by Sienna Blake
“You love me? You forgive me?” I ask, unable to believe my ears. “Even after all that I did.”
“Of course.” She smiles against my mouth. I can’t help but smile too. She is the only sunshine I need. “After all, that’s what love is.”
This time, when I remove her clothes one by one, I do it slowly, reverently, with humble, shaking fingers. This time, when I lay her down on the mattress, I do it to worship her. To show her with my body all the things I feel that no words exist to say. Not in Russian. Not in English.
And when I sink into her beautiful body, her open, vulnerable body, I know…
I am home.
70
____________
Alena
Six months later…
“Honestly, Dimi,” I say, as my world remains in darkness behind a silky blindfold. “I don’t know what all this secrecy is about.”
His hands are on my shoulders leading me…somewhere. It all started about six hours ago when we drove up to a private airfield and he walked me onto a plane—his, apparently. He blindfolded me for the duration of the flight, which honestly wasn’t that bad because, well, it was the only thing I was wearing for most of it.
After he dressed me and we landed, he led me into a car. We drove here, wherever here was. All the while, he refused to tell me where we were and where we were going.
“We’re almost there,” he says in my ear.
I sigh, letting myself take comfort in his warmth. Wherever we are, it’s a tad colder than England in autumn.
“Stay here.” I lose his warmth.
I hear him unlock a door and then the slight creak as it swings open. His fingers thread through mine and he pulls me forward, my steps sure despite my lack of vision because I know he won’t let me fall. The place we’ve just stepped into is wonderfully warm. I let out a small sigh.
“Are you ready?” his voice moves around me until he’s behind me. I feel his hands on my hair.
Finally.
He pulls that blindfold off. I blink as my eyes adjust to the light. The room comes into view, a cosy studio apartment that’s been done up; I can still smell the fresh paint. It takes me a second to recognise it.
Oh my God.
I glance out the window to confirm it and see the familiar street below. We’re standing in our old apartment. In St Petersburg. He’s redone it to look exactly like what we always dreamed it would be—the large fireplace, the desk, the bookcases, the walls painted my favourite shade of yellow.
My hands fly to my mouth. “Dimi, what did you do?”
He chuckles into my ear, his arms sliding around my waist. “You like it?”
“You bought this apartment?”
“I bought the whole building,” he admits. “It’s the first thing I did when I got enough money together.”
My mouth drops open. “Most men collect baseball cards. You, you collect buildings.”
“I told you I was going somewhere.”
My heart lets out a guilty thud. “Dimi,” my voice softens.
He squeezes my waist. “Just messing with you, lamb.” He walks over to an old gramophone and turns it on. I already know what song it’s going to be.
My heart soars when “Stormy Weather” begins to play. Dimitri has a wicked look on his face when he spins to me, holding out a hand. I take it and melt into his arms. We dance.
I cannot be any happier.
“Do you remember what happened in this apartment?”
I laugh as he spins me out. “Of course I do.”
I stop spinning and face him. He doesn’t spin me back in. In fact, he’s stopped moving. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he drops to his knees before me. “Alena…”
My free hand flies to my mouth.
“I asked you,” he says, his voice trembling, “all those years ago to marry me. I asked for the wrong reasons. I asked you because I wanted to keep you, to possess you. This time I am asking you to be my partner. My equal.” He opens a black box, a huge diamond ring sitting in the centre. “This time I have a ring. Alena…” his face shines with so much love, mirroring my own, “marry me.”
“Oh, Dimi,” I sob. “Yes, with all the beats of my heart.”
We kiss like it’s the first time.
We kiss like it might be the last.
He picks me up and carries me to the bed where he strips me naked, then places my new ring on my finger. We make love. And we fuck like we hate each other. Then we make love again.
Afterwards I lie against his naked body, our limbs tangled together.
Dimitri hums against my forehead. “You screamed so loud I think the neighbours might complain.”
I bury my face in his neck, my cheeks warming. “Oh God.” I was so loud. “If they complain, I might die of shame.”
He shrugs. “If they complain, I’ll just get new neighbours.”
I laugh. Then gasp. “You can’t kick them out just because—”
“Joking, lamb.”
I settle back into his arms and let out a happy little sigh. Now, I think, I cannot get any happier.
