Page 33 of Sacred Vow

“We don’t. The Cubs are playing at one.” Viktor points to the big screen TV on the wall.

“The Cubs can wait.” Sergei puts up a hand. “She yelled something about not marrying you. Did you suggest it?” His features darken. Marriage is worse than a curse to Sergei, though it probably has something to do with his fiancée walking out on him the night before their wedding last year.

“You were listening?” My men wouldn’t dare listen, and if they were bold enough to do so, they sure as hell wouldn’t tell me about it. But these aren’t my men, they’re my cousins. Equals, and the same pains in the ass most family members become as you age.

“Andrei, to be fair, she’s got a set of lungs,” Viktor points out. “I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but I could hear her when you got her up there. That’s why I went to the kitchen.”

A thud from the room above us—the room where I’ve stashed Isolde—strikes right on cue. She has figured out she’s locked inside.

“If we marry, she has my protection. The Patruli brothers would be risking retribution from more than just us if they go near her,” I point out.

“It might be a risk they’re willing to take,” Sergei states. “The only way for her to be completely out of the firing line is if she remembers whatever it is they’re looking for. Maybe you should take her to a doctor. It’s been seven years; maybe they can coax the memory back.”

“No.” I won’t go back on the decision to leave her with a blacked-out memory unless she’s got the full force of my family name behind hers. “You know what she saw. I won’t have her remember that without protection.”

“If she won’t agree to marry you, then what?” Viktor asks. “It’s not exactly acceptable to drag a screaming woman to the altar here in America. Back home, maybe, but not here.”

Sergei grunts. Neither of them grew up in America like I did; they have a lot of home still flowing through their veins. And they’re right. It’s easier back in Russia, but American judges can be bought.

“She’ll agree.”

Another thud sounds overhead.

“I think she’s destroying your house.” Viktor stands, popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “Not really a good sign that she’s wanting to spend the rest of her life with you.”

“She’ll agree,” I say again.

“The Patruli brothers might not like you getting involved,” Sergei pipes in.

“I’ll deal with them. Once my name is attached to hers, we’ll sit down with them.”

“Sit down?” Viktor laughs. “I’m not sure those animals can be civilized.”

“Then we’ll bring enough firepower and muscle with us to be sure they can be.”

A crash overhead makes me fist my hands. I’m going to tie the woman down the next time I leave her in a room alone.

“I hope you have a plan.” Sergei heads out of the living room. “You should take care of her before she destroys your entire house.”

“What’s his problem?” I look to Viktor for an answer.

He shrugs. “He’s been in a mood since Ursula broke up with him.”

“Ursula was a wallet-chasing bitch,” I say. “She found someone with deeper pockets. He’s better off.”

“He didn’t see that about her until the end.” Viktor looks up at the ceiling as another crash sounds. This time, I think she’s actually broken something. “And what about this one? You think she won’t make your life a living hell if you force her into a marriage she doesn’t want?” He points to the ceiling.

“She can hate me all she wants, so long as she’s alive.” I stare up at the ceiling for a long moment, and when I bring my eyes back down, I find Viktor grinning at me. “What?”

“Have you always wanted her?” he asks.

“What?” I draw my brows down. “She was Craig’s sister, and a teenager.”

“You told me you saw her two years ago, right? She wasn’t a teenager then,” he points out.

“I only saw her in passing. We never spoke.” On a trip to Omaha for a meeting my father set up, I took a detour down to Lincoln. I’d intended to stop in, talk with her mother, take them to dinner, but when I saw Isolde, content and laughing with a small group of women, I changed my mind. She was all right. Seeing me would have been a reminder of Chicago, of Craig, of the home she was taken away from.

“So what? You got a good look, right? Saw how grown up she was? Don’t tell me your little crush didn’t turn into a full hard-on when you saw those curves of hers.”

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