Page 93 of Twisted Prince

GLEB

Taking a deep, calming breath, I release it slowly before slipping out from behind the steering wheel of the rented dark-blue sedan, button my fresh suit jacket, and climb the front steps of Pyotr and Silvia’s Brooklyn home for the second time today.

It feels odd to be driving around the family-friendly car rather than my Triumph Daytona, but we’ll need the car seat to take Gabby home after we go to the courthouse. My nerves tingle just thinking about it.

Marrying Mel.

“You clean up nice,” Pyotr states as soon as I step through the front door.

He’s already dressed in a suit and tie, and it would seem he’s been put in charge of the two toddlers, who are both dressed in miniature-sized formal wear.

“You too.” I nod toward Gabby. “Where’d that dress come from?”

“It’s one of Isla’s old ones. Silvia insisted on keeping her favorites in case we have another girl.”

My lips twitch at the subtle twinkle in his eye at the idea. “You planning on having another?”

“I wouldn’t say planning, but it’s not entirely out of the range of possibilities, I suppose.”

“Where are Silvia and Mel?” I ask.

“Still getting ready. Silvia insisted on finding something in her closet that’s suitable for the occasion.” Pyotr shakes his head, an indulgent smile curling his lips. Then, his sharp gaze focuses more closely on me. “You ready for this?”

Swallowing the tidal wave of emotions that surges through me, I nod.

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for this kind of wedding.

Still, anticipation wars with my self-disgust, as it has been since I left Mel and Gabby in the capable hands of the Veles family so I could go shower and put on a suit—a formality Silvia insisted upon if we were going to do this on such short notice.

But I can’t get the conflicting emotions under control.

It feels like Pyotr is handing me everything I’ve ever wanted—the woman I desire, safe and living under my roof, and now ready to be my wife. Only Mel doesn’t want me. She’s doing this to save herself and her daughter.

And that makes me feel all the more selfish and sadistic—if not masochistic—for wanting this.

Because I’m agonizingly torn between the urge to count my blessings and take advantage of the situation or be the gentleman Mel deserves in her life—giving her the space she so clearly yearns for.

Even if it hurts, I can’t blame her. Men have only ever used her for their own ends. So, looking at this like a true marriage would make me just as bad as the rest of them—when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want me in her life. Not like that.

“You boys ready to see the bride?” Silvia quips, excitement brimming in her tone as she quickly descends the steps.

Pyotr stands from his crouch next to Gabby, and we both watch as Silvia gestures for Mel to come down.

My heart skips several beats as her feet appear, clad in ivory pumps that come to a sharp point. The tea-length dress that follows is the same shade of ivory, with gauzy layers of skirt embroidered with lace.

It sinches tightly around Mel’s trim waist before the lace completely covers the heart-shaped bodice. The fabric leaves her collarbones on full display, but the near-transparent lace embroidered sleeves extend all the way down to her wrists.

“It’s what I wore to Nicolai’s baptism, but I think it works quite well, don’t you?” Silvia asks as she joins us to watch Mel continue down the stairs.

If words could describe how stunning Mel looks, “quite well” would not be in the mix. Her hair is piled high on her head, with soft curls cascading down around her face. Her makeup is subtle but calls attention to the striking tear-drop shape of her eyes and her thick lashes.

Her full lips are painted a rich ruby that makes them dangerously more kissable, and when she traps her bottom lip nervously between her white teeth, it takes every ounce of my self-restraint not to groan.

“You look beautiful, Mel,” Pyotr states beside me, urging me to come out of my mute state.

But my tongue feels like it’s been tied in knots.

“You like it?” Her lips break into a stunning smile as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and gives us a twirl, revealing the keyhole back that leaves everything from her sharp shoulder blades down to her waist on full display. And when she turns to face us once more, her eyes land on me.

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