"The thought of you getting back with him drives me insane." He looked it, as if he was barely holding himself together. "I'm eaten alive with jealousy that he had years of your life." Dmitri didn't touch me, kept his clenched fists lowered. "Last night at dinner, you told me you didn't know if you would go back to him. Today, I find him at your door. You're still in love with him!"
"No, I'm not!" I said, frowning as I realized I wasn't--at all.
"You'll prove it, then," Dmitri said. "You'll wed me."
I gaped. I thought he'd mentioned marriage to screw with Brett.
Married to Dmitri Sevastyan? I frowned down at my chest--because my heart pounded as if it'd just heard the best idea ever. "You can't be serious." Dmitri was playing right into my family's hands. The manufactured crisis had worked; step seven of the long con. "Where are you taking me?"
"I told you. To the courthouse."
"You're missing one important detail--I haven't said yes!"
His gaze held mine, enthralling me. "You will."
What if I did? Two tears in a bucket, right?
No, no, no! Stop thralling me! "This is moving way too fast!"
"From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were going to be mine. You got under my skin, into my fucking blood! After last night, I know you want me too." He stabbed his fingers through his hair. "I've never felt this way about anyone else."
The congressman had said the same to Karin. "I've heard that line before."
"It isn't a goddamned line!"
"We met Friday, and now you're talking marriage!"
"Maksim knew Lucia would be his after one night. Aleksandr decided to marry Natalie after one look. My timing is cautious by comparison."
I thought of the con. What a coup this would be.
But my mark might be mentally unwell, and that made him vulnerable. Yet these were desperate times. I knew I needed to break the code, but I still said, "Give me one reason why you're so intent on this today. Can't we wait a day or two? What would one day hurt?"
"What would one day help? I told you I don't handle confusion well. I despise uncertainty, have had more of that in my life than any man should have to bear. I will not tolerate uncertainty with you."
"What does that mean?" I asked, fearing his answer would be over the top and crazy.
"I must know you are either completely mine--or you're not."
"You are giving me an ultimatum?" I was supposed to give him one! How had things gone so sideways?
"Say yes, Victoria. Or say good-bye."
Hadn't I just worried what would happen when he took his sexual intensity away from me? "Why are you looking at it in such black-and-white terms?"
He grasped my nape. "I feel as if I'm scalded with acid whenever I think about you. And I think of nothing else! My mind seethes. My body seethes."
"You fucked-up man! That sounds painful--not good."
"It is painful! It's goddamned misery. The only thing that soothes it is being with you."
His words brought to mind what Gram had said--about finding a guy who would never jeopardize his relationship. Because it equaled his very life.
Why was I thinking about that now? This "relationship" wasn't real! He couldn't feel this way already.
And if he did, his feelings would fade just as quickly.
His hand tightened on my nape. "And now another man--one so unworthy of you--threatens what we could have?" Dmitri gave me a brief, hard kiss. "You will marry me, angel. Accept this as inevitable."
CHAPTER 20
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"He, uh, wants to get hitched. Today," I told everyone on the conference line. "In fact, he gave me an ultimatum. Marry him, or never see him again. Ironic, huh?" I'd already relayed the fight with Brett and grilled them about that e-mail. Nobody had copped to it.
Pete said, "Where are you now?"
"At the courthouse, in some little room. He asked me to wait here for him to return." I felt like I was getting sweated by Johnny Law. What was taking Dmitri so long? His family had left Vegas, so he couldn't be waiting on them. He hadn't mentioned anything about mine.
"Find him! You're letting him get away!" Mom cried. "Right now his lawyers are telling him all the reasons why he can't marry you. At best, they're cobbling together a prenup. You need to be hauling Sevastyan over the finish line!"
"Mom's right," Benji said. "You're losing the heat of the moment. If he gets out of crisis mode and starts thinking clearly--"
"Vice isn't ready for this." Dad's tone was stern. "A marriage con can play with your mind. I know this."
Gram made a sound of agreement. "It's so true." After losing my grandfather, she'd married a string of wealthy men.
Pete said, "Then what if Vice kept him?"
"How would that work?" I asked, longing for a deck of cards to soothe my frayed nerves. "Hi, Dmitri, I know we've only been married a few days, but I need a blank check for a fortune, and I can never tell you what it's for." I pinched my temples. "Besides, I thought I was going to settle down with a grifter, someone I could take home to meet my family. My real family. If I keep Dmitri, what kind of future will I have with you guys?" I'd belong in neither world. "I'm not talking about cutting him loose this minute, but we must be getting close--without a wedding."
Dmitri opened the door. "My apologies."
I said into the phone, "He's back. Gotta run," which was code for stay on the line, because I'm only acting like I'm hanging up. I set it facedown on the bench. "What's happening?"
"I've been making arrangements." Pulling together a prenup? He sat beside me. "You've probably dreamed of a certain kind of wedding, not a courthouse ceremony, but we will host a celebration for our families once we've settled in."
"Settled in?" Oh, fuck me. He was planning to take me to the motherland! "In Russia?"
"No, in California. We have an estate on the northern coast."
We have. Wait, California? Oh, come on! My dream location. Lady Luck seemed to be smiling down on me.
