Page 222 of Bride By Coronation

He puffs his chest out. "I am getting pretty good, aren't I?"

I laugh. It's a running joke between us, but he's never had any issues as far as I'm concerned.

He asks, "So, what can I help you with so you can get started?"

I bite on my lip and tilt my head.

"I need you to find a top logo designer for me."

"Okay. I can do that," he says.

I add, "I'm naming it O'Malley-Petrov Designs. I think I want something with an O and P for the logo."

Her freezes. "Petrov?"

I nod. "Yep."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asks, concerned.

I smile and rise on my tiptoes. I kiss him, then answer, "Yes. Petrov is our children's namesake. We aren't going to run from it. We'll show the world who we are so our children don't carry the burden of the past."

He stares at me.

I tease, "Our kids are O'Malley's too, so we can't forget that." I wink.

He chuckles.

"Glad you're on board," I declare.

He nods, studying me further.

"What?"

He slides his hand on my cheek and tilts my face up. He leans over it and says, "This is why your father knew you were meant to be queen."

"I'm not following," I admit.

"You're one of a kind, Mrs. Petrov."

I arch my eyebrows. "And I'm still not following."

He grins. "It's okay, little bird. I understand it."

I pout. "You're not going to fill me in?"

Mischief brightens his gaze. He slides his finger across the top of my dress, suggesting, "It might take all day."

My core lights on fire. I take a deep breath and meet his eyes, taunting, "My schedule is clear."

He orders, "Then go into the bedroom and take this off. I'll do my best to make sure you understand...even if it takes us until morning."

EPILOGUE

Kirill

18 Months Later

Lights flash, and music blares. The crowd claps as the models return behind the stage.

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