“Shut the fuck up,” I bark at him and scoop her up in my arms. “All right,” I say, checking my watch. “We've got two minutes to get back. Hang on, honey.”
Improbably, she’s laughing, clinging to me as I race back through the garden, past the stunned valet who is still standing there, holding the keys to the Porsche, and through the side entrance, making our way back to the ballroom. Just outside the door, she wiggles. "Let me down." Craning her neck back far enough that I can hear a little crack, she examines me.
“You've got some blood here,” she says, using her sleeve to wipe it off my cheekbone. “And on your hand.” I pull out my pocket square and wipe the blood off my knuckles rapidly.
“What about you?” I cup her face in my hands, looking at her carefully. She looks a bit unhinged, still grinning, but other than her poor wrists, she appears unharmed.
“I’m just fine,” she says, straightening my lapel. “Let's do this.” Slipping her arm in mine, she walks back in with me smiling shyly, as if we’d just had a quickie in the linen closet, which would explain the hair that neither one of us could fix. Her updo is listing toward the left and curls are escaping in all directions. I doubt my hair looks much better.
Father meets us by the dais. “Ava, will you join Ella and me?” She nods, giving me a double thumbs up, which looks ridiculous but oddly endearing.
Adam is glaring at me as his bride's sister is just finishing her speech. Ava’s sitting with my parents, who look completely unaffected by what just happened. Mother scoots her chair closer to Ava's and puts her arm around her protectively as I make my way back to the head table.
There's a round of sentimental“ooo’s”and“aah’s”and then applause as Rachel’s sister finishes her speech, handing the mic to me with a little flirtatious smile. I take the mic and notice there's a smear of blood on my sleeve. Adjusting my cuffs so my jacket hides it, I smile at the crowd, bringing up the mic.
“There's a dozen stories that Adam has expressly forbidden for me to tell you,” I say pleasantly, causing a little ripple of laughter through the ballroom. “But the one heneglectedto refuse me was an unfortunate night we had back in London. We met at Cambridge University as undergrads…” I launch into the story which involved an extremely drunken night, three equally soused classmates, and a stolen llama.
“I'm just assuring you, Rachel," I smile at his bride. “That Adam may look innocent, like a solid, stable family man. However, when required, he can be a wild-eyed lunatic, and then the smoothest charmer you've ever met… which is why the university police chose not to arrest us. You're in good hands.” I raise my glass of champagne. “To the happy couple. May your love be as enduring as Adam’s legendary hangovers.”
Adam drinks to the toast before giving a shaky sigh of relief and turning to Rachel, giving her a kiss. “It's all true,” he says earnestly, staring into her eyes. “Especially that last part where we didn't get arrested.”
She pinches his chin fondly. “I knew you had it in you,” she says, “and somehow, the whole stolen llama thing just makes youhotter.” They kiss to another round of“Awws”and I hand the mic back, smiling urbanely.
Looking at our table, I see that Will is gone, no doubt comforting his hysterical wife and daughter. Ava is sitting tall, clapping for me with an unhinged grin on her face as she shoots me a wink. This stubborn, courageous woman…
Mystubborn, courageous woman.
Chapter Seventeen
In which there issucha kiss…
Ava…
Dmitri and I are dancing. He finished off his speech in style, with much toasting and cheering from the guests. By then, I'd gulped down a couple of glasses of champagne, feeling giddy and weirdly victorious. I'm not sure why, it's not likeIshot those assholes. But sailing back into our seats with Ella and Maksim made me feel powerful, like them, how both look completely unaffected by what just happened. I felt like I belonged.
One of Maksim's men came over to our table and whispered in his ear, getting a regal nod in return. Maksim put his arm around Ella, murmuring to her and she sagged a little in relief. Taking pity on me, she whispers, "They found Daniil and Ivan, my bodyguards. They were knocked out with a stun gun and shoved into a storage space for chairs and tables. They're alive."
"Oh, thank god." I smile gratefully and she squeezes my hand.
So, dancing with the best man while spitefully enjoying the glares of a good 76.3% of the female wedding guests and around 21.9% of the men, feels like a boss move.
"Are you certain you want to stay? Your wrists are still bloody. We should get them treated," he says with a frown as my abraded skin escapes my sleeve.
"I've had worse in the hospital. And not even the ER," I brag a little. "A big lumberjack-type guy came roaring down the hallway, fleeing the lab because he was terrified of needles. He plowed me and two security guards over like we were the last bowling pins he needed to knock over for a strike. I still got up and went into a three-hour surgery. These assholes didn't rank in the top ten of injuries I've suffered."
Dmitri frowns, turning us to avoid a tipsy, giggling couple. "I'm thinking that it brought up memories of-"
"Tell you what," I say. "Can I reserve the right to have a debilitating panic attack later on? A full meltdown - if I need it - that will involve excessive weeping and rocking back and forth?"
Dmitri chuckles, his grin feels warm and approving.
Finally, after Dmitri shakes a dozen hands and hugs a happily drunk Adam, we're ready to go home. Ella - of course - keeps an enormous and proactively well-stocked first aid kit in every one of their SUVs, so she insists on wrapping my wrists before she allows us to leave.
It's not until we walk into the entryway of Dmitri's penthouse that the bubbly, fizzy feeling I had from before evaporates along with my momentary surge of confidence. "Your plan didn't work," I say bluntly. "They still got to me."
"Theyalmostgot to you," he corrects me, leaning against the doorway to the living room. He puts one arm up, his hand resting on the molding over the door and again, I am struck by the size of this man.
"I mean, there was a roving pack of bodyguards and they still got me," I say. "I'm grateful that your two bodyguards were only knocked out and not killed, because I don't think I could stand it if someone had died for me."
