Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “They don't know shit. They know you're going to be my wife. And they know that I want you. They know we have things to discuss. Don't overthink it.”
I entwine her hand with mine, still high from what just happened. I suspected that Lydia liked sex like this. I've known for a long time that she and I are well-suited for each other. The possibilities that lie before us…
“If you say so,” she says. And for the first time since she came into my custody, Lydia is almost… demure. Quiet. It's like the raging storm inside her has settled to a simmer.
I bend down and kiss her forehead. “You're a good girl, Lydia. I know sometimes I scare you. But I don't want you to be afraid of me.” I bend and kiss her cheek. “I know that talk is cheap, and you may not believe that I want you—that I want you more than anything else in the entire world. I get that. And that's okay. You'll know.”
“What?” she asks, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of fear.
I hold her gaze, my voice low and intense. “You'll see how much you mean to me… and why.”
When we get back to the house, the dining room is cleared, and everyone is in the living room. My mother has large trays of pastries and chocolates laid out for us.
I lean in close to Lydia as we walk in. “You see this?” I gesture to the spread. “When we were little, my father had strict rules. Everything had to be eaten in the dining room. No snacking in bedrooms, no casual breakfasts in the kitchen, and absolutely no dessert in the living room.”
Lydia raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “And now?”
I smirk, nodding toward my mother. “Now, she’s in charge. Things are different. She likes to break his rules.”
Lydia smiles, understanding the subtle rebellion. “I like her already.”
“And if something spills, we clean it up,” my mother says, smiling warmly. “Lydia, let's talk about what kind of cake you want. Now that we have more time, we can actually plan this wedding.” She practically rubs her hands together with glee.
“Honestly,” Lydia says, “I like all kinds of cake. Well, I don’t like vanilla.”
A corner of my lips quirks up. “Me neither, baby,” I whisper in her ear. Her cheeks color, and she continues as if I didn’t say anything, “Red velvet, carrot cake, chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, chocolate cake with chocolate frosting…”
She looks down at her curvy figure and her hips. “Maybe that's my problem.”
“Oh, stop,” my mother says. “Who doesn't love cake? Let's go take a look at some options.”
“With me, Mom,” I tell her. “I want to plan this with her.”
As we walk over to the side table, where my mom has an array of catalogs and her laptop, I lean in and whisper into Lydia's ear and pinch her ass. “If you make one more self-deprecating comment about your body, you're going over my knee when we get home for that.”
“Viktor,” she says, her cheeks flushing, but a surge of power courses through me. I may have just had her, but I want her all over again. And she absolutely is getting a spanking for that.
“Take a look,” my mom says, spreading the glossy catalogs out. “How can we make it so that we have a variety of different cakes?” Lydia asks, stroking her chin thoughtfully.
“Oh, that's easy,” Harper says. “You do cake shooters. Like these little glasses with a variety of different flavors so we can try different ones. You have your own wedding cake in your favorite flavor, and then we have a groom's cake in his favorite flavor, and then we have trays and trays of cake.”
“I'm already getting a sugar rush just thinking about it,” Mikhail says.
“That's fine,” Aria says, her eyes twinkling. She winks at Lydia. “More for me.”
As Lydia peruses the catalogs, I walk over and put a variety of desserts on a plate.
We sit in the living room, eating dessert, drinking cocktails, and planning our wedding. But what I really want is to take her home with me, so it’s only the two of us. What I really want is to make sure we have a plan in place for self-defense. What I really want is for her to be married, safe, and by my side.
Mikhail walks over to us and shows me his phone. “Interesting development. You have a minute?”
I glance at Lydia, then back at him. “Yeah, let's talk.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lydia
“I’ve spoken with the Ivanov captain. He’s got some interesting data, but it’s all encrypted, and there’s foreign language embedded I don’t know.”
Hope surges in my chest.
This. This is something I can do. Finally, instead of being a damn wallflower waiting to be protected or rescued, I can actually help.