Page 87 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
“You’re way past help,” Kira teases her sister.
“Oh, shush, you’re weirder than I am,” Katya retorts.
“Belle, did you go to that boutique I told you about?” Kira asks, turning to Ardalion’s wife.
Belle does a little curtsey and spins to show us her long-sleeved soft wool dress that she’s wearing with leather boots. “What do you think?”
“I knew you’d love that place. The moment I saw it, I thought of you. Everything in there is your style.”
“I bought a lot,” Belle laughs. “Poor Ard was so patient with me, giving me his opinion on everything I tried on.”
“You’re lucky you found someone who has the patience to shop with you,” Kira laughs. “One day, I dream of having a man like that.”
Ardalion and Emmanuil come through to the living room, followed by my brother. “Kris.” I hurry to hug him hello. “Welcome to our home,” I grin, gesturing around the cozy living room, filled with all the people I love most in the world.
“Whatever is cooking smells so damn good,” he says, hugging me tight.
“It’s your favorite.”
“Lamb stew. You’re getting a five-star review,” he teases me.
Emmanuil steps to my side, and I lean against him, snuggling under his arm while our friends and family laugh and talk and drink a little too much vodka. His cousins tell the most hilarious stories of what they got up to while traveling. Every now and then, someone throws another log into the fireplace, and my heart is so filled with love and happiness that I can barely contain myself.
My brother and Emmanuil sit opposite each other at the table, talking as though they’re old friends. Ardalion and Kris are getting along great, too, and the three men have an alliance that I think would set fear into any of their rivals. Our families are strong. And we’re all very protective of each other.
Despite my fear about what my father has planned, I know he will be in for more of a fight than he can imagine if he tries anything.
Dinner is fantastic, and the whole evening is perfect.
But by the time we usher our last guest out, I’m yawning, holding onto Emmanuil, and wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed with him.
He closes the door and pulls me into his arms, lifting me, cradling me against his chest. “Hi, kitten,” he whispers against my cheek, kissing gently over my face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” I grin, snuggling into him.
“I’ve waited all night to find out,” he says as he carries me upstairs to our bedroom.
“To find out what?” I ask, confused.
“What color you have on underneath this beautiful blue sweater.”
I start giggling, shaking my head. “You were thinking about it at the dinner table, weren’t you?” I grin.
“And when we were sitting by the fire,” he nods.
“Do you want the answer?” I ask, mischief in my eyes.
“Well, I planned to look for myself.” He knits his brows.
“No color,” I tell him.
His mouth drops open, and he walks faster, hurrying to the room.
“You are very lucky you kept that a secret, Anya. I would have dragged you up here in the middle of dinner if I’d found out.”
“I thought about telling you at the table, whispering it in your ear, but I know you too well,” I grin.
He throws me onto the bed, and I squeal in fright.
