Page 36 of Bratva's Stolen Bride
FELIKS
I knew this was inevitable, but where love is as familiar to Payton as her literal own name, I’m an infant, unschooled in this.
I stare at her. So small, so sweet. The thought of giving her up is enough to make me want to burn and smash and roar.
She wants me to tell her I love her. Even I, emotionally incompetent man that I am, can see that.
Terror grips my throat.
I can’t say it.
Love? What do I know of it? What do I understand of that tender feeling when my whole life has been brutal choices and hard knocks? I’m as unprepared as a lion is for a gun fight.
“I told you not to ask questions you do not want the answer to, lisichka,” I echo my warning from the plane.
“Do you love me?” Those big blue eyes regard me earnestly.
It works as well now as it did then. I sigh.
How is it that I’m wealthy and successful, but utterly incompetent with the one thing I’ve just discovered means the most to me? Payton.
I try. I lick my lips, and will the words to emerge.
They don’t.
Even though I’ve told thousands of lies, and done unspeakable things, I can’t deceive this girl.
Saying the words is impossible.
But her face is crumpling, and fuck, no. I can’t lose her now. I have to saysomething.
An explanation.
For a second I choke, then it’s there, an involuntary spasm straight from my chest.
“I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for you, Payton.” My voice is raw rasp, but it halts the fall of her expression into disappointment. “I don’t have a ring to give you, and this wedding is…” I circle my hand to encompass the lack of guests or the usual marriage essentials. “I kidnapped you, and I haven’t done any of this the right way, in fact I’ve fucked it up. But if you’re my wife, I will give you a ring, and myself, and anything you want that I can buy, steal, sweat over, or extort. There aren’t limits to what I’d do to make you happy. After knowing you, even for this brief time, kissing you, feeling you come on my tongue, and hearing you laugh, I’ll die without you. I’ve lived forty-four years in the dark, and one day in the light, with you. I can’t go back. The moment I saw you, I knew you were it for me.”
Her mouth hangs open, but she doesn’t reply, except to step closer to me, and sharp, silky hope flows into my chest. I grip her knuckles tighter.
“People say ‘I’d die for her’, and of course I would. But I’ll do something much harder, if you’ll let me. I’d die without you, but I’ll livefor you. There won’t be a moment of my life that I’m not making your comfort and happiness my priority. You want me to be a better man? I’d do it. You want to live here, and never return to London? Absolutely. A dozen children? I’ll dote on every single one. My future is in your hands. Every penny of my fortune, of billions, is yours. Every part of my ruined soul I lay at your feet.”
Her other hand comes to rest on the lapels of my jacket.
“I don’t know what love is,” I confess, rawly. “But if it’s that, then yes.” I’ve been in mafia knife fights that were less terrifying than saying this. “And if you want me, then no force on earth, natural or manmade, or even the fucking London Mafia Syndicate, will keep me from marrying you today, and spending every day from now on protecting you and any family you’d bless us with.”
There’s a stunned silence, and the effort of not scooping Payton into my arms is an ache.
But there are stars in her eyes as she gazes up at me, and her lips tug upwards into a rueful smile. “You could just have said yes?”
Disbelief makes me light-headed. It was enough?
She hasn’t left. Yet. She hasn’t said no.
“That wouldn’t have been the truth, and you deserve the truth.”
She doesn’t reply, and I take her hand from my chest, and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles one by one, my heart vibrating against my ribcage, as I wait for her to speak.
“Don’t we need an officiant? Will it be legal?” she asks tentatively.