He tucked a curl behind my ear. "I would never expect you to live far from your family. The flight there is only a little over an hour by jet."
"Just hold on a second. I need to talk to you about all this--"
"Here." He pulled a ring box from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "Perhaps this will make up for the abruptness of everything."
The weight sent a tremor through me. "This ring box is heavy," I said, secretly narrating. I opened the lid and sucked in a breath.
Monster rock . . . jackpot . . . don't scream, don't scream!
"Dmitri, it's unreal. This marquise diamond must be . . . fifteen carats." The band was platinum, my favorite! "How did you get a ring like this so quickly?" That was where he'd been!
"I have ways. Do you like it? We can get you another--"
"NO." Monster rock MINE.
"I'm pleased you approve. I also sent one of my men to collect your bag and lock up your apartment. The car remains. Perhaps your family would like to use it? I will get you another one." Another? He took my hand and stood. "Come, they're ready."
So soon? "Where's the paperwork? Surely a prenup will take some time."
He frowned. "We have no need of that."
"Pardon?"
"I intend to make you happy in our marriage. What's mine will become yours, and you will never make me regret trusting you with all that I have."
My brain exploded. I could make five hundred million dollars in the next ten minutes. If I were an awful person.
But the threat to my family . . .
I wished I could just nibble enough to save my parents; why did Dmitri have to force me into this major commitment?
Think, think! What would my sister do? Karin would be on her honeymoon by now. "Your brothers and everyone will think I'm a gold digger." They would make him get this annulled. He'd plead insanity or something.
"My family wants us to be happily
married." Dmitri looked so trusting, and I was so . . . rotten.
"Don't you want them to be here?"
"At present, I have some matters to resolve with them. It's not important. What's important is you. What does your instinct tell you?"
No prenup? "That you're too good to be true, big guy." All my life I'd wondered how people could be so stupid as to get grifted. If something seems too good to be true, it motherfucking is, idiots.
"I'm not," he said. "There are things . . . issues I need you to face with me. We will prevail; we will be happy."
Issues? How vague. But could they possibly be worse than the cartel's threat of a burning tire?
"And when I make you my wife, you will be looked after no matter what might happen to me."
Happen to him? Freaked out, I cried, "Are you dying?"
His tone was almost amused when he said, "No, moy angel. But I want you to be a Sevastyan. It will make everything easier."
Victoria Sevastyan. Get the hell out! "This move would put us both firmly in the crazy camp. I don't know anything about you."
"I was born to make you happy. To protect you. Marry me, and I will free you. I will give you the entire goddamned world."
Free me? "You don't know anything about me either!"
"Do I not? I have identified the most beautiful, intelligent, talented female I will ever meet. Added to that, she is a wanton who makes my body burn." My cheeks flushed; my family was hearing this. "I will never find her equal. Why would I not want to secure her for my own?"
He sounded so logical. Where was the knee-jerk angst of before?
Dmitri cupped my face. "You said when you look at me a spell comes over you. Let it. Because I feel the same way when I look at you, and I've given myself up to it. Just surrender."
My eyes pricked with tears. Real ones. I blurted out, "I don't love you." I could imagine my family gazing heavenward. Silly little Vice, gumming up the works.
Dmitri canted his head, trying to read my expression. "Could you?"
As I considered his question, moments and impressions played in my mind. . . .
His teasing tone as I'd ogled his ass. The way I fit on his lap. My protectiveness toward him. The connection I felt when he drew my forehead to his. How he'd beheld my body as if it were a gift he'd treasure forever. His touch. His kiss.
I told him the truth: "Yes. I could."
He offered me his hand. Cuts remained across his palms from his nails. Because he'd fought to hold out last night. To keep his promise to me.
How could I not take that hand?
His eyes lightened to gold. "You're going to be my wife, aren't you?" His lips curled. His first half-smile.
My heart thudded. And. I. Was. Done.
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In front of the justice of the peace, I fidgeted.
The ring was like a brand around my finger. The fit was perfect, but I kept banging my cheekbone every time I tucked my hair behind my ear--a nervous tell I'd trained myself out of when little.
Of course, I had no ring for Dmitri, since I hadn't had the time or the money to buy one. But standing here empty-handed still felt weird.
Since I'd met him, my life had been like quicksand; the more I tried to right myself--to do right by my family and by Dmitri--the deeper I sank with him. As if fate wouldn't have it any other way.
What were his issues? What would he do when I asked for a divorce?
A traitorous thought arose. What if I . . . didn't?
Sounding so proud to be marrying me, Dmitri had already said, "I do," in a deep, resounding voice.
I was really about to get hitched. Not really really. But it seemed genuine.
My turn. I met his eyes. As Dmitri had asked of me, I let the spell take over. As if from a million miles away, I heard myself murmur, "I do."
When the man said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife," my lips parted on a pent-up breath.
I could see a new emotion in Dmitri's gaze, and it frightened me more than any red flag.
Burning in his eyes was . . . hope.
CHAPTER 21
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"The property begins here," Dmitri told me as the limo from the private airport turned onto a winding drive.
