Maxim had been forced to do that? As a boy? My heart broke for him and Dmitri.
He gauged my expression. "My family is surrounded by death and destruction. Aleksandr killed young. As did I. Only I did it with my bare hands when the man wasn't able to defend himself. I crept out of that basement, some dark warped thing, desperate to kill. How can you not view me differently?"
"I do view you differently. I'm staggered by how brave you were to protect yourself and Dmitri from a monster." I wish I were so brave! I clutched Maxim's shoulders. "I can't feel more fiercely about this. I hate that the weight of this fell on you. But have you thought about the children you spared in that man's future? Or the ones you avenged from his past? And since Orloff was ready to let you die, why should we not believe he'd murdered before?"
My reaction took Maxim aback, but I needed to make him understand. "Sometimes people aren't courageous enough to do what is necessary--adults aren't." In my position, Maxim would've met Edward head on, fighting. "All they can do is dream about being brave. You did what had to be done when you were just a boy. So yes, I see you differently!"
"I didn't expect you to be so . . . vehement." Maxim's gaze flicked over my face, then slid to his right shoulder.
I was squeezing him? Self-conscious, I dropped my hands and cleared my throat. "What did you do afterward?"
He frowned at my reaction, but continued, "Dmitri didn't want anyone to know what Orloff had done to him, so I got rid of the body in the woods. He was never found. We said he got drunk, went out before a storm, and didn't return. No one particularly cared. Years later, I learned he'd been suspected of abusing girls and boys from his own town. Afterward, an elderly woman arrived as guardian. She didn't hurt us, nor did she help us."
"How is Dmitri now?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "He was displeased to hear of my relationship with you."
Maxim had said he wasn't ready for his brothers to learn of me. "And I pretty much announced myself."
"He would have heard by the time of this wedding."
"So some of the angry phone calls have been about me?"
"It can't be helped." He exhaled. "Dmitri could not be more damaged. Every move he makes to get better seems to entrap him more deeply in the past."
"Does he have anyone in his life? A partner? Friends?"
"He's incapable of a relationship. We were alike in that, commiserating over it. While I had my script, he'd developed what he calls protocols. They are more far-reaching, even . . . absolute." He opened his mouth to say more, then paused. "You will meet him. I don't want to color your perception any more."
What more could there be? But I said, "I understand."
"He blames Aleksandr for abandoning us. As eldest, Aleksandr had been a father to Dmitri. Then he was gone."
"Is that why you said you resented him?"
"I used to hate him, imagining his carefree life under the protection of a good man like Kovalev. Yet I learned recently that Aleksandr lived on the streets before Kovalev adopted him. Among so many homeless children, he was an outsider. He'd been raised with privilege--abused, yes, but wealthy--and he talked little by nature. Being alone meant he also had . . . trials, was in no way freed when he left us. In fact, he used to believe he'd been singled out for torment. After finding Natalie, he believes he was tested so he would become strong enough to protect her--that the purpose of his life was always to safeguard hers and ensure her happiness. What do you think of that?"
I softly asked, "How do we know that isn't true? If you believe everything happens for a reason . . ."
He seemed to mull this over. "For decades, I could see no reason for my own trials as a boy. Insomnia plagued me. My appetite was deadened; I could take or leave food, deriving no enjoyment from it. My hypersensitive skin made touch unbearable. For years, I had to grit my teeth just to wear a shirt. Even when I improved physically, my mind wasn't ready to let go. If anyone got close to touching my skin, I'd feel as if my chest was caving in."
Just like mine did when I practiced revealing my past. "But things are different with you now. You have a sweet tooth. You sleep soundly." I whispered, "I touch you."
"I told Aleks of these developments, seeking his opinion."
How odd to hear a man as self-reliant as Maxim getting another's take. But then, Aleks was his big brother, newly reunited with him. "What did he say?"
"He believes a man knows his woman because he begins to evolve for her, to become what she needs. You told me if the incentive was strong enough, some men could change. Aleksandr wanted Natalie more than he wanted his old ways, so he cast them aside. Isn't that what you believe?"
"Yes."
