“When should we get married then?” Katya asked, twirling fingers in my hair as we rested in each other’s arms.
“July.”
Our eyes locked, and she leaned forward to kiss me lightly on the mouth. My dick pulsed, wanting her again. I’d never have enough of her.
“July is my favorite,” she purred.
“And we need to find the perfect patch of woods,” I pressed on, trailing my index finger down her stomach, the sheet no longer wrapped around her but draped across both our lower bodies. “A clearing for dancing. All the twinkling lights in the trees, so many that it looks like stars have fallen to earth. Hunter green table clothes and dark red roses with sprays of baby’s breath. And we’ll have every Russian food you can imagine, to keep your father happy.”
Katya had frozen in my arms, and she stared at me disbelieving. “You remember? From my dream diary?”
“Katya,” I murmured, stroking a thumb across her beautiful mouth, “I remember everything.”
We kissed again then, our mouths joining together and tongues twirling around one another. Pain or not, wound or not, I had to have her again.
I rolled us, lifting my body over her and ignoring her protests that I needed to be more careful. I pressed my already-hard length against her, and I sunk inch by inch into the one woman I wanted, over all others in the world, for the rest of my goddamn life.
Epilogue
“Look at you both,” Evelina Vasiliev held her hands like she was praying, the tips of her fingers rested gently against her mauve painted lips. Before her stood her daughter, and her future daughter-in-law, both dressed so beautifully that she could not help the tears pooling in her eyes. Thank god she’d told the makeup artist to use waterproof mascara, though that should be a given considering all mother’s cry when their children are wed.
And she was marrying off not one child today, but both her precious children.
How had time moved so quickly? How was it already July, already the place and the hour for her nest to become well and truly empty?
“Mother don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup.” Katya stepped forward quickly, her dress trailing behind her in row after row of large flowers that ended in a spray of crystals. It was backless, cut right down to the small dimples in her beautiful back, but the front was high and regal, sheer material pooling around her neck and long sleeves ending in ribbons around her middle fingers to keep the points over her hands perfectly in place. Evelina had gasped the first time she saw it. It was fit for a Bratva princess, and it suited Katya so well. Far more than the gown back in Fiji.
Of course, the groom had been wrong then too.
Everything had been wrong.
So, when Nik and Katya had asked to delay the marriage and plan something proper back in the states, Evelina had given in quickly, and so too had Eduard. She had been right about her husband. He cared for his daughter more than his business; he had only been momentarily blinded to his truth.
Katya pulled a lace handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her dress and dabbed gently at her mother’s eyes. She had never seen her mother cry, and the sight of it was almost as lovely as the fact that she was marrying the love of her life today.
Marisha watched the exchange, happiness pooling in her stomach and fluttering. Of course, it wasn’t only the sight of her mother-in-law and sister-in-law being so tender together. There was something else making her smile, something growing inside that sparked pang after pang of pure and utter joy. She hadn’t even told Alex yet, not wanting their news to overshadow the wedding. A little Vasiliev, maybe a son with beautiful dark hair and stormy eyes like his father.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, and then quickly dropped it away, not wanting to betray herself before the time was right.
“Come, come.” Evelina reached for Marisha, calling her forward and taking one of Marisha’s hands and one of Katya’s as she continued to speak. “I cannot express my happiness on this day. You have made my heart so full.” She released Marisha’s hand and reached to push a curl from her soon-to-be daughter-in-law’s face and then cupped her chin gently. “I never thought that Alex would find love. I thought that we would have to force a union upon him simply to keep the bloodline going. Yet, he found you, and despite our initial misgivings, I cannot imagine a wife more perfect for him than you, my dear.”
Marisha blushed, looking down at the dress that had been handmade, bead by bead, by a New York designer who was typically booked years out, but was a personal friend of Evelina’s. It was palest blue, almost so light that it could pass for white, and it set off her milky skin and copper hair like fire against ice.
“We were wrong, Marisha, and I need you to know that we are aware that we were wrong because it is not an easy thing for us to admit. You make my son happy. Happier than I have ever seen him, and as a mother, I can ask no more than that.”
Evelina brought Marisha into her arms for one brief hug, pressing a slight kiss on either cheek. The Vasilievs had sentenced her parents to death, and this was something she had thought she could never forgive. Yet now she chose her love for Alexander over her hate for his family, and peace over the rage that had lived beneath the surface. In her heart she knew that her parents would want her to live in love.
The two weddings merged together meant that Katya hadn’t quite gotten the Christmas in July theme of her childhood diary, but in Evelina’s opinion, the mix of frost and evergreen that decorated the expanse of woods beyond the wedding tents was magnificent. It was her two children, twins yet so different, put on royal display so that they both could marry the choice of their hearts.
And a mother could not ask for more.
*
Eduard Vasiliev clapped both of his sons on the shoulders, causing them to nearly choke on their whiskey sours.
“So, which of you are giving me grandchildren first?” He crowed happily, knocking back his third drink and not noticing how both Alexander and Nikolai squirmed at his question.
The Bratva King was always like this when he felt safe, content in the future of not only the family business, but of the people he loved most in the world. It did not happen often, that he could truly let go and drink and laugh and joke.
