Page 27 of Mafia Christmas Vows

It’s early. I spent a restless night watching the snow slowly build; the kiss that I explored with Magdalena simmering through my veins.

I could not sleep.

Not when the memory of her lips on mine was so… present. Not when I could practically taste her still, sugar and mint, and when my body still thrummed with energy from caressing the delectable curves of her body.

My wife.

One of the very, very obvious advantages of having a wife is slowly becoming clear to me.

I do not need to try hard to find someone to have sex with. I am the head of the Orlov family. I am rich. I can find women wherever I want.

The problem is that I do not often want. I am a busy man, and I have spent much of my time building the empire that my father entrusted to me before his death.

Having a wife, or the process of obtaining one, was never part of my plan.

But now that I have one?

One that tastes so sweet, one whose body calls to mine in a siren song?

I find myself faced with the realization that I am not sure if I can keep my hands off of her. And since I will see her again, which is unusual for me when it comes to my trysts…

I am uncertain what to do.

Anatoly clears his throat as we stand in the main entrance to the house. The snow outside is truly something out of legend.

It’s a storm that I also would not wish to travel in.

I glance at him. “Your family is in the village?”

He nods. Orlov House, and the estate around it, hosts a very small village. In the old days, the denizens were the serfs of our family.

Now, though, they’re regular citizens.

As regular as a citizen can be in Russia, I suppose.

Still, I take the duty of protecting them quite seriously. I do ensure that they’re not bullied by any local oligarchs, and that I attend all of the local festivals and events in my somewhat ceremonial role.

We have that, I suppose.

“Can you make it to the village?”

Anatoly snorts. “There is no blizzard that could keep me from my home, Boss.”

I figured that was the case. Even if there is a blizzard that would keep him from taking me back to Novgorod.

To be fair, ti is a much longer drive. But…

I decide not to press the issue.

With one final nod, Anatoly leaves.

I sigh and head back into the kitchen.

“So you’ll be staying with us, then?” Elena says as she glides into the kitchen.

I can’t help but note how smug she is about that.

“Yes. Until the storm lifts.”

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