"I sensed something was different about you before we touched, solnyshko. When you grinned over your wineglass and told me the view from the Seltane penthouse was 'adequate,' I got a chill--because I had the impulse to grin. I responded to you as I never have to another, and it unnerved me." Maxim grazed his fingers along my cheekbone. "All those years ago, when I was down in that basement, I wish I had known that on the other side of the world, there was a bold little girl fighting for her pride. And that she would come into my life one day to make it brighter."
With a press of my lips to his forehead, I said, "Now I know that in the snowy north of Siberia, a boy was becoming a man under the harshest possible conditions." How could Maxim have grown so confident? So at ease with power? So remarkable in every way?
He said, "You told me it happened, it hurt, and better things await me. Do they? Am I becoming what you need, Katya?"
I drew a shaky breath. "Maybe you can move on now that you're different? Maybe you want to move on?"
He was silent for long moments, seeming to make a decision. Finally he asked, "Was this too much for you to hear?"
"No. But I hurt with you." For the scared boy he'd been. For the man dealing with his brother's anguish. And his own.
"I do feel . . . better. Lighter. Aleks was right. It's a burden lifted. I would've had to tell you eventually, so I'm relieved it's done."
Because he was that certain we'd be together? My heart clamored. I wanted this man so much! He was the yearning.
"If I'd known you'd react this way, I wouldn't have dreaded the telling so much."
"Thank you for trusting me."
"And you'll give me yours in return. So we can move forward."
Dios mio. I swallowed with nervousness. How could I not trust him?
I might have told Maxim even now--or tried to utter the words--but the look in his eyes said he needed something completely different from me. He wanted to lose himself inside me. To know pleasure and bury pain. I wanted to give him whatever he needed.
As he took me in his arms, I decided that once we got back to Miami, I was going to trust him too.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized, I'll have to tell him eventually.
After the wedding, I'd tell him everything.
CHAPTER 32
When I kissed Maxim good-bye that afternoon, he blinked open his eyes.
After making love twice, he and I had ordered room service, then fallen asleep again. I'd gotten up and dressed before he'd awakened.
Jess and Natalie had told me to join them at three to get my makeup and hair done with the bridal party, but even after last night, I hadn't wanted to impose. Now that it was closing in on five, I figured it wouldn't hurt to show and see if Jess could use some last minute help.
Maxim took in my appearance.
I'd knotted my hair in a high, loose bun and looped my pearls around my neck to make a choker. Matching pearls adorned my ears. I wore minimal makeup. Against the color of my unforgettable dress, my eyes appeared amber, so I played that up with a smidge of soft tawny eye shadow.
But would he approve of my gown? "Well?"
When the designer had first suggested yellow to highlight my tan and my eyes, I'd scrunched my nose, predicting a more conservative crowd here. Then I'd tried on the simple, strapless sheath dr
ess and fell in love.
Maxim's gaze turned heated, his lips parting. "You are . . . exquisite, solnyshko."
Seeing his reaction and knowing his past, I was glad I'd chosen vibrant and bold.
He met my eyes. "And you're mine."
I swallowed. He'd meant every word last night.
Just when I got excited, he said, "Give me ten minutes, Miss Marin." Miss. "Let me grab a shower, and we'll go down."
"I thought I'd go see if Natalie and Jess needed anything."
Tension stole through his body. "Are you . . . are you avoiding me after what I told you?"
I leaned down to cup his face. "No." I kissed him, brief, hard. "They asked me to be there two hours ago, but I held off. Then I started getting worried about Jess's wedding coordination today. I need to make sure that Natalie has a wingwoman. After all she's been through, she deserves to have the most fantastic wedding."
"Ah. I see." He stretched his arms over his head, making my mouth water. "I'm glad you hit it off with them. Go. I'll see you soon."
Out in the lodge, I headed toward the pavilion. I found the bridal party in an adjoining drawing room by following the sound of laughter. Inside was crowded. I skirted past bridesmaids and friends, hair stylists, makeup artists, photographers, and a videographer to get my first look at Natalie. My jaw dropped.
