Lissa stared at herself in the mirror. The dress clung to her every curve, emphasized her small waist and lush breasts. The shopkeeper brought out a veil with the same sheer material and illusion of jewels done in the bobbin lace. The veil went from her head to the floor, to add to the beauty of the train. She ran her hand down the dress, unable to believe she was actually standing there, looking at herself in the mirror in something so beautiful.
“I want this,” she breathed. Still, it had to cost a fortune.
“Your gentleman said anything you wanted. Cost did not matter. I have the silk stockings and garter to go with it.”
She also had ivory lace underwear and a pair of silver strappy heels. There was a beautiful silver necklace and drop earrings that looked perfect with the plunging neckline. Lissa didn’t ask the price. She knew if she did, she would never allow Casimir to pay for it all. She told herself after she sold the chandeliers to the other hotels she would have the money to pay him back, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Her day. Her only day. She just hoped Casimir thought the dress and veil would be worth the money as well when he saw them on her.
He didn’t raise an eyebrow when he paid, laughing and talking with the shopkeeper, oozing charm in the way he did. With the dress inside a garment bag, they drove the forty minutes to the city and straight to a Russian Orthodox church. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. The church appeared deserted, and they went around the building, through a garden to a side entrance. Casimir knocked twice and waited. The heavy door was unlocked, and Casimir took her hand and drew her inside.
The small room where they stood was unlit, and a man in robes stood in the shadows. Lissa couldn’t make out his face.
“We need a room to get ready,” Casimir said.
The priest closed and locked the door and then gestured for them to follow him.
“Do you have the paperwork?” Casimir asked.
The priest nodded, paused by a door, opened it and indicated for Lissa to go in. She did, and Casimir followed her. The priest shut the door, leaving them alone.
“It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding,” she said.
He smiled at her. Happy. She loved his smile. “This is our wedding. Part of it. A ritual. The groom helping the bride into her dress. The bride helping the groom with his tie.”
She nodded, shocked that his answer made her even happier.
He hung up the garment bags. “I’m going to get rid of Tomasso. We won’t need him again until tomorrow. I’ll get dressed and help you into your dress.” His hands framed her face. “Thank you for this, Giacinta, it means the world to me that you’d trust me this much.”
She found her eyes burning again. He had no idea how much she felt for him. The emotion nearly overwhelmed her. She knew she was living in the moment, but she also knew this might be all they ever had together and that made their decision all the more important.
While Casimir was in the small bathroom, she carefully did her hair in an artfully messy cascade that was pulled back from her face and twisted into a loose knot at the back of her head to allow her back to show in the dress. The drop earrings would show off the sheer fabric at her shoulders and the long necklace would accent the plunging neckline. She had on the stockings and heels and had stepped into her wedding gown when the door opened and Casimir emerged.
He looked… gorgeous. So handsome he took her breath away. He wore a black suit that fit him as if it had been made for him. She was certain it had been. His shoulders were wide and his body made for such a beautiful cut of jacket. His gaze jumped to her carefully made-up face, makeup with an edge toward drama but still muted, looking almost barely there.
Casimir looked at her as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. Stark love was so raw on his face, stamped into his masculine features, every line, and his eyes, that incredible, slashing silver held the same intense desire – so much so that the absolute intensity brought on a flutter in the region of her heart. “Baby,” she breathed, because that was all she could do. All she could say.
He swirled his finger, indicating for her to turn as she drew up the gown, the sheer lace fabric settling over her shoulders. He did up the long row of jeweled buttons up the center of her back, adding to the mystique the jeweled illusion back created.
He bent and kissed the side of her neck, his breath warm. “Krasavisa.” He whispered the word against the skin behind her ear. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”
She knew the first word was “beautiful” and the second phrase was “I love you.” They both sounded amazing in his native language.
He turned her to face him, his hands gentle on her arms. When she was fully facing him, only a whisper away, he traced the plunging line of her gown in the long vee, over the curve of one breast, down to where the vee came together at her waist and back up over the curve of the other. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”
She found herself staring into his eyes. This man belonged to her. He was dangerous, yes, but he was also unexpectedly romantic. It meant something to him that she had agreed to dress in a wedding gown for him. She still couldn’t believe that he had planned the entire event knowing there was a good chance she might not agree. She liked that he was romantic and that he’d showed that to her now. She needed it. She needed to know she was important to him.
Because she couldn’t talk, couldn’t tell him what he meant to her, she reached up to knot his tie. Her hands trembled. Even in heels she was quite a bit shorter than he was and she had to reach to get his tie straight.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
He took her hand. “More than ready. I never thought I’d ever have you, Giacinta. Never. I couldn’t even imagine a woman as perfect for me as you are.”
She ducked her head and allowed him to secure the long, sheer veil in her hair. Heart pounding, she stepped out the door with him. The priest was patiently waiting. Hand in hand, they followed him into the small chapel. Just inside the entryway, the priest stopped and turned to them.
