Our children.Plural. Because apparently I'm already planning a future with this man.
"When?" I ask.
"Today. Alexei knows a judge who'll do it quietly."
"Today?"
"Why wait? You're already carrying my child. Already wearing my mark." His hand traces the bite on my neck, making me shiver. "Might as well make it official."
"My mother really is going to kill us for not letting her be there."
"We'll tell her it was a legal formality. The real wedding comes later."
"Promise?"
"I promise." He kisses my temple. "Now, let me call Alexei and arrange everything."
As he reaches for his phone, I catch his hand.
"Mikhail?"
"Yes?"
"I'm still not taking your money."
He laughs, rich and warm. "Stubborn woman."
"Your stubborn woman, apparently."
"Mine," he agrees, and the satisfaction in his voice makes my traitorous heart skip.
I'm getting married today. To a criminal. While pregnant. And wanted by the FBI.
Mamá was right. I do make everything complicated.
Chapter fourteen
Mine to Protect
Mikhail
She's wearing white.
Not a wedding dress—we don't have time for that—but a simple white blouse she bought yesterday at a local store, paired with dark jeans. Still, watching Mariana check herself in the mirror of the courthouse bathroom, adjusting the collar to hide the bite mark I left on her neck, she's the most beautiful bride I've ever seen.
My bride. And, in a couple of minutes, my wife.
"Stop staring," she says without turning around. "It's creepy."
"It's appreciative."
"It's possessive."
"That too."
She turns to face me, and the morning light from the small window catches her face perfectly. Those amber eyes that first captivated me two years ago now carry our shared secrets—so many memories and moments together created in such a short time, and now also a child of both..
Mine.