Her ivory gown must've been taken straight from a fairy tale. The dramatic, backless work of art had a skirt of flowing silk chiffon, with tints of pink that made her pale skin shimmer. She wore her long red hair up, loosely pinned and dotted with pearls, wisps curling around her beaming face.
I exclaimed, "Dios mio, tan guapa! You're so beautiful!"
She blushed and waved me over. "You're one to talk--you should always wear this color! I'd hug you, but Jess has forbidden me to touch anyone wearing makeup. Or to follow anything shiny. Or to sweat."
"Is there anything I can get for you?"
"It's all good, just as long as Jessabel doesn't catch me eating."
I saw Jess then. She wore the same soft pink dress as the other bridesmaids, only hers had a plunging neckline to reveal cleavage.
She pointed at me. "You are smokin' hot in that dress, mami. Come give me sugars. That limo's walking as bowlegged as Polly, amirite? Fucking Russians. Grab some bubbly. Catch up."
I guessed we'd smoothed over our tiff. One day, though, I would make her understand the law of diminishing returns.
I snagged a couple of flutes off a server's tray, handing one to Natalie. After a sip, I knew champagne remained a no-go for me.
"Were you eating a pastry?" Jess demanded of Natalie. Stern Jess was a force of nature. "Don't you dare touch that gown with your grubby Natalie paws. You might have no appreciation for couture, but I spent tens and tens of thousands of your dollars on this! You could at least be appreciative." She turned to snap her fingers at Polly. The girl tripped over herself and everyone else to get to Jess--who promptly tugged her bodice down to a sexier height. "What are we? Fucking Amish, like Cat?"
No longer! I stuck out my tongue at her.
Rebecca wended through the packed room to reach Natalie. Her eyes watered at the sight of her daughter. "My little girl." She sniffled.
"Oh, Mom," Natalie said in an aggrieved tone, but she was grinning widely.
When Rebecca's tears began to fall, Jess snapped, "She's not walking the plank; she's merely getting married--to a shady Russian mail-order groom. Did you take the pill I gave you? Take the pill. And I will tongue-check you."
Rebecca rolled her eyes behind her glasses. "Just to stop you from haranguing me, Jessica!" She plucked something out of her clutch, holding it up with a defiant look.
Jess's eyes went wide. "Hold up--"
But Rebecca was already washing it down with champagne. "It's just a Valium, right?"
Jess shook her head no as she said, "Yes, absolutely. In theory." Oh, Dios mio.
Rebecca thought she was joking. "Now can I cry over my little girl?"
"Ask me that again in twenty, Becks. . . ."
After that, we all chattered about nothing in particular, everyone excited, spirits high. I wished I could have had an experience like this, surrounded by friends and family for such an important event.
"All right, ladies." Jess clapped her hands. "T minus fifteen. Bathroom? Anyone? Speak now--or forever hold your piss."
Polly dashed out like she was taking fire, Rebecca followed her, unsteadily. Jess was right on her tail.
Shortly after, Jess returned to pull me out into the hall. Rebecca was leaning against the wall with a dreamy expression on her face.
"What's up?" I asked.
In a hushed voice, Jess said, "Natalie does not need to know this, but I might've accidentally given her mom the molly I was saving for tonight. You're officially on Rebecca Is Rolling duty." She turned to the woman. "See, Becks? Doesn't everything feel softer now?"
Mierda. "It's not a problem." My mantra. On the bright side, the woman's tears had dried right up!
"Can you take her to the pavilion?"
"On it."
As I was leading Rebecca away, I heard Natalie say, "Has anybody seen my mom?"
Jess loudly said, "Hot mami's with her. They're already on their way."
I smiled up at the starry-eyed lady. "We're almost there, Rebecca. Here we go. We're turning left--our other left. Okay, muy bien."
The pavilion was spectacular with its sky-high pitched ceiling, arching rafters, and gleaming wood floor. Peonies, lilies, and lavish orchids graced the area, scenting the air. Past the immense plate-glass windows was a lit courtyard with hanging lanterns reflecting off the snow.
When I found Tom, he took Rebecca's hand with a frown. She petted his tie.
