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He laughs and gives me a wink. “Don’t be. I eventually killed the fucker.”
And with that, I’m handed off to Danil. He smiles and takes my hand. “I’m afraid he’s right about me. I do like to lead.” He shrugs. “I’m a bit of a control freak.”
“That’s okay. I’m a terrible dancer, so lead away.”
“You’re doing great,” he says, which is just downright kind of him.
We dance for a few minutes, and every time I’m spun around, I look over to see Roman staring at me. He smiles and gives me a wink, never taking his eyes off me. When I’m spun around once more, I feel Danil’s hands leave me before they’re replaced with rough, scarred palms. I look up and meet Matvey’s dark eyes.
“Oh,” I say, so shocked it takes me a second to start moving again, and then I feel stupid for not playing it off as if it’s not a big deal. “You don’t have to do this,” I quickly say, not wanting him to feel like the dance is a requirement or anything.
He leads me around the large square we’re dancing in and says, “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be doing it.”
His body is tense, but his movements are just as graceful as the others. I want to ask what the hell happened to his hands, but there’s really no way to do that politely, so I keep my mouth shut.
He must sense my curiosity, because he says almost too quietly for me to hear, “My mom and little sister died in a fire when I was fifteen. I couldn’t get to them in time.”
I meet his dark eyes, seeing the pain that’s always right below the surface. “I’m so sorry, Matvey. I didn’t know.”
“Roman would’ve told you soon enough. He’s very protective of me, and I’m a lot to unpack,” he says with a whisper of a laugh. “He was probably trying to ease you into it, but you have a right to know.” He gives me a soft smile. “You’re family now, Emily, and it’s nice having a younger sister again.”
He gives my hand a soft squeeze when he sees a tear escape, even though I’m trying like hell to fight it. “Today is a day to be happy. We can be sad again tomorrow.”
I nod and bite my lip in an attempt to keep myself in check. He’s right. All the sadness and pain can wait until tomorrow. It’s our wedding, damn it. The worries can wait a night. I hold Matvey’s scarred hand as we dance for a few more minutes, and then familiar arms wrap around me as my husband comes to claim me again.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear.
I give Matvey a smile before Roman whisks me off again. I melt against him, because the truth is, I’ve missed him too. I rest the side of my face against his chest, breathing in the scent of his familiar cologne as he eases me into a rhythm that even my two left feet can handle. He kisses my head and presses his hand against my lower back, pulling me in even tighter against him.
“Are you hungry, baby?”
I slide my hand lower and grab his firm ass. “Starving,” I say right as he laughs and Vitaly yells, “I see that, Emily!”
Roman kisses a line down my cheek, tipping my face up so he can nibble on my bottom lip. “It hurts my pride to have my wife so sexually unsatisfied this early in our marriage.”
“Better do something about it, husband,” I whisper against his lips.
“Oh, I plan on it, little sun.”
He gives my earlobe a soft bite that sends a shock of want coursing through every cell of my body right before he lifts me up and yells to his brothers, “I’m taking my wife to bed!”
They laugh and yell things in Russian that have Roman shaking his head and smiling, even though he’s trying his best to look angry at them.
“We’ll leave you some food outside your door later so you can replenish your calories,” Vitaly yells in English before Roman carries me down the hall and into our bedroom.
One of his brothers must’ve slipped in here while we were dancing because the bed is covered in rose petals and there’s a bottle of champagne waiting for us.
“Wow. Should I keep quiet about what romantics the Melnikov brothers are?”
“Most definitely,” Roman says with a laugh. “It would ruin our reputation as ruthless killers.”
He sets me down and walks over to turn off the lights before switching on the fairy lights that have been strung up along the floor-to-ceiling windows. I laugh and smile and clap my hands because it’s so perfect and my husband is such a giant softie, and I think it’s fucking adorable.
Smiling, he walks back to me. I run my eyes over him, drinking in the sight of those broad shoulders in that black tux and the devilish glint in his green eyes. The man is pure sex, and he’s all mine. My heart skips a beat at the thought. He stops right in front of me and runs his fingers up my arm before trailing them along my collarbone. My breath hitches as his smile grows.
“You’re looking a little flushed, solnishka.”
His other hand grabs my wrist, pressing his thumb against my tattoo while one of his fingers dips inside my dress, running along the swell of my breast.
