Chapter 36
Anice hot bath is the curer of all ailments and I so need this one as I ponder my day. My aunt’s letter is burning a hole in my sanity as I struggle to understand the warnings woven like bloodied thread through the pages. She was murdered. It’s obvious. But by who and for what?
Could I be next? Is that why she was adamant I sell everything? For my own protection, so I don’t wind up in the grave beside her.
I am so deep in thought I jump when Valentin crouches down beside the bath and stares at me with a lustful gleam in his eye.
“I have an idea.” He says simply and the heat from the hot water is no match for the burst of color that heats my face as I hope to God it involves being naked with him.
“What idea?”
I sit up, the water spilling from my breasts, causing him to drag his eyes the length of me and growl, “We are getting married.”
For a second, I believe I have water in my ears because surely he didn’t say what I think he did.
“Excuse me?”
My eyes are wide as I wait for the real words to reveal themselves and, if anything, his eyes darken and he says huskily, “You are going to be my wife. Tonight.”
My mouth drops open and yet no words come out. Did I fall asleep in this bath? Am I drowning and hallucinating as my life fades into blissful, imaginary worlds?
He stands and says firmly, “Get dressed. A smart white dress will suffice. Artem is arranging the registrar who will come to the house. You have one hour to get ready.”
He moves away and I say quickly, “But I haven’t said yes.”
He stops, but he doesn’t turn around and fires back. “It wasn’t a request.”
I smile as he repeats the sentence he used to get me in the car at my aunt’s funeral and as the door closes softly behind him, I am left wondering what the hell just happened.
I’m getting married. He didn’t even ask, just told me. I’m not surprised, but I am concerned. Of course I am because marriage, to him, to this life, their mafia-ish world and the dangers it brings, is enough to keep Aunt Veronica’s ghost from ever resting in peace.
Marriage!
To Valentin Romanov!
I hug my knees to my chest as I sit in the bath and rather than be extremely concerned right now, my heart is light and fluttering like a caged bird in a cattery.
I’m getting married.
In one hour’s time.
I will be Mrs. Pollyanna Romanov.
The tears trickle down my face as my heart struggles to keep up. He meant it. He wants to marry me, but why? Why the urgency and why now? It’s so unexpected and I’m convinced there is something I’m missing. But marriage to Valentin. Whatever his reasons are, I couldn’t say no if I tried.
One hour to the second,I make my way out of the room dressed in a simple white silk dress and satin heels. The lingerie is kissing parts of me I never knew existed and despite the rush, I took care with my hair and make-up.
This is my wedding day. I never expected to have one and definitely not to this man. I’m not sure why, but it’s almost as if my parents are beside me on either side as I walk along the landing toward the stately staircase that dominates the hallway.
I am wearing a beautiful silver necklace that drops into the valley of my breasts and a matching bracelet. My fingers are bare and I wonder what the ring will look like on my wedding finger. I will be joined to him for as long as he says so and I’m in no doubt about that. Valentin is following his own agenda here, and I doubt it includes the word love.
Whatever his reasons are, it probably concerns the mystery we are currently caught up in and yet none of that matters except for the cold hard facts. I’m going to be his wife and despite everything, I am more than happy about that.
I’m surprised to see Artem standing at the bottom of the staircase, holding a beautiful bunch of red roses. They are absolutely huge and remind me of the roses we tossed into my aunt’s open grave. It’s strangely fitting and my eye is drawn to the stems, which brings a wry smile to my face. They are covered in the sharpest thorns, just like the man I’m about to marry and strangely, the perfect choice for what is happening now.
Artem offers me his arm, saying respectfully, “Allow me to give you away, Polly.”
“Really?” My eyes fill with tears as he offers me a reassuring smile.
“In the absence of her father, no woman should be alone on her journey from one life to the next. It will be my honor to take his place.”
As I hold his arm, I smile at him gratefully. “I appreciate it, Artem.”
A flicker of sympathy crosses his eyes and then he surprises me by whispering, “Valentin is a good man. Be patient with him.”
I nod, grateful for the advice because Artem is as close to him as a brother and is reassuring me that I am making the right decision. Not that I have a choice, it seems.
His eyes are cold, ruthless and dead. They are the demonic eyes of a killer and a man who lives for his job. Yet he is offering me soft words at the time I need them the most and as we head toward the living room, I have zero doubts that I am doing the right thing.
One hour has changed everything and I no longer feel anxious about losing Valentin. For whatever reasons he has, I will be his wife and I won’t be on my own anymore. We will just work out the details of the rest of our life as we go along.
One hour can definitely changeeverything, and this room is no exception. I blink away the tears when I see it has been drenched in red roses. They are absolutely everywhere and it’s as if I have wandered into a rose garden that is having the best year of its life. There must be no red roses left in London because they are all here in this room.
My eyes are drawn to the floor to ceiling doors leading out to the diminishing sun kissed garden and standing before them in a black suit, his dark eyes flashing as he watches me approach is the man I am here to marry.
His devilish good looks are heightened by the smart suit and the appearance of a man who classes money as the least of his worries. He is not wearing a tie, just a black silk shirt left open to reveal that dark scripted chest and my mouth waters as he stares at me with an expression that makes me shiver inside.
It’s as if I’m a lamb to the slaughter because I should be very afraid right now. His intentions are written all over his face, and the possessive gleam in his eye isn’t lost on me. I have never been the focus of so much dark attention in my life, and it takes my breath away.
I’m grateful for Artem’s support as I stumble and as I stare at the man who is running away with my soul, I relish every minute of it. He never asked me the question, just told me the answer, and if he had, the outcome would be the same. I would still be walking toward him with a heart fluttering with nerves and yet full to the brim with happiness.
My life has become a dark fairy tale ever since he tossed a rose into my aunt’s grave and turned to stare into my eyes for the first time. I was lost then and I’m lost now as I walk toward my fate with the naivety of a fool.