Page 34 of Lethal Saint

She shook her head, blonde curls dancing. “That would never have happened. I’ve never been in a café, I’m not allowed—”

I raised an eyebrow. Like fucking hell she wasn’t allowed.

“And I get the impression traditional isn’t your style or—”

She yelped when I grabbed her hand and tugged her suddenly around the corner of the church. I only hesitated to catch Jonathan’s eye and make sure he followed. I wasn’t taking chances with her safety. Tomorrow, I’d find her a guard who could be with her even when I was called away for work. Or toworkon her brothers, and her father when I found that snivelling bastard.

“Where are we going?” she demanded, her eyes bright with surprise and her steps hurried to keep up with me. I slowed when we were around the back of the church where the modest car park was crammed with all my family’s cars.

“To a café,” I replied, “To rectify your inexperience with them. Immediately.”

“Damien,” she protested with a laugh. That was three laughs she’d given me. “We can’t run away; what will your family think?”

“That we’ve ditched them to go home and have sex,” I said, waiting for Jonathan to catch up to us, my best man surly and pissed off. His jacket had been ditched somewhere; he was now in a white shirt that strained at his chest and biceps.

“Are we?” Vasilisa asked, her eyes swirling with an unreadable motion. And no wonder—she’d been through so fucking much, she had to be terrified.

I kissed the spot between her brows. “No, little queen. I won’t sleep with you until it’s on your terms. You’ve been through enough.”

Her mouth fell open, something…indignant on her face? “But—this—we need to consummate the marriage!”

Jonathan grunted, throwing my car keys at me and storming towards his own car. “Do not need, or want, to hear this conversation, thank you.”

I was surprised he didn’t warn me to be gentle with her. Maybe his glare implied the words.

“We will,” I promised my wife, stroking a finger through her curls, my chest full of protectiveness and pride. “When you’re ready. But now, we’re going to the best café in London.”

CHAPTER 13

DAMIEN

My wife had a whole bakery section of sweets, pastries, pies, cookies, cakes, and tarts before her, and she ordered an apple. I suppressed a groan, keeping my arm around her back so the warmth of her body kissed my side. This whole day felt surreal, like an elaborate dream of everything I’d ever hoped for. I was going to wake up the second someone pinched my arm.

“Sure,” the thirty-something black woman behind the counter said, grabbing Vasilisa’s apple. “And can I get you any drinks?”

My wife gave me a wide-eyed look, so unsure and anxious that it carved right into my heart. I ducked my head to press a kiss to her forehead and told the barista, “We’ll take a black coffee and a strawberry milkshake, and one of everything in this display.”

“Uh.” The woman stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You did just say one of everything, right?”

“I did.” I held eye contact, willing to intimidate her if necessary.

“Damien, this is excessive,” Vasilisa whispered, tugging on my jacket. “I don’t need to tryeverything.”

“What makes you think they’re for you?” I teased. When her eyes dropped, I hurriedly added, “They are for you. It’s all for you. And what’s wrong with excessively treating my wife?”

She flicked a glance at me.

“If you’ve never been to this café before, you might not know what you like,” I reasoned. “So you’ll have to try everything to find your favourite.”

The woman behind the counter must have realised I was serious because she began plating up cakes.

I slid my wallet from my pocket and left my card on the counter. “We’ll be sitting in the window.”

The barista glanced up with a smile dialled up several watts, likely because her regular customers spent ten pounds, twenty tops, and I’d be handing over ten times that. It was nothing to me, nowhere even close to a blip on my daily expenses, but money had different values for everyone. “I’ll bring everything over.”

“Damien,” Vasilisa murmured when we sat, the window giving us a perfect view of the sweet little road and Chiltern Firehouse opposite us. I’d stayed in the hotel several times before finding an apartment here, and this part of Marylebone was one of my favourite places in London. Even with cars cutting down the road, it was peaceful. Shame I could see Jonathan’s ugly mug where he sulked in his car across the street, but the rest of the view was ideal.

I wanted to show her all my favourite places, wanted to share everything with her.

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