn’t have minded making sure she ended up with someone we approved of.
I laid it on extra thick, leaning into Laurel, believing everyone in Russia was still overly conservative and patriarchal.
“You’re really not joking around because you feel sorry for me or something?” she asked after I explained how she’d be helping me out.
I sighed. “Why would I feel sorry for you? Did that asshole hire a skywriter to explain he was an asshole before you got with him?”
My fists clenched thinking about her being with anyone other than me, let alone someone who treated her badly.
“No,” she said. “You know how it is. I made a mistake, and then it was too late. I’m sorry I lied about not working at Canyon Vines.”
“That’s not an issue right now. Or at all.”
“Yes,” she blurted.
For a moment, I thought she was arguing with me, because that was our modus operandi about most things, but when her cheeks flamed bright red, I realized she was accepting my proposal. Such as it was.
“Good. Wait here. Do you want flowers?”
“What? Sure, I guess. Uh, when do you want to—”
“Wait here.”
Within twenty minutes, the priest I had on standby arrived, a longtime friend of my cousins and someone who appreciated a hefty donation for such services.
He had his assistant in tow to serve as a witness, and she had hastily acquired a bouquet of red roses.
I hurried them through the construction zone to my office, where Laurel sat staring blindly at her hands.
She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw the priest in his garb. She accepted the flowers on autopilot and stood where the priest told her to stand. I stood next to her and turned to face her. I wore one of my everyday suits, and I hastily tightened up my tie.
She glanced down at her plain blue blouse and black trousers, and wrinkled up her nose. This wasn’t how she imagined things.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered.
A slight smile curled her lips, and she locked eyes with me. “You weren’t joking,” she whispered back.
Not even a little bit.
It was all over in a few minutes, and after our signatures and the assistant’s promise to clear everything with the courts, they left us. Laurel stood exactly where she’d been instructed and stared at the door as it swung closed behind them.
“I had no idea you were that powerful,” she said, somewhat swaying on her feet.
I took her by the shoulders to steady her. “Not even close,” I said with a smile, leaning in. It wasn’t fear in her eyes right before she closed them. I kissed her, wanting to linger, but pulled away as her hands rose to rest lightly on my chest. “Just to seal the deal,” I said, stepping back.
Did she look disappointed? I hoped so. “Yeah, Father Whats-his-name didn’t tell us to do that.”
“Father Sokolov, he’s Russian Orthodox. He probably just forgot.”
“But you didn’t,” she said. Did she look hopeful for another one?
“Come on,” I said, taking her hand. “There’s no way we’re getting back to work like nothing just happened.”
I dropped her hand as we passed the builders and took it again as I led her to my car. No more buses for my wife.
“How did you know where I lived yesterday?” she asked as soon as she recognized we were heading to her apartment.
Good question. “HR records,” I said smoothly. That was the easiest information to find out about her, but she didn’t need to know I’d been parking outside and watching her place. And now I wouldn’t have to anymore.
“Grab a few things,” I said, following her into her apartment. “I’ll get someone over here to bring whatever big stuff you need.”
“Everything’s from the thrift store, so I’m sure it won’t fit with your decor,” she said, then furrowed her brow. “How long do you think this arrangement is going to last?”
“Did you not hear until death do us part?” I asked, engrossed in what I was doing on my phone. I glanced up at her to grin, and she laughed easily, still thinking I was joking after everything. “If you’re worried about paying rent on a place you won’t be staying, don’t.”
“I can’t ask you to pay my rent.”
“You didn’t,” I told her, looking back down at my phone.
She huffed but didn’t argue, because it was clear she was still shaken up that Rand had found her and actually tried to get her back by any means necessary.
I’d seen firsthand how easy it was to get into the courtyard.
Her security gate was a joke when the other tenants blithely let anyone walk in behind them.
She was right to be scared, and it pissed me off that she had to be, but not for much longer.
Nothing or no one could touch her at my place, which was decked out with Fokin-level security systems and full-time guards.
The fact that they doubled as gardeners to make it less obvious didn’t negate how deadly they were.
While she tossed some clothes and her toiletries into an overnight bag, I made the arrangements to end her lease early and have some movers come to put her furniture into storage.
“Would your father really arrange a marriage for you?” she asked when we were back in the car.
“Was your father strict?” I asked, trying to dodge the question as much as possible so I didn’t have to lie to her too much.
“No, the opposite. He didn’t care what I did unless he could use it to torment my mother.”
I grimaced, glancing at her as she stared straight ahead. “Sorry about that. My dad’s actually great. He only wants the best for us. His best and my best aren’t always the same thing, though.”
