Page 151 of Lethal Alliance

Then Darya appears on her father’s arm, and I catch my breath.

My mother has outdone herself; Darya’s dress is a vision of ivory silk and tiny handstitched crimson rosebuds that swirl through the bodice like a romantic storm.

However, it isn’t the dress itself, no matter how beautiful, that sucks the breath from my body, but the woman who is wearing it. Darya’s eyes blaze topaz as they lock on mine, the raw emotion in them gripping my heart fast. Her curls are piled in a thick mass behind her head, threaded with small rosebuds and star jasmine. Their scent reaches me long before she does, wrapping about me in a sensual seduction. The late-afternoon sun turns her skin the tawny, rich tone that drives me out of my mind. The dress falls from directly beneath her breasts, highlighting their ripe lushness, and skims the delicious bulge of her stomach.

It’s all I can do not to throw her down in front of the entire congregation.

I’m vaguely aware of the admiring whispers as she passes the rows of chairs. There’s a ripple of laughter as Masha throws petals in the air that get caught on a slight breeze and flutter back to catch in her ringlets. She turns to Sergei, her face screwed up.

“Taste funny,” she says, to another round of affectionate laughter.

Sergei smiles at Masha and nods gently in my direction. “Go to your papa,myshka.” I’m impressed, but not at all surprised, by his upright posture and sure step.

Masha nods solemnly and comes toward me, her little hand releasing crumpled petals as she stares around curiously at all the new faces.

“Well done, sweetheart,” I say as she reaches me. She beams at the compliment.

“Come here, Mash,” says Mickey, bending down. His tuxedo makes him appear far older than his years, and from the admiring glances of the younger ladies in the congregation, he’s making the tux work for him. Masha slips her hand into his and turns to face the crowd. “Lot of people,” she says, loud enough to elicit another round of laughter.

Ofelia, leaning heavily on Alexei’s arm for support, comes down the aisle behind Darya and Sergei. She and Abby are both wearing halter-neck indigo silk dresses that fall straight to the ground. Ofelia’s boot came off yesterday, but she’s still walking very gingerly. I’m touched to see the care Alexei shows in escorting her, seemingly attuned to her slightest hesitation.

Behind them comes Abby on Dimitry’s arm. She smiles at me down the aisle, and I smile back. I’m glad she’s here.

Sergei and Darya halt a few meters in front of me. Alexei and Dimitry wait to see Ofelia safely supported by Abby off to one side of the arch, then come to stand by Mickey. Dimitry grips my shoulder, his eyes meeting mine briefly as he turns to take his place at my side. “I’ve got your back, brother,” he murmurs, and just for a moment, we’re boys again, running through the Miami night.

I’m glad the music is still playing and I have time to compose myself before I have to speak.

Sergei steps forward, drawing Darya ahead of him so she faces me. His eyes sparkle a deep, joyful blue as they rest on his daughter. He leans forward to kiss her cheek, then turns to me and places her hand in mine.

“I am giving my world to you,” he says in Russian.

I place my hand over his and answer in the same language. “My world is hers, as is my life.”

Sergei nods, then steps back and takes his seat beside my mother. Her hand slides into his, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

I barely notice the words the minister says. There is only Darya’s eyes, luminous in the golden sunlight, her scent wreathed about me like a spell, the silken touch of her hand in mine. Then Dimitry is stepping forward with the rings, and I slide the band made by my father’s hands onto Darya’s finger as I repeat the minister’s vows.

You are here, Papasha. You may not be at my side, but you are here with me, forever.

A slight breeze stirs the holm oak above in answer, and I smile.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Darya’s lips beneath mine are a sweet benediction, the end of loneliness and the beginning of a life I never thought I had a right to. “I love you,” she whispers in my ear, and I cradle her against me, my world, my life, my love.

“I love you, too,” I say.

Epilogue

DARYA

It’s a month after I married Roman in a sunlit meadow, surrounded by wildflowers and a sea of love, when we finally make the trip to Miami to open the vault.

We make the trip through the basement tunnels as a group. I was worried the girls would be upset by coming back to the place where they were held captive. But to my surprise, all they wanted to know was if Alexei would be there. Now that we are all here together, Masha is clinging tightly to Papa’s hand on one side and Rosa’s on the other. Lars, who never seems to leave Alexei’s side, has his arm through Ofelia’s, gently guiding her every step. Mickey brings up the rear.

Abby has already left for Australia, and Dimitry has been taking care of business in Spain while Roman and I honeymooned in the Greek islands.

I sayislandslike we spent time traveling around them.

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