A man stood to one side of the priest. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was long. Very long. He wore it pulled back in a very tidy tail down his back. His arms bulged under his suit jacket. Tattoos drifted up his neck. His eyes were a piercing green. Not silver, but green. Still, she recognized those eyes. Prakenskii eyes. Beside her, Lissa heard Casimir’s swift intake of breath and knew he had recognized those eyes.
“Viktor.” He barely breathed the name. Stunned. Shocked. His voice sounded choked.
Viktor was the most intimidating man she’d ever seen in her life. That was saying something when she knew six of the seven Prakenskii brothers. Even dressed in his suit, he looked more a dangerous, badass biker than a businessman. She doubted that he could ever have changed roles the way Casimir did. Even so, emotion played over his face for just a moment, the green in his eyes going dark. He hooked his younger brother around the nape of his neck and dragged him close, right into a deep hug – something she almost couldn’t believe someone so scary-looking would do.
“How?” Casimir asked as he straightened, his hand still firmly clasped in his brother’s as if they’d both forgotten they were also shaking hands.
Viktor jerked his head at the priest. “You needed a koumbaros, one to watch over the two of you for the rest of your lives. He sent for me.” The smile faded from his face. “This is your woman?”
“Giacinta Abbracciabene, my brother, Viktor,” Casimir introduced, reaching once again for Lissa’s hand. He brought her fingertips to his mouth. “She’s the one. My woman.” He put her hand in Viktor’s.
“Little sister,” Viktor said. “It is good to meet you. Let’s get this done and we’ll have a few minutes to visit before I have to go. I have to be on a freighter in a couple of hours.” He squeezed her hand, his eyes searching her face before he put her hand back in Casimir’s.
Her heart pounded. She had the feeling that he could see into her soul and if she didn’t measure u
p, he’d slit her throat right there on the spot. In front of Casimir. In front of the priest. Right there in the church. He’d do it without hesitation and walk away, never looking back.
“Your woman is beautiful, Casimir.”
Casimir pulled Lissa closer to him. “She is,” he agreed.
“I’ll need the rings.”
Casimir handed Viktor the wedding rings. “Your being here means the world to me, Viktor,” he said. “I don’t know how…”
“Means the world to me as well,” Viktor said, cutting him off.
He sounded like he was stating the stark truth. Lissa felt her throat close, a huge lump there. Tears burned behind her eyes and she blinked rapidly, not wanting to mess up her makeup, but so grateful that Casimir had his brother there. His oldest brother, the one he – like all the others – worried about the most. None of them had heard from him for a very long time. He was operating deep undercover and hadn’t surfaced in so long they were all afraid something had happened to him.
The priest began the ceremony, reciting Bible passages and blessings. He then made the sign of the cross while he held the rings in his palm, declaring the betrothal. Holding the rings in his hands, he pressed first Casimir’s forehead three times and then followed suit doing the same to Lissa’s forehead. Viktor took the rings from the priest and exchanged them three times between Casimir and Lissa, symbolizing that the weakness of one would be offset by the other.
Lissa’s ring was slipped onto the third finger of her right hand. It was a beautiful, ornate band, matching the thicker band that was Casimir’s. His ring was put onto his finger next. They stood for a moment, Lissa smiling up at Casimir, her heart in her eyes. She became aware of Viktor watching her closely. She couldn’t blame him. He wanted to know that his brother was really going to be happy with the woman of his choice, but still, the direct dark green gaze was disconcerting.
Casimir held Lissa’s right hand and the priest handed them both a lit candle to be held in their left hands. Casimir leaned down to whisper in her ear while the priest continued his blessings as they approached the altar. “We hold hands for the rest of the ceremony, golubushka, to show we are one.”
Viktor leaned down from the other side. “The flames from the candles show you are both willing to receive God’s blessings.”
At the altar, with the priest holding his hand over their joined hands, Viktor presented them with crowns of orange blossoms and other beautiful flowers mixed with semiprecious stones. The garlands were joined together by a white ribbon. “These crowns stay with you for life,” Viktor whispered to Lissa.
The priest took the crowns and placed one on Lissa’s head and the other on Casimir’s while the two of them faced the altar. Viktor switched the crowns three times between the couple in the age-old ritual symbolizing unity.
While the priest read more Bible passages to them, Lissa looked up at the man who was joining his life to hers. He was absolutely confident, following the priest’s every word, his hand firmly in hers.
Wine was next, each drinking three times from a shared cup. “The cup represents life and symbolizes sorrow and joy that the two of you will always share from this day forward,” Viktor explained. “As you drink from the cup, be reminded that you will divide your sorrows and your joys will be doubled.”