That was true enough. He thought my brewery was a waste of time, urging me to go into business with him full-time. He was fine with it now, but when I dug in my heels at the beginning, he almost washed his hands of me.
“Who’s us?” she asked. “Do you have a brother or a sister?”
“I have three brothers and one sister.”
“Oh, that sounds nice,” she sighed. “Your own little army.”
She had no idea, but her yearning for someone to be on her side was palpable, making my stomach flip over. “It had its ups and downs. We weren’t always on the same side. And I know a little bit about having parents who hated each other, although I was pretty young when my mother died.”
“Sorry about that.”
I couldn’t exactly say she got into her own mess, so I only nodded.
“My father handled it well,” I said diplomatically.
After she cheated on him, stole his money, and worked with our enemies to try to get him killed, he showed plenty of restraint in not throwing a party. “She wasn’t exactly a doting mother.”
“Mine’s not either.”
She turned and smiled at me, a bit tremulously.
I hoped it wasn’t all crashing in on her as she came out of her shock.
I probably should have been in shock, too.
This was by far the craziest thing I ever did, but recalling that asshole putting his hands on her cemented the decision for me. There was nothing else I could do.
“Oh wow,” she said when I pulled through the gates to my place.
She craned her head forward to take it all in, and it was pretty impressive.
I lived simply in Moscow, spending more time at the brewery than home.
But keeping up with the neighbors, and my extremely rich cousins, was the name of the game here, and I did enjoy a lot of the amenities of my new mansion.
“Make yourself at home,” I said. “Oh, hang on.” Pausing at the front doors, I leaned down and scooped her up to carry her over the threshold.
She laughed, kicking her legs to make me put her down. Not a chance. She felt too good in my arms. “Welcome home, wife.”
Her eyes locked with mine, and she went still. I could feel her heart beating double time, and she pressed against my chest, silently asking me to put her down.
“How is this going to work?” she asked when her feet were on the marble tiles. “We don’t even get along.”
Yes, her shock was wearing off fast.
“We do get along,” I argued, making her smirk. “Just under the proper circumstances.”
I pulled her into the kitchen and opened the fridge to pull out two bottles of my favorite California microbrews.
Cracking the caps off, I handed one to her and then tugged her down the hall into the media room, where I got some country music cranking on the massive stereo system.
Completely unnecessary when music came out of my phone just fine, but the thumping beats helped set the tone.
We clinked bottles, and I toasted to the new Mrs. Fokin. Laurel’s eyes shone, and her cheeks blazed as she downed a chug, and then she was in my arms. I swung her around and pulled her back to me, her laughter giving me more of a buzz than the beer.
We danced until we were gasping for breath between laughter and exertion, and I grabbed the remote and clicked around until a slow song came on. Pulling her close, I swayed to the music, and she rested against my chest, smiling up at me.
“See?” I said. “I’m never wrong.”
Her smile puckered up, but she didn’t pull away, only rolled her eyes mildly. I leaned down as her lips parted and her eyes drifted shut. As soon as my mouth touched hers, I tightened my grip until she was flush with my body, her soft curves melting against me like she was made to be there.
My hands moved up her back, then down to cup that sweet ass I had been admiring in secret. So hot and soft and perfect. When my tongue darted out, hers was there to meet it, her soft gasp making me pull her closer. I wanted my bride so badly. Now.
She rose on her toes, and the feel of her tight nipples brushing against my chest as she ran her fingers through my hair made my cock spring to life. She froze, her hands dropping to my shoulders as she yanked her mouth away.
There was that same flash of fear in her eyes that I saw when the asshole was all over her, and it crushed me enough to let her go. She stumbled back, and to my relief, the fear was gone, replaced with fire that had me wanting to grab her close all over again.
Shaking her head, she stepped back further, her hand held out like a traffic cop. “Okay, that’s not part of the deal.”
“We didn’t really go over all the details,” I reminded her, slowly reaching for her waist. “I’m fine with making things real.”
Even more indignant fire flared as she shook her head. “Absolutely not. And this—” she waved her hand at the beers, the stereo, her own face—”This won’t be happening again any time soon, er, ever.”
I smiled at the little slip. Realizing what she said, she made an irritated noise and stormed off. “Guest rooms are on the second floor, take your pick.”
“Damn right I will,” she called over her shoulder.
I kept smiling as I watched the saucy sway of her hips, and the fact that she trusted me at least enough to fight back instead of shutting down. Now I just needed to figure out if I could trust her.