Gigantic sequoias flanked the way. Their shade was damp and green, so different from Vegas.
At every second on the plane ride here, I'd expected him to regret his rash behavior. Instead I'd detected relief. He'd proudly introduced me--to the pilot, the flight attendant, and his bodyguards--as his wife, Victoria Sevastyan. When he'd taken a brief call from Aleks, Dmitri had said my name a few times in their conversation, his gaze falling on me, satisfaction brimming in his eyes.
When I'd told him his jet was badass, he'd corrected me: "Our jet." Then he'd suggested I contact my family and update them while he made a couple of business calls.
To manage his empire? I could be a supportive fake wife. "Of course. Take your time."
I'd furtively snapped a pic of the ring to text, then dialed our conference line, keeping my end of the conversation as bland as possible. Pandemonium had reigned in the immediate family, everyone talking over each other. I kept picturing the Muppets overturning the Muppet Theater.
Dad, Al, and Gram wanted me to keep my new husband and be a happy billionairess girl. As Dad had said, "Sevastyan's mad for you, and we'll work out something on our end. We always do."
Mom, Pete, and Karin wanted me to "lose" the ring, smuggling it to them. After all, Dmitri would have it insured, and the take would be plenty to pay off the cartel for good.
Al had estimated its worth at . . . eight million.
Once the debt was squared, they suggested reconvening on this whole "marriage to a gull" problem. Because grifting wasn't just a job; it was a way of life.
Benji casually mentioned that a nine-figure divorce settlement wouldn't go amiss.
I'd never leave my family to the wolves. Two options remained. . . .
Now I glanced at my husband, sitting beside me in the limo.
He held himself very still, staring at me, taking in my reactions. How could he possibly read me when I didn't even understand what I was feeling? I knew only one thing for certain: Dmitri Sevastyan's generosity and trust had floored me.
Before I'd hung up earlier, Gram had asked, "Did you tell him the truth when you said you could love him?"
My face had burned to recall some of the other things Dmitri had told me just prior to that question (cough, wanton, cough). But again, I'd admitted the truth: "Yes."
What if I lose the ring and gain a husband? Then I wouldn't be such a bad person.
Maybe he needed me to defend him and his ridiculous wealth--from people like me. I could identify and ward off cons. I could protect him.
But keeping him would mean distancing myself from my past--and my family, to an extent. Rich people and con artists . . . cats and dogs.
Barely able to look him in the eye, I turned and surveyed the forest.
"I think you will like our new home," he said, "but if you don't, we will buy more houses until you feel at home."
The second man today to call his house my home.
Had Dmitri's fight with Brett been only hours ago? My ex would hear that my wedding had taken place; everyone would. I didn't want to hurt Brett needlessly, but this news would force him to finally move on.
"You have been quiet since we left the courthouse," Dmitri said. "And you hardly ate lunch." A four-course affair with silver and china, served at thirty thousand feet. "Again, I struggle to read you. Just don't . . . don't regret this, Vika."
I turned to him, my nerves getting the better of me. "You are going to regret it! You're going to wake up and realize what you've done." Again I told him, "You don't know anything about me."
He parted his lips to say something, then clearly reth
ought it. "I know enough."
"Would you really have told me good-bye today?"
"Never," he said like a promise.
I narrowed my eyes. "Then you lied."
"Did I?"
Say yes or say good-bye. Tricksy Russian!
"Perhaps I manipulated you into this"--oh, not quite, Dmitri--"but I will never lie to you."
My family had maneuvered him, plotting in the background, using Brett in the service of our biggest con.
Dmitri reached for his briefcase on the opposite seat. "I had my lawyers draw up a contract for you." He pulled a folder out. "Here. I printed it before we landed." Our jet had an office. Natch. "Read this, and sign it."
Ah, the dreaded postnup. With all that talk about trust and spells and potentially love, I'd found myself getting caught up in the fairy-tale-esque nature of our courtship. Now reality reared its head.
Because fairy tales didn't exist.
Though I would probably be divorced soon, I felt a twinge of disappointment in him. I opened the folder, finding only a couple of pages. One was the postnup, the second an identical copy. Both had been signed by Dmitri in a bold, sharp scrawl.
I read it, my bemusement deepening. "This . . . this says once the marriage is consummated, I get half of everything in the case of a divorce. Pretty much no questions asked."
"I want you to feel comfortable about the international ramifications of this marriage. That contract will be filed in both the United States and Russia."
Talk about trust. Or else craziness. "Are you dicking with me?" I would take a picture of the page and text it at the earliest.
"No. I am not."
Only one thing about the wording pinged my suspicion radar. "Is a consummation clause standard in Russian marriage contracts?" To work my con, I'd have to sleep with him. It fully sank in that Dmitri Sevastyan and I would be having sex. Soon.
"Is that objectionable?"
"No, of course not."
"If you will . . ." He gave me a pen.
I flattened my left hand on the page to sign, but my ring glared at me accusingly. Damn it! I faced Dmitri. "Look, why don't we take care of business stuff tomorrow when you've had a chance to mull everything over?" asked the grifter who was one signature away from five hundred million dollars.
I was having a crisis of identity! All because of this man. His craziness was catching!