Page 153 of Wrapped in Perfection

"Turn," I instruct him, and he does. Tears well in my eyes as I wash his back. His talk about ruining everything we've built is a knife shredding my heart. All I want is to be his, no matter the consequences.

He doesn't speak as I wash him.

I make sure every drop of blood is off his skin. "You're clean." I go to step out of the shower, and he tugs me into him. His hand palms the back of my head, and he makes me look at him.

"I don't want you to resent me down the road."

"I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions."

His lips twitch. "No, you aren't."

"Glad you're finding this funny."

His eyes light with fire. He moves me back against the wall. The warmth of his body presses against mine.

Tingles race into my core. It's no different than any other time he touches me. My chest rises and falls faster.

He holds my cheeks and brings his lips an inch from mine. "You are my life. There's no one I love more or care more for. Every moment I've had with you, I cherish. You deserve a man a thousand times better than me. But—"

"No, I—"

He covers my lips with his thumb. "As I was saying, but I'm selfish. And as much as you should run from me, my life, I greedily want you never to leave my side. So I want you to marry me. If it is in the cards, I want you to bear my children. I want all of the world to know that you are mine, and no one can have you but me. So I'm asking you if you'll be a crazy woman and not run from me but instead be my wife?"

My insides quiver. Tears run down my cheeks. "Yes."

"Yes, you'll be crazy?" He smirks.

I laugh. "Yes."

He kisses me then drops his hand to my ass, pulling me as close to him as possible.

When I met him, I was Anna Monroe. Lost. Hurt. A woman suffering in silence who didn't know who she was and hated so many things about herself she shouldn't have.

He changed everything for me. He made me see the brilliance within myself. He taught me what it meant for a man to truly love a woman.

It may not yet be on paper, but I am already Mrs. Dmitri Ivanov. We made our vows in this shower, the first night we were ever together.

Separate, we are tainted, our pasts weaved with sorrow.

Together, we are whole and unbreakable.

And all I wish to do is spend the rest of our lives wrapped in our perfection.

Epilogue

Dmitri

Five Years Later

"I'm Anna Ivanov.It's nice to meet you," my kotik says in Russian and beams. It's how she always looks whenever she introduces herself to anyone.

I squeeze her waist then let go. I hug and kiss Zlata Turgenev's cheek then shake her husband, Gabor's, hand after he pulls back from kissing Anna's cheek.

Zlata and Gabor just moved to Chicago from Russia and bought an apartment building they are renovating into high-end, luxury condos. One of their friends is a client of Anna's and recommended her. When she scheduled the meeting, Zlata said they were struggling with some zoning issues. They don't speak English very well, which is also adding to their struggles. Anna suggested I come to see if I could give them any direction.

We're at the Russian restaurant I first took Anna to. The hostess seats us in a booth. We get through the small talk, order our food, and we discuss the zoning issues. I write down my contact in the zoning department who speaks Russian and will help Gabor. His problems aren't that big of a deal, but it's not surprising he's come across barriers without speaking English.

Things turn to the building's interior design, and I sit back, enjoying every minute of watