Page 85 of Seduction (Wicked Vows)

What will they demand from him?

Another knock sounds at the door, louder than the first.

If I’m to believe what they say… that’s my future husband.

My heart leaps in my throat, my pulse erratic and racing. I have missed him so much. I feel I can hardly breathe from the need to feel his strong arms around me again. To feel his hands in mine. To hear his deep, reassuring voice once more. We’ve been through so much. . .

I look around quickly to see who’s here.

The only woman I haven’t met yet is Aria. She has glasses perched on the edge of her nose and wild hair tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck, but some strands have escaped, curling around her face. She gives me a wink and stands by a man with golden skin who holds himself with authority. I’m assuming he’s her husband, Mikhail, the head of the family.

“Is that Nikko Romanov on the other side of the door?” Polina asks loudly to be heard through the doorway.

“It is,” he growls. Polina giggles.

“This is the first time in our generation a Russian is marrying a Russian, Nikko Romanov. Therefore, you must uphold all the Russian traditions.”

“Jesus,” we hear him curse on the other side of the door. Laughter ripples through the room.

“First, we demand a ransom. You’ve spent time with your future wife, a luxury many of us haven’t had. To earn your way in, you must answer our questions.”

“Well?” he responds.

Polina crosses her arms and winks at me. “How does she take her coffee?”

“Two creams, two sugars, no flavors. Hot and strong,” he replies.

“Hot, dark, and sweet, just like her men,” my mom whispers in my ear.

“Mom!” I say, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Polina glances at me for confirmation. I give her two thumbs up, feeling the heat on my face. “Ding, ding, ding!” she says. “First ransom paid. Now for the second question. What can you tell me about her hopes and dreams? Be specific, Mr. Romanov.”

“She dreams of working alongside Professor Morozov in Moscow. She wants to bring affordable healthcare to the masses, with a focus on medical science. She’d like to have four children, two dogs, and a home close enough to the city for easy shopping but far enough away to avoid traffic noise. She wants a front porch that overlooks the sunset.”

Even though we haven’t known each other for long, he has been remarkably attentive. In this brief period, we’ve shared moments of profound intimacy and unveiled our deepest secrets. I found myself compelled to trust him, thrust into a situation where I had no other option, and he rose to the occasion with unwavering support and understanding.

As he speaks, my vision blurs with unshed tears, a testament to the emotions swirling within me. The room around us seems to have fallen into a hushed silence, every eye fixed on this moment, amplifying the weight of his words. I swallow hard, attempting to ease the knot tightening in my throat, but the effort feels futile against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

I draw in a deep breath, hoping to steady myself, as he continues to speak, his voice a steady anchor in the emotional storm brewing around us.

“She’s a speed reader; she reads at least five times as fast as me but types so slowly because she uses just her index fingers. She has to dictate her thoughts because her mind races. She devours romance novels between reading academic literature as a form of stress relief. Last year, she read over two hundred romance books and is on track to break that record this year.”

Murmurs of approval and surprise spread through the room. I shrug. “Accurate,” I say. “Very accurate.”

“Her love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. She loves it when people do things for her but needs a bit of praise now and then. She enjoys Diet Coke but hates onions. Her comfort food is grilled cheese. She did fine in Russia, but she’d give anything for sourdough bread and American cheese.”

I nod. “Also accurate.”

“She’s close with her mother, who is her best friend,” he continues. “She gets up early but stays up too late because she’s always reading and doesn’t get enough sleep. She can’t hold her liquor, and she loses herself in her studies. She needs someone to remind her to rest, eat, and take care of herself.”

Polina looks at me, her eyes shining. “How did he do?”

I dab my eyes, hoping they don’t notice that he’s brought me to tears. Nikko Romanov loves me. And he knows me. He’s going to give me all those things: the love languages, the grilled cheese, the home with kids and dogs and sunsets.

“I think he’s more than paid his ransom,” I say with a grin. “Can you let him in?”

They open the door, and he’s standing there, silhouetted against a sunset. My tall, serious man.

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