"Everything okay?" he asked me.
Bob and weave. "She had some champagne?" As I said that she licked his face like a stamp.
Baffled, Tom said, "Uh, Cat, will you please stay with her while I walk Natalie down the aisle?"
"You got it. Not a problem. Rebecca, we're over here." I tugged her to the front pew, eventually getting her to sit. I gazed around for anything to keep her attention--or possibly a pacifier and a glow stick. Coming up empty, I pointed at her dress hem. "Oh, look, Rebecca. It's the end of your dress! It's frilly frilly frilly."
She grew fascinated with it.
This whole weekend was turning out surreal. I was at the wedding of a Russian mobster's daughter to a cherished hit man, sitting next to a mother-of-the-bride who was tripping balls.
My . . . boyfriend (shivers) was in the mafiya as well. Oh, and a billionaire.
Aleks and three groomsmen entered then from another drawing room, taking their places at the altar. They were supposed to line up and wait for the bridesmaids. So where was Maxim?
Natalie's groom was dashing in his crisp tux, yet he still looked dangerous with his tats and close-cropped hair. He was also clearly nervous, pulling at his collar, craning his head, trying to get a look at Natalie.
His nervousness made me go aww. A man who ate bullets for breakfast truly was afraid--that she'd get away.
Then . . . Maxim entered.
When I got my first look at him in a tux, I sucked in a breath, my arm flying out to the side, as if I'd been in a car wreck.
Un hombre magnifico. He could not have looked more gorgeous.
When his eyes found me, he gave me a cocky grin, knowing he looked fucking magnificent--knowing I was floored by him. The dark promise in his eyes made me melt.
He took his place beside Aleks, both men so tall and strong. The strain I'd sensed between the two had eased a little more. He clapped his brother on the back, razzing him about something.
As the wedding song began playing, I helped Rebecca to her feet. One by one, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. When Jess traipsed by, she winked and blew me a kiss. My gaze slid to Maxim; he scowled at that. Rebecca pointed at the ceiling and whispered, "Ohhh."
Then Tom escorted Natalie down the aisle and everyone
sighed at the beautiful bride. Except Aleks. He adjusted his stance, as if he'd just caught himself from reeling.
Natalie looked totally at ease, ready to be married. To start a new life.
Even after Tom had given Natalie away and we'd all sat, Aleks still appeared awestruck by his bride. I thought his hand shook as he took hers.
I could hear Natalie say to Aleks, "You turned up hot, Siberian. I think I better put a ring on it."
His brows drew together, and he nodded earnestly.
As I tugged Rebecca to sit, I tried not to stare at Maxim. But my eyes only wanted to look at him.
Going to a wedding like this, with a man like him, was dangerous to my heart. At every turn something reminded me of a fairy tale; how long would it be before I started yearning for one of my own?
Once the bride and groom began to exchange their heartfelt vows, Maxim pinned me with his piercing gaze. Everything else faded until I could swear we were the only ones in the room.
His expression made my breath hitch, as if he was making his own promises to me. After his confessions this morning, I knew he wanted more from me--and he was willing to bare his entire soul to get it.
But the fact remained that as of right now, I was a married woman--and I'd let him believe I wasn't. I'd let everyone believe that.
No, I didn't speak lies.
I just lived them.
Por Dios, don't let Maxim catch the garter. I adjusted my sweating grip on the bride's bouquet--the one I had caught.
Earlier, Jess had forced me into the crowd of single women vying for it. Though Polly had all but warmed up for the event and more than one girl had a fervent glimmer in her eyes, I'd been standing off to the side, feeling like an imposter, with no right to be there.
The flowers had hit my chest, dead center. If I hadn't caught the bouquet, it would've fallen to the ground.
All the girls congratulated me, some more believably than others. (Really, Polly, sour grapes? Here. Take them.) Natalie had hugged me, while Jess had declared herself my wedding coordinator: "Dibs, bitches!"
Maxim had wrapped his arms around me, eyes lively. "How interesting."
I'd plastered a smile on my face for all of them, never more aware that my life was a lie.