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I guess this is as close as someone like me—hideous inside and out—should be allowed near such perfection.
I reach out with my hand and trace the long thornless stem wrapped in a yellow silk ribbon with gold details. There has been one left for me after every performance for the past six months.
“We’re signing a truce with the Russians,” he says and looks up at me. “And you’re getting married to one of Petrov’s men next week.”
“If you don’t do it, I’ll give them Milene.”
I am not dying because of him, again.
“She doesn’t speak, Mikhail.”
“She isn’t deaf. There was a car accident when she was a teenager. I don’t have any details. It’s all Scardoni shared.”
I hope she won’t run off screaming upon seeing me, because I will be chasing.
Sold. I’m being sold like cattle to ensure someone else’s goals bear fruit.
walking down the aisle by myself.
I have no intention of having the man who decided to use me as collateral damage play a dutiful father.
“I don’t force women, Bianca. Is that clear?”
No one gets to speak like that about my husband. We may have an arranged marriage, but he’s treated me better in the last twenty-four hours than some of my family members ever have.
“Now, let’s clear up a few things,” Mikhail says. “You touch my wife again, in any way, I cut off your hand. I hear you speak badly about her, I cut out your tongue. You dare to even think about hitting her ever again, I cut off your head. Am I clear, Bruno?”
Mikhail has a child.
“This is my daughter, Lena.”
It’s been so long since I’ve wanted to feel a woman’s bare body next to mine, but now I do. And for someone with skin contact issues, that’s a highly disturbing realization.
I wonder how a creature so painfully beautiful can bear to look at me and not flinch?
Did you ask what happened? To his face I mean.” “No. He’ll tell me when he sees fit. I won’t ask.
“And it doesn’t bother you? The scars? The eye patch?” “No. I find Mikhail sexy as hell.
He’s already given me the short version of his childhood story, which wasn’t a nice one, then a report on all the girls he’s dated for the past six months. There were at least twenty of them. After that, he gave me a quick lesson on how to change a flat tire. He clearly has no problem with me not being able to contribute to the conversation, because he hasn’t stopped babbling for two hours.
Hahahaha Denis
Mikhail turns his gaze toward me, looks down at my hand on the work surface, then tilts his head to the side, offering me his chin. Slowly, I reach out and brush away the remnants of the flour using the back of my hand, taking slightly more time than necessary.
Bianca tilts her head and all her hair slides from her back to the side, and a few locks end up touching the floor tiles. I bend and gather her hair with my left hand, lifting it off the floor.
Honestly this man
The neural pathways in my brain must have snapped and rearranged themselves, because in that instant, I decide I’m done. My issues with skin contact can go fuck themselves. I grab Bianca’s hand, pull her to my side, and wrap my arm around her. Not close enough. She’s not close enough. I tighten my arm around her and stand with her back plastered to my front. The pressure in my chest eases. That will do. I don’t need a shrink to interpret my actions. When a man has already lost all he’s held dear, it’s normal for him to become slightly unhinged and scared it may happen again.
“You take my breath away,” he whispers in my ear.
But Bianca . . . I want to touch her everywhere.
My chest and back are in a much worse state than my arms, and I have no idea how she’ll react upon seeing them.
If I was a better man, I’d send her away, annul the marriage, and set her free. I guess I’m a bad man, though, because I don’t plan on letting her go.
He crosses his arms, places his fist over his mouth, shakes his head, and then bursts out laughing. It’s rich and throaty, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so beautiful when he laughs.
It was meant to be a quick kiss, but the moment I feel his mouth on mine, all reason flies out the window.
“Ty luch solntsa v pasmurnyy den’, Bianca,” he says into my lips, kisses me again, and slowly lowers me to the ground.
“Eyes off my wife, kid,”
“Daddy kissed you. And he held your hand. I think Daddy really, really likes you, Bianca. Daddy doesn’t like to touch people.”
“For the shrink thing to work, Mikhail, you need to actually talk to the guy about the things troubling you. For most of the things that annoy me, I signed documents saying I’d keep my mouth shut or end up in jail. Or worse.”
My sophisticated little wife has just rammed the pursuers’ vehicle.
There are a few patches of untouched skin, but other than that, his whole back is a tapestry of scar tissue.
“Turn around, Mikhail.”
Mikhail turns to face me, and the movement is so quick and sudden, I flinch. He’s looking at me like I’ve grown another head.
“Jesus, Bianca.” He closes his eyes and touches his forehead to mine. “How can you bear to look at me?”
“I think . . .” My throat screams in pain, as the cracked whisper leaves my lips, but I continue anyway. “You are . . . hot.”
I don’t care about the scars or his eye. To me, he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever met.
Composed. Not a hair out of place. Looking straight into my eyes. Wicked, wicked man. The silent types are always the most dangerous.
“I was eleven. Father was driving me to training. It was Sunday, around seven in the morning. There was a party the previous night, they were celebrating something. He was still slightly drunk. We crashed.
“They said I wasn’t breathing when the ambulance came. They had to intubate me on the spot. The paramedic who did it was young and scared. He messed up something. Damaged my vocal cords.
“The way you look at my Bianca. Like you would lay your body over a field of burning coals, so she could cross it without burning her feet.”
I grin. “You are so sexy when you sign, husband.
My beautiful, dark husband. Can’t he see how crazy I am for him? “Kiss me,” I utter.
His nostrils flare, and the next moment, he crashes his lips to mine.
“So, you’ve been stalking me around the mall?” “Yes.” “How long?” “Three hours.” “You have a problem, you know?” “Yes, I do.”
“If anyone dared to touch you, I would chop off their hand.
