“Would you like to have Madison and Viktor over?” Max asked as she curled into his side while they watched his favorite crime drama one evening after Maddie’s return to town.

  They shared similar taste in music and most television shows. Their workout regimens were complementary and they had the same favorite area restaurants.

  But she wasn’t a huge fan of the crime drama they were watching, so she’d been texting with Maddie while it played.

  “Huh? What?”

  He turned down the television, a one-hundred-and-twenty-eight-inch screen that dropped down from the ceiling. “I said, you should invite Viktor and Madison over for dinner.”

  No, he’d asked if she wanted to. Apparently, to Max it was the same thing. “Uh…”

  “We’ll have it catered if you like.”

  Romi actually liked Max’s housekeeper’s cooking. She was no Mrs. K, but the woman was really talented at dinners that did well straight from the fridge or with an easy reheat. “That’s not…I mean…Maddie doesn’t know about us.”

  Max gave her ring a disbelieving look. “How can she not?”

  “I…uh…I didn’t tell her?”

  “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  “Telling you.”

  “How did she miss the ring?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

  “Um…I took it off.”

  Max picked up the remote and pressed a button. The television turned off and the screen lifted slowly toward the ceiling with a soft whir.

  “Was your program over?” Romi asked, pretty sure it hadn’t been, but she hadn’t been paying attention.

  “No.”

  “Oh, um…”

  “That’s a lot of ums for a woman who rarely feels the need for the word.”

  She didn’t have an answer for that. He was right, she wasn’t used to stumbling over her words.

  He turned so their gazes caught. “Why haven’t you told your sister-by-choice that you are engaged to be married and living with your fiancé?” Max’s lips thinned and he did not sound happy.

  “I…”

  “You are not thinking about backing out.”

  “No.”

  “You said you wanted this.”

  “I do.” Couldn’t he tell how much she enjoyed being with him?

  Dark gray eyes narrowed. “Then why?”

  “They just got back from their honeymoon.” It sounded lame, even to her own ears.

  He wasn’t impressed, either. “Nearly two weeks ago.”

  Romi had been hiding her ring and new living situation for weeks? It hadn’t seemed that long. “Maddie is still settling into being married, though.”

  “And you sharing your own plans would somehow impede that?” Disbelief laced his tone.

  “No. I don’t know.” Romi didn’t really know why she didn’t want to tell Maddie about Max.

  “Viktor knows.”

  “What?” Romi demanded, sitting up in agitation. “How?”

  “I told him.”

  “Why would you?”

  “We are friends. More to the point why wouldn’t you?”

  “I…” Romi’s gaze skittered around the room, seeking inspiration.

  She’d discovered her whole avoidance thing didn’t work with Max. Not only was he like a pit bull with a meaty bone when it came to discussing stuff he thought was important, but she also found herself wanting, even needing to deal with the real stuff when that real stuff included him.

  Only not when it came to telling her SBC apparently.

  “She’s going to have to know or how will you ask her to be your matron of honor?” Max asked reasonably.

  “For a courthouse wedding?” That was one thing Romi hadn’t been worried about. “That’s a little over-the-top.”

  He frowned. “Who said we were getting married in a courthouse?”

  “Where else would we get married?”

  “Holy Virgin Cathedral.” His tone said he didn’t understand why that hadn’t been obvious to her.

  “What? I thought…it’s a business thing for you.”

  “It’s a marriage and we’re having a traditional Russian wedding. Mama is coming over tomorrow evening to discuss plans.”

  “Tomorrow?” Had he lost his mind? “No. That’s impossible.”

  “Are you backing out?” he asked again.

  “No!” Where did he get his ideas? “I told you I wasn’t having second thoughts. It’s just, I barely know your mother.”

  “All the more reason to have her for dinner. You can invite Madison and Viktor to join us.”

  “Get off the invite-them-to-dinner kick. When were you going to tell me your mother was coming?”

  “I just did.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He made a visible grab for patience. “Romi, my mother wishes to get to know you.”

  “She’s already met me.”

  “And yet you barely know her,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

  “Fine. So, she’s coming for dinner. I’m not inviting Maddie.”

  “Why not?”

  Romi thought about it, even as the sheer panic going through her did not abate, and realized she could think of no better buffer for this dinner with her future mother-in-law than her SBC.

  Darn it. “She’s going to be mad I didn’t tell her.” Really mad.

  And Romi wouldn’t blame her SBC, not even a little. She should have said something. Romi didn’t understand why it was so hard for her, but she wasn’t backing out and that meant telling Maddie about her upcoming marriage.

  “She’ll forgive you.”

  “I’m not ready to tell her.”

  He didn’t ask why, just waited for her to say something.

