Page 58 of Poisoned Roses

CHAPTER 32

TATIANA

Iwas made welcome and feel instantly at home. It doesn’t matter that Titus disappeared with his family. I am happy in the company of the women.

Grace, their mother, is warm and has welcomed me into the family with no barriers in the way. She is interested in my work and asks me many questions before she disappears to organize the welcome dinner.

“You must be excited.” Lilli, who I believe is with Mikhail, smiles at me with genuine excitement.

“I am, despite not knowing what’s involved.”

“You mean you don’t have a clue? What about your dress? Surely you’ve been involved in that?” Polly declares, twisting her own wedding band in agitation.

From what I’ve been told, she is the only other woman to marry a Romanov. Titus’s brother, Valentin.

“I mean–” She huffs out a breath of frustration. “My own wedding was a little unorthodox, but at least I was prepared to an extent.”

“Tell me about it.” I’m interested, especially when a ripple of laughter surrounds me from the other women.

Polly has a dreamy expression in her eye as she is transported back to the day. “He told me we were getting married.”

“Told you? Why does that sound familiar?”

She grins. “He told me the choice wasn’t mine and we would marry in one hour’s time. At least you had a couple of weeks to adjust to that.”

“What did you say?”

“Why yes, of course. I can’t explain it, but I knew it was what I wanted.”

“Do you regret your decision?” I’m asking because her situation mirrors mine and the happiness on her face gives me my answer.

“No.” She smiles. “You will be the same because marriage to a Romanov is called winning at life.”

Serena smiles. “You will love this family, Tia. They may be cavemen in their attitude, but they don’t restrict your freedom. If you want something, it happens and I’m not talking about possessions. With Alexei, I can be myself. I’m not playing a part.I am free. We work as a team and I am protected, and that means more to me than anything he can buy me.”

“It’s true. It’s a safe place to be when you hold the hand of a Romanov man.” Ellie speaks up and I glance at her with curiosity because Titus told me her father is none other than Boris Fedorov. I can’t imagine what that must be like and as if she senses my interest, she says softly, “When I found out who my father is, I was terrified. Arman was there every step of the way and with him watching my back, it gave me the strength to deal with my past. That is worth more than money, expensive houses and private jets. It’s the simple things that matter most. The shared intimacy of the mind as well as the body.”

I can’t help but blush and Lilli grins. “The body is the main attraction if you ask me. Sometimes Mikhail’s attitude leaves a lot to be desired, but I always desire his body.”

All the women nod, their laughter surrounding me and I clench my thighs together, knowing what will happen when I’m alone with Titus.

For a woman who had few friends, I am so appreciative of them. We will become best friends because we share a common interest. We all captured the attention of a Romanov man and one day I may even claim his heart because it’s obvious from the rapture in their expressions that the men are capable of that. All I must do is bide my time and hope that the final brother learns what the word means.

The day blursinto a frenzy of organization and I don’t catch up with Titus until he heads into the suite of rooms that I was shown to.

His room.

It’s exactly like him. Rich, decadent and sinfully delicious from the gray walls with subdued lighting, wild dark paintings of gothic proportions and sumptuous silk bedding with contrasting black throws.

The carpet is as black as his heart and the candles are already lit when I head inside, unsure if I’m even supposed to be here but directed this way by their housekeeper. My day has been spent being measured and pampered by a team of beauticians and I am more relaxed than I should be right now after the deep intense body massage one of the women gave me.

My entire body is alight and my senses are swimming from the decadent oils and perfumes that were rubbed into my body. It’s as if I was prepared as a virgin sacrifice for the king and he is indeed in residence. He stands by the window, holding a glass of what appears to be brandy, black silk pants hanging low on his hips, his chest naked and rippling in the candlelight.

His eyes glitter as I head into the room and he says huskily, “Drop the robe.”

I clutch the toweling robe I was given when the masseuse had finished and I am not embarrassed to be naked underneath.

I hold his gaze, my heart beating so hard at the dark atmosphere. It’s almost as if he has changed since stepping into his natural habitat and I sense the raw power directed my way as he takes a sip of the liquid on fire in his glass.

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