Page 47 of King’s Promise

“I am,” she concedes. She accepts my arm around her and to my surprise, she slips her arm around me as we walk. It’s a truce, but so much more. Why does affection from her put me on edge? It’s a nice edge, one filled with excitement and possibilities. I never needed to experience the thrill of a woman’s touch before, however, I adore hers.

“Great, this way,” I announce as Pavel makes sure the way is safe and we head to a restaurant frequented by well-known celebrities. I’ve noticed the glamour magazines on the table in the kitchen. She loves movies because I hear them playing on her TV in her room late at night when neither of us can sleep.

We arrive at Guy Savoy’s restaurant in time for our reservation. The tall dark walls, reminiscent of another era, greet us as we’re seated. The intimate dining room is lined with glass enclosed bookcases and large windows overlooking the grounds. A soft amber glow from the overhead globes cascades over Anya’s light hair. I love her curious nature and even though it’s the most expensive place to eat in Paris, I’m happy I can indulge her.

“The movie stars eat here,” she all but squeals and her smile is more rewarding than overcoming major obstacles at work. This has never happened before with anyone. “How did you manage this?” Her eyes travel to the books on the enclosed shelves, eyes filled with wonder.

“I know people.” I can’t hold back my smile any longer as it blossoms on my face. I’ve impressed her. More importantly, I enjoy sharing my worldly knowledge and she’s appreciative. There are plenty of experiences I want to share with her in the bedroom, but that might take some time.

I order the best bottle of French wine, and we discuss the dinner menu, whereby she picks her entrée as I order appetizers.

“This is amazing. I didn’t know you had so many connections.” Her eyes soften as she peers into mine over her wine glass. We’ll be married in a few days, and it doesn’t seem like a sacrifice anymore.

“I’m resourceful, what can I say? I wouldn’t be the Don without having a skill set to survive in the world in which we live. What’s the point in having money if we can’t enjoy the pleasures of what it buys?”

“Like me?”

“You’re not bought, Anya. Don’t diminish yourself. It’s a marriage between families, we’ll both benefit. Isn’t that enough?”

She’s quiet as food is placed in front of us and I show her how to eat escargot.

“I don’t know. I wanted to marry for love; you were a surprise. Papa didn’t warn me.”

“Hm, you thought he gave into your demands because you wanted it? No. It’s never that simple. There is always an ulterior motive, remember that. Few give of themselves without wanting something in return. It’s human nature.”

“And what do you want?”

“I have what I want. Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” I pull the ring out of my inner vest pocket. “I’ve been remiss in my manners; however, I picked it for you. Give me your hand.”

She complies without hesitation and the corners of my mouth curl into a smile. I slide the ring on her finger. This is a first and I take my time so I can hold her hand as long as possible.

“It fits perfectly,” she replies demurely as she raises her hand and observes it under the light. I marvel at the enormous smile on her face, which is brighter than the gems on her finger.

“Do you like it? The sapphire reminds me of your pretty eyes.”

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Thank you, Nikolay.”

I marvel at her genuine appreciation for a fine piece of jewelry. She doesn’t act entitled like my side pieces, who are out to get as much as they can before my interest wears off. Anya is different. I never liked younger women, but she’s more mature than most her age. She doesn’t spend her life on social media or texting friends endlessly. I love that she’s close to her sister and she’s willing to make sacrifices for her well-being.

I cross the ring off my list of chores. It seems redundant to ask her to marry me. It’s a done deal.

I turn our attention to the food experience at hand and the chef comes out to visit before we leave. Anya’s face is flush from the first-hand experience of what money can bring.

As we get up to leave, all eyes in the room are on us. We’re the unknown power couple and the focus of everyone’s attention. Shoulders back, chin high, she slips her arm through mine, and we make our elegant exit.

In the vehicle, Anya leans her head on my shoulder. It’s been a long day. No doubt the excitement wore her out. I kiss her forehead and breathe in her essence. I want to fuck her, my cock fills with excitement, but I let her rest.

I escort her to the jet, and after take-off, I put her in the cabin in the back, laying her on the bed. I take her heels off and make her comfortable. I’m thrilled I am the one to take her on her first trip to Paris. I thought she would be annoying, like a kitten sniffing catnip, but instead, I find a woman searching for her own identity and place in the world. Her goals are admirable. Maybe she’ll be able to work for us one day.

Anya walks beside me to the waiting vehicle, and we make our way home. At the top of the steps, she turns her pert face up to me. I’m filled with lusty thoughts. My cock is ready to rip a seam in my three-thousand-euro suit.

“Thank you for the incredible trip,” she murmurs dreamily.

“My pleasure. It’s been tense, y’know, in the wake of all that’s happened. It’s nice to get out.”

“Yes, it was,” is all she can eke out before my lips crush hers. Her red lipstick won’t be tidy after our lips devour each other and my tongue makes its way into her mouth. She doesn’t fight me. No longer do I have the battle of wills and my tongue dominates her mouth, before moving to her neck, where I suck overzealously. I curse to myself, I don’t want to mar her silken, perfect neck with a hickey. On the other hand, I’m marking my woman. There is no doubt she’s mine, now and forever.

I scoop her into my arms and her arms slide around my neck as she nuzzles my chest. I wish I could feel her skin on my chest and curse my shirt with a million buttons and cufflinks. I can’t get to my bed fast enough. Once I toss her on my bed, I unclasp the cuff links and throw them on my bureau, then shuck my clothes with haste, kicking my shoes off without a care as to where they land.

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