  “I always said I’d only marry a man who loved me as much as my dad loved my mom.”

  “I know,” Max replied warily, like love was this really scary topic that could get up and bite him.

  “She’s going to think you love me.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s a lie.” And Romi didn’t want to lie to Maddie, but she wasn’t willing to tell her SBC the truth, either.

  That Romi was marrying a man she loved with every fiber of her being but who didn’t believe in the emotion.

  “What are you planning to do then? Wait to tell her when our first child is on the way?” Max asked with no small amount of exasperation. “I’m pretty sure Viktor will spill the beans before that.”

  “We aren’t planning to get pregnant right away. We agreed.”

  “I was being facetious.”

  “Well, don’t.” Humor wasn’t registering right now.

  Max sighed and scooted closer, pulling Romi into his arms. “Madison married Viktor for reasons unrelated to love. She is not going to judge you.”

  “I know, but she won’t understand, either. I’m not being coerced.” Even if Max had done his best to put the blackmail bid on the table.

  He was silent for a few seconds and then he asked, “Does she know Harry is undergoing treatment for his alcoholism?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think she deserves to?”

  “Yes, of course she does.”

  “So, tell her.”

  “It’s not so easy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m waiting for you to change your mind,” she burst out and then covered her mouth with her hand, shocked by her own words.

  “About what?” he asked. “The merger with Grayson Enterprises is a done deal. Your dad isn’t leaving the treatment facility.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “What then?”

  “What if you decide you don’t want to marry me?” she asked, stunned as the words revealed the worries she hadn’t realized were plaguing her.

  Max didn’t look shocked. He looked patient. Aargh.

  “Romi, dorogaya, I am the one who blackmailed you. Remember?” He tugged until she was straddling his lap.

  She pressed close. “I like it when you call me that, not just in the bedroom.”

  “I will remember as you should how you came to be wearing my ring and it was not some great feminine plot that I’m going to wiggle out of soon.”

  “Right.” Because they’d already signed the prenup and applied for the license.

  Only she was getting almost everything she’d ever dreamed of. She was marrying the man of her dreams. They were planning a family together. Her dad was on his way to healthy. It was all so good, she was terrified everything was going to fall apart.

  “You are mine, dorogaya. I am not letting you go.”

  She wanted to believe that. So much. “I thought we were just waiting to get married until my dad was out of treatment.” At the courthouse. No fanfare.

  Fanfare. A church wedding. That all just made it real. And real things could be destroyed or lost.

  “We are.”

  “But you want a big wedding.”

  “Yes.”

  “At the church.”

  “Naturally.”

  “So, we have to set a date.” She knew that only a significant donation to the restoration fund had gotten Maddie and Viktor their wedding date.

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother wants to help plan the wedding.”

  “I am her only child.”

  “I haven’t had a mother in six years.” And her dad was in no condition to plan a wedding.

  Though she very much wanted him to give her away.

  Max cocked his head to one side. “I thought Jenna died when you were three.”

  “She did, but Madison’s mom took over. Helene Archer was my mother like Maddie is my sister.”

  “By choice.”

  “Yes. She loved me.”

  “Mama will adore you as well.”

  “Chance would be a fine thing.” It was another thing her friend Kim from the U.K. said.

  Sometimes those Britishisms were more fitting than anything else she could think to say.

  He laughed. The jerk. Was still laughing.

  “Stop. It’s not funny.”

  “This panic? Is hilarious. My mother will adore you. Madison will be thrilled for you. We will be married.”

  “Oh.” She blinked up at him, biting her lower lip. “Maybe you could say it again.”

  “We will be married in exactly five weeks, three days.”

  “What? You said we were waiting for my dad.”

  “He’ll get a day pass and we’ll have a dry reception.”

  “You would do that for him?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Where is all this coming from?”

  “I don’t know.” The knowledge she was falling deeper and deeper in love every day and he was just as committed today as he’d been a year ago to keeping that emotion out of his repertoire?

  Max tugged her into his lap and tilted her face up toward his with a hand under chin. “You are mine, Ramona Grayson. You can’t take that promise back. We will marry in the cathedral and proclaim this truth before our friends and family.”

  “Doesn’t sound much like a business arrangement.”

  “I am at heart still a Russian man.”

  “So, you have a soul even if you are a corporate shark.”

  “I thought tsar?” he teased.

  “That, too. Maybe they’re the same.”

  “Could be. Some of the tsars were known for their bloodthirsty ruthlessness.”

  “You are ruthless.” And why that didn’t scare her when the happiness within her grasp did was one of life’s little mysteries.

  “But you are in my circle of protection.”

  “So, I have nothing to fear from you.”

  “No.”

  If only that were true. “I love you, Max.”

  Sometimes, she just had to say it out loud. Though, come to think of it, this might be the first time she’d said those three little words to him.

  The way he stopped moving and talking and just stared at her indicated that might actually be the case. She said, “I do, you know.”

  “You did say you couldn’t imagine your life without me in it.”

  Which was as good as an admission. “Yes, I did.”

  “I will treasure your love.”

  “Will you?” How could he if he thought it was a weak emotion.

  “It is a gift I will not take for granted.”

  “Even if you can’t return it.”

  He winced. “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, tell your SBC.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  He sealed her promise with his lips.

  She returned the kiss with enthusiasm, helping him when nimble masculine fingers began unbuttoning the oversized tie-dyed men’s-style dress shirt worn with her leggings.

  His Armani sweater was an easy tug and off, and then there was just the black silk T-shirt, which followed with a ripple of his muscles.

  She explored his chest, rubbing her body against his. This was always good. No matter when, how often or what they did together, it was good. Better than good. Incredible.

  Their sexual compatibility couldn’t be questioned. So, why couldn’t he take the next step and love her?

  If he wanted to know why she didn’t want to have dinner with his mother? Maybe it was because Romi would rather smack the woman for teaching Max to eschew love in favor of pragmatism and carefully cultivated ruthlessness.

  He showed that ruthlessness now, teasing Romi to the point of whimpering need, before lifting her and sliding her onto his condom-covered erection. She was on top, but he drove the coupling, thrusting up into her and hitting that spot inside that made fireworks go off inside Romi’s head. He held her hips in place, controlling the depth and angle of his thrusts.

  They never broke eye contact through the long minutes of coupling and intense pleasure. She saw the way his skin flushed with the increased blood pressure that came before climax.

  He could easily see the way her hair grew damp around her face from perspiration.

  Bottomless pools, dark and mysterious, his eyes bored into hers, speaking messages she couldn’t decipher, but that increased her bliss all the same.

  She’d learned to appreciate the scent of his desire and even more so their combined musk. It was a heady fragrance that added to her desire, but also her security in their intimacy.

  This was theirs alone. No one else combined with him for the exact same perfume of lust.

  The way he inhaled deeply showed he enjoyed it just as much.

  “My love,” she gasped as her body hovered on the precipice of ultimate pleasure.

  That dark gaze flared with something intense and his thrusting grew stronger and erratic.

  “You like that word,” she said with wonder.

  “On your lips.”

  But not on his own. She refused to let that dampen the moment between them.

  She simply reveled in the joy of intimacy and how much he clearly liked knowing he owned her heart.

  “You are mine,” he said, reflecting her thoughts.

  “You are mine, too.” She needed them both to acknowledge that fact.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, satisfaction and pleasure warring for supremacy in her heart. “With no expiration date.”

  He didn’t reply, just increased his pace, his expression so intent, it sent shivers throughout her oversensitized body.

  With knowing fingers, he shifted her and changed his own angle so his pelvic bone pressed into her pleasure spot on every upward piston of his hips.

  Mini explosions of delight accompanied each movement, pleasure spiraling inside until it released in a cataclysm that made her scream and bow her body in shattering ecstasy.

  They were cuddled in the bed after their shower, his body an octopus around her like she’d grown accustomed to, her breathing even and shallow as she hovered at the edge of sleep.

  “You are mine,” he whispered into her hair. “No expirations.”

  It was a huge admission, even if he made it when he thought she’d already fallen under the influence of the sandman.

  * * *

  Maddie took the news of Romi’s engagement way better than she expected. “I thought there was something between you and that guy.”

  “Something big.”

  “You love him.”

  “I do.”

  “It’s catching.”

  “So, you finally admitted it to yourself?” Romi asked her SBC.

  “I did.” She glowed with the kind of happiness Romi had rarely witnessed in her life. “He loves me, too.”

  “Oh, honey. That’s wonderful. I mean I knew it, I just didn’t know he’d admit it so quickly.” Romi ignored the flicker of regret that she couldn’t say the same, her genuine joy for her SBC big enough to cover it easily.

  “Yeah, well something happened with my dad.”

  “Tell me about it,” Romi demanded.

  “He threatened to have me committed…to stop me from taking control of my inheritance from the Madison Trust when I turn twenty-five.”

  Romi was shocked. Even Jeremy Archer wasn’t that awful. “That jerk!”

  “That’s kind of what I thought.”

  Romi experienced a guilty twinge. “I think I know why he made the threat.”

  “Why?” Maddie asked.

  “Because I asked him about the paperwork you signed that spelled out my dad would get the shares to AIH in the Madison Family Trust once you gained control in a couple of weeks.”

 

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