I speak up. “We clarified with Petr Ivanov before his untimely death that the attacks against us were not his orders.”

“I understand,” her mother says. “But it was our family who attacked you. And I’ve already thought this through.” Vera looks at her in surprise, not quite as in tune with politics as her mother. “We’re willing and able to discuss how our families will make amends for all that has happened.”

Mikhail pauses for a moment, sitting up straighter. “Then Nikko, I will depend on you to report back. It’s essential to have a working relationship with the Ivanov hierarchy. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Excellent.” Mikhail sits down. “Let’s eat.”

Neither Vera nor I are very hungry. We’ve been apart and need time alone. Though it’s Russian tradition for a bride and groom to spend the night apart, I’m going to insist on seeing my future wife alone.

“Take a walk with me, Vera?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Vera

We walk hand in hand outside the family home, the skyline casting a faint pink glow on falling dusk around us. Nikko walks at my side so that he’s between me and the street. Just like he did in Moscow.

“Vera,” he begins at the same time I say, “Nikko?”

It feels strange saying his real name, but a part of me rejoices. We need to start over. To begin again. What better than with a new name, a new location, a new family?

My heart is in my throat when he turns to me, and I see the toll this has all taken on him. The lines around his mouth and eyes and the weight on his shoulders make him look tired and belabored. I want to smooth out those lines. Sit on his lap and tell him I still love him. That I understand. He was torn between loyalty and honor and chose what he thought best. But I don’t tell him any of that.

When I open my mouth to speak. . . he kisses me.

My eyes flutter closed at the feel of his mouth on mine. I sigh, allowing myself to finally actually breathe.

My breath catches when he tangles his fingers in my hair. I sigh and melt into him, into the warmth of his embrace and his claiming mouth on mine. I moan when his tongue licks mine. I move closer. The next thing I know, his hands are under my ass, my legs are wrapped around him, and he’s carrying us to a wrought-iron bench beside a leafy bush.

Sitting down, he positions me to straddle his lap and pulls back slightly. Our foreheads touch. His voice cracks when he begs for forgiveness. “Vera, please. I want to tell you I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for lying to you.”

“You thought my family was responsible for attacking yours, and to a degree, you were right. You have a sworn duty and loyalty to your family. And while you had a plan. . . you didn’t act on it, Mar—” He isn’t Markov. That’s gonna take some time.

“I never thought I would be able to forgive someone for lying to me, but. . . you took a bullet for me. And by most standards, I’d think. . . I—” My voice gets all choked up. For some reason, just being this close to him and seeing the earnest expression in his eyes brings everything to the surface. Everything. My father’s gone. Irina betrayed us. Markov isn’t Markov. We’re going to be married tomorrow. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. I’m choking on emotions in a way I didn’t even with my mother, my best friend.

“Nikko. . . ” I whisper. “Nikko Romanov.” It feels right saying his real name. When I blink, a fat tear rolls down my cheek. I need to release these pent-up feelings before I explode.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallows, his own emotions choking him. “Yes. And I promise you, Vera. I meant every word I said about how much I love you. I meant every word I said about wanting to protect you. And now that we’ll be married, those circumstances are behind us. My love, there will never be so much as the glimmer of a lie between us again.”

When he cups my face in his hands in that familiar, possessive way of his, he captures my gaze. In that moment, the world dissolves around us, leaving nothing but the space we occupy. It’s just us, and in this fleeting instant, that’s all that matters.

Us.

“I love you, Vera,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, resonating with the depth of his feelings. “I love you more than anyone in the world. And tomorrow, it will be my honor to proclaim my vows to you.”

Tears burn in my eyes, hot and relentless, as I respond, “And I love you, endlessly.” My voice breaks. “Tomorrow, we start anew. We’re not just continuing where we left off, but forging our way forward. We’ll do this because we owe it to our families. And we owe it to us.”

He kisses me again, with a passion so fierce it steals my breath. Each touch reignites the fire within me, a fire only he has the power to kindle.

“Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head when we finally break the kiss. “I will not make love to you the night before our wedding. We have to save ourselves for the big day.” His voice becomes a growl. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”

I kiss him again, teasingly, this time smiling when he pinches my ass to punish me for being so sassy.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he groans, adjusting himself beneath me.

I rest my head on his chest and feel his strong arms around me.