Lissa liked that he explained the various ceremonies. She knew enough Russian to understand the priest, but she wasn’t familiar with the wedding rituals and what they meant. The priest spoke rapidly in his native language, making it harder to follow, so the explanations were very welcome.
Viktor and the priest led Casimir and Lissa around the altar three times. She noted that both a Bible and a cross were prominent on the altar. Everything clearly was done in threes. Viktor sang three hymns softly, his voice rich and deep, as they took their first steps as man and wife together.
The priest said a few more prayers over them, ending with the traditional, ancient phrase “May you live.”
He shook Viktor’s hand and then Casimir’s before he faded away, leaving the three together.
“I’ve got a villa for the night,” Casimir said. “No one will be there but us. Do you have time to visit?”
“I’m sorry,” Viktor said, shaking his head, his voice tinged with regret. “I took a chance coming. I have to be on the freighter before it sails. No one knows I’m in the country. Officially, of course, I’m not. I’ve got some friends taking me back, but they won’t be able to cover for me for long. I don’t dare miss my ride.” He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder as he leaned down to brush a kiss on Lissa’s cheek. “Lazzaro has a small room set aside where we can visit for a few minutes.”
Casimir held tightly to Lissa’s hand as they followed Viktor down a narrow hallway to a small room with four chairs and a coffee table. Other than those five pieces of furniture, the room was bare. Casimir helped Lissa to remove her crown and veil and sit in the most comfortable chair before he sank into the one beside her, taking off his crown as well.
“You haven’t checked in with anyone, Viktor.” Casimir knew it sounded like a reprimand – and it was. “All of us were worried. We weren’t even certain you were alive.”
Viktor shrugged. “It couldn’t be helped. In the beginning, when I first joined the motorcycle club, I was watched all the time. I’ve managed to work my way up in rank and I’m trusted far more than I was, but my target is very paranoid. He used to ride with the club all the time, but now he’s elusive. I’ve managed to slowly get my people in place and they have my back, so it isn’t as dangerous as it was in the beginning when I was out there with no one, surrounded by a hundred enemies.”
Casimir swore in Russian. “We would have come.”
Viktor nodded. “Precisely why I didn’t tell any of you what I was doing. Of course you would have come. I didn’t want that for you, for any of you. You’re the last one to find his woman. Tell me about the others.”
“You’re the last one to find his woman,” Casimir corrected. He didn’t want Viktor to give up his life because his brothers were settled.
Viktor shook his head. “I was the first,” he said. He pressed his thumb into the middle of his palm. “When this is over, I’m going to stake my claim. She won’t like it, me being gone so long, but…” He shrugged. His features were hard. Implacable.
Casimir didn’t think that boded very well for his woman. “Does this woman know she’s been claimed?”
“She’d better know it,” Viktor said.
“Really?” Lissa asked, her voice innocent. Too innocent. The sheer arrogance of the man rubbed her the wrong way. “So you kept in touch with her for the past… how long have you been undercover? Five years?”
Viktor narrowed his gaze. “Deep undercover means no communicating with the outside world that might put someone you care about in jeopardy.”
Lissa nodded. Casimir shifted closer to her, uncertain what exactly was taking place between his wife and his brother.
“So this woman of yours knew you were going undercover.”
“Wife. My fucking wife.”
Lissa’s eyebrows shot up and her fingers tightened around Casimir’s. Glancing down at her, he realized she was angry. “Your wife then. You told her you were going deep undercover, right? There were ways you would let her know you weren’t dead.”
“She knows.”
“Good. Otherwise she might be dating someone else, or maybe, if she didn’t know she was already someone’s wife, married to someone else.”
Viktor went still. Scary still. The room shuddered. “That happens, sister, and her new husband won’t have long for this world.”
“Not a good idea to leave a woman alone for five years, brother,” Lissa continued, “especially if she’s smokin’ hot. And a runner. She goes running down the highway and she’s bound to stop traffic and then where are you going to be? Oh wait. I know. Somewhere deep undercover while she’s all alone and lonely. Surrounded by men who think she’s smokin�
�� hot, because she is.”
“What the hell, Giacinta?” Casimir demanded.
Beside him, Lissa moved restlessly, drawing Viktor’s sharp gaze. Lissa looked down at her wedding ring, the band that was tucked up tight against the diamond he’d given her earlier in the day.
“I just wouldn’t want you to ever do that kind of thing to me, Casimir,” Lissa said. “I wouldn’t be in the least understanding, and I’m a little outraged on all my fellow sisters’ behalf.”
There was a small silence, Viktor staring down at her face for a long moment before he sighed and changed the subject. “Tell me about the farm. You live there, right? Where my brothers live?”
Her gaze jumped to his face. “They’re happy.” Her voice was strictly neutral. “Even Gavriil. He’s still in a lot of pain, but Lexi is working with that and hopes to alleviate it, at least most of it. All of them are doing well.”
Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters Page 25