Epilogue
____________
Alena
One year later…
I sit at my desk, working on a new novel. This one is entirely fictional, I’m glad to say. Beautiful Revenge released a few months ago to strong sales and my publisher is waiting for my next manuscript. I’ve kept my pen name as Alena Ivanova. My real name is now Mrs Alena Wolf.
Dimitri’s presence warms my side, his hand stroking my hair. His other hand rests on the desk, rubbing that old fingerprint ink stain. He rescued my old desk from Worthington Manor before he sold the house back to Edgar for a very reasonable price. Edgar couldn’t stay mad at Dimitri when Emily spilled to him that Dimitri had helped make him rich again. Thankfully, he’s stopped doing business with Terrance.
“Hey lamb,” he says.
I smile up at him. “If I’m the lamb, what are you going to call the little one when he comes?” I rub my huge round belly.
“Or she.” He leans over and places a hand on my hand on our child growing inside of me.
I laugh. “Or she. What will you call her?”
“Little lamb.”
I snort.
We live in London now in a four-bedroom apartment facing Hyde Park. It’s close to Dimitri’s office, my publisher and not too far from the university where Emily is finishing her nursing degree. She stays with us for the semester and returns to Worthington Manor to see her father during her holidays.
“Do you think I have time to cuddle my lamb…naked?” Dimitri hums against my ear, his hand slipping over my bump and lower, making me shiver.
“Leni!” Emily’s voice calls out, the front door slamming behind her.
Dimitri groans. “That girl has impeccable timing.” But there’s fondness in his tone. He’s grown to love her like a sister as much as I do.
I shoot a later grin towards Dimi.
Emily bursts into my study room, which also doubles as a library with bookshelves against every single wall, comfortable couches and armchairs about the place. She’s chattering away. Even as she speaks there’s an anxiousness in her tone. Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Before I can ask her what’s wrong, a familiar male figure walks in behind her, startling me.
“Javier,” I say with surprise. “I didn’t realise you were coming around.”
Dimitri frowns. “Neither did I.”
“Sorry to bother you both on the weekend,” Javier says. He seems nervous, too. He keeps shifting his weight and fidgeting with his shirt.
Dimitri’s frown deepens as he glances between Javier and Emily, now standing side by side in front of us. “Why are you here?”
“Um, so,” Emily starts, “there’s something that we, that is to say, Javier and I, need to tell you…”
There’s a heavy pause.
“Well, go on,” Dimitri says, his voice growing hard.
Emily glances over to
Javier. He nods to her and she turns back to us. “I know this will probably come as a shock to you. It came as a shock to us too. What I mean to say is, we didn’t mean for it to happen it just—”
“Emily, honey,” I say, “spit it out.”
“Javier and I are in love,” tumbles out of her mouth.
There’s a moment’s pause.
I look over to Dimitri. He’s already looking at me.
We both burst out laughing.
Poor Emily and Javier just stand there looking at each other. “W-What’s so funny?” Emily asks.
I wipe the tears from my eyes. “You sweet girl. You looked so scared.”
“And you, Javier,” Dimitri says with a chuckle, “you looked like you were going to piss yourself.”
“What?” Emily is still staring at us both.
“They knew,” Javier says, the light flicking on visibly behind his eyes.
“What?”
Javier glares at Dimitri and me. “You knew and you didn’t tell us? You let us agonize over telling you for weeks?”
“When it was so funny to let you both squirm?” Dimitri says.
“To watch you both tiptoe around when you thought you were being so discreet and clever?” I add.
“You’re not…mad?” Javier asks.
Dimitri and I protest all at once.
“Emily is like a sister to me,” I say, “if anyone deserves her, it’s you.”
“And Javier, it’s about time someone made you a happy man,” Dimitri says.
Javier and Emily look at each other. Emily gives him a shy look and reaches for his hand. “Now we don’t have to hide it anymore.” She turns to us, grinning. “I guess you won’t mind if we announce that…we’re engaged!”
I let out a small scream and Emily joins in. I fling myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck. This is how I should feel when my very best friend gets engaged. This time she’s getting engaged to the right man.
Dimitri and Javier clasp hands. “Congrats, mate. Looks like I’m breaking out the good scotch tonight.”
Once I tear myself away from Emily, I congratulate Javier with a hug too.
We break open a champagne bottle and that bottle of scotch, soda water for me. The four of us sit close and talk and laugh.
