Ludmila fell into unintelligible mutters, and Oksana smiled at her grumpy mate.
“What about a political marriage to Alina?”
The fire in the hearth leaped up as Oleg turned to Mika. “Say that again.”
His chief boyar lifted an eyebrow. “What about apoliticalmarriage contract to Alina? It would not be a bad move politically.”
Oleg kept his expression even, though the fire in the hearth blazed hotter. “Did you forget I am already married?”
“In the church, yes.” Mika leaned forward. “Personally, yes. But we are talking about politics. A marriage contract with Alina Machabeli would be an alliance to a powerful regent. It would shore up both your borders against Arosh, and together, the two of you would control all the northern and eastern Black Sea ports. Saba’s daughters control the south now; Radu is in the east. If you and Alina merged empires?—”
“Perhaps you are correct, but this is not what I want.”
Mika sat back and lifted his hands. “What do you want then? For five years, we have played with Ivan, sabotaging him while you sneak around with Tatyana. She cannot publicly be your wife without losing the trust of her clan, so that leaves you a hundred years to cool your heels? Knyaz, this is not acceptable.”
Ludmila narrowed her eyes on Oleg. “You said Mika’s suggestionwasn’twhat you want.” She pointed at him. “That means you know what you do want.”
“Of course I do.” Oleg stretched out his legs, warming his feet by the now blazing fire.
“So?” Oksana leaned forward. “What is it?”
Oleg shrugged. “I want what I deserve. My empire and my wife. I want everything. And that is what I will have.”
Chapter 10
Tatyana
Tatyana curled up by the fire at her mother’s house in Wilga with Pushkin purring on her lap and a book in her hands.
She was trying to read more, and since her mother’s bookshelves were not strong on economic treatises, she was attempting to enjoy a suspense novel set on a small island in the Aegean.
The problem was, every time the narrator talked about the island—the olive groves bathed in afternoon heat or the wind that swept from the sea—Tatyana thought of sunshine, closed her eyes, and remembered the warm wash of color and heat.
It was starting to depress her. Perhaps she needed to read some of her mother’s Agatha Christie novels. It always seemed to be raining in England.
She closed the book and turned her thoughts to the last time she had been in the Mediterranean Sea, on a vampire-safe yacht that Oleg had personalized years ago. The weeks they could take away from the world on the yacht where some of the happiest times they had together.
Oleg drew and Tatyana danced in the moonlight, enjoying the sound system that poured music into every corner of thevery fancy boat. She was surrounded by water on the yacht—her element soothed her and made her strong.
She lifted her hand and stirred the simple glass of water in the tall glass beside her.
Her mother came into the living room. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me.”
“You just came from a week of seeing your man?—”
“I came from a weeklong business conference that my husband happened to be attending. I was working, Mama.”
“You were dancing at parties and seeing Oleg every night, no?”
Tatyana opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no point in arguing about vampire economic politics with her mother. “Yes, Mama.”
“Then what is wrong with you?”
There are rumors that my husband is secretly arranging a marriage with a Georgian vampire queen.
I had a week of seeing my lover every night, and now I’m irrationally angry with him that he never mentioned these rumors that I secretly fear are true.