I let out a squeal suddenly, almost spilling my drink into Dimitri’s lap.
“What’s wrong?” Dimi says, his hand on me instantly.
I’m too damn excited to speak. I grab his hand and place it on my belly. The baby kicks again. This time it’s Dimitri who yelps. He leaps from his seat and begins to jump around the room like a lunatic. “We’ll put a cot here and a rocking chair beside it so you can rock our little lamb to sleep. Oh, and here…!” As Dimitri paints our future with his hands, Emily and Javier crowd around me, their twin hands on my belly. I catch the tiny look between them and I know that my little lamb may get a best friend soon enough.
Music blasts from the gramophone we brought back from St Petersburg. Dimitri has turned on a rocking swing number. He runs over to us and has the three of us up and moving and laughing in seconds.
As he swings me in his arms, the sound of Emily’s giggles in my ear as Javier dips her, I think, now—now—I can’t get any happier.
This is how to make a home. You take a house and, no matter what the furniture looks like, you fill the rooms with laughter and love.
The End
Dear Readers
Firstly, thank you for reading Beautiful Revenge. This book was a “unicorn” for me. I have never written a book so fast! Dimitri possessed me and I was left gripping on for dear life as his story poured from my fingers onto the keyboard. I hope you loved Dimitri and Alena’s story as much as I loved writing it!
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xoxo Sienna
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Mr. Blackwell’s Bride
A Good Wife Novel
Sienna Blake
Drake
This marriage was supposed to be another business deal. My latest investment, a means to an end… I need an heir. Which means I want her belly swollen with my child before the year is out.
She was supposed to be my perfect little bride. Quiet. Uncomplicated. Unemotional.
I didn’t foresee the stunning firecracker who tumbled into my life and woke things in me I thought were long dead. I didn’t count on her turning my world upside down.
And I definitely didn’t plan on falling for this beauty.
Noriko
This marriage was supposed to be my sacrifice. A way to save my father, a means to an end… I need to remain childless. So I can exit the contract at the end of the year.
He was supposed to be a boring old man. Distant. Uncomplicated. Passionless.
I didn’t foresee the rude, arrogant and beautiful brute who made my body react like fire and smoke. I didn’t count on there being more underneath his gruff exterior.
And I’m definitely not supposed to fall in love with the beast.
This is a NEW story using old characters from the now unpublished novel, Girl Wife Prisoner. This version has no Keir, no cheating and a Happily Ever After.
Coming 8 November 2017
ARC opportunity will open end of Sept.
Join my Reader Group to make sure you don’t miss out!
Join my Reader Group
BONUS: Love Sprung From Hate
Dark Romeo 1
Sienna Blake
I didn’t know she was a detective, the only daughter of the Chief of Police.
I didn’t know he was a mafia Prince, heir to the Tyrell’s bloody empire.
It was only supposed to be one night.
God help me, I can’t stop thinking about that night.
So when she walked into the interrogation room, my heart almost stopped.
I can’t believe he might have tortured and killed someone.
I have to avoid her at all costs.
I will be his downfall.
So begins a deadly game of cat and mouse, of blood and lust, of love and duty, and of an attraction so fierce the consequences are inevitable…
Inspired by Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, this is a retelling for mature audiences. Don’t enter the Underworld if you’re scared of the dark.
Love Sprung From Hate: Dark Romeo #1 a novel / by Sienna Blake. – 1st Ed.
First Edition: June 2017
Published by SB Publishing
Copyright 2017 Sienna Blake
Cover art copyright 2017 Romac Designs: http://romacdesigns.com. All rights reserved Sienna Blake. Stock images: shutterstock
Development editing and proofreadi
ng services by Book Detailing.
Proofreading services by Proof Positive: http://proofpositivepro.com.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please delete and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For Terrie,
Who called dibs on Roman.
And for being your bad-ass miracle-worker multi-tasking ninja self.
Love you.
____________
“My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathèd enemy.”
____________
~ Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare
Act 1, Scene 5
1
____________
Roman
I was being hunted down like a dog at my brother’s own funeral. I ran bent over, weaving through the rows of gray and bone-white gravestones. Praying angels with pitying eyes stared down at me from their tall moss-covered pedestals, their eerie silence making my heavy breath seem like screaming. My polished black leather shoes sank in places. My tailored Armani suit pants were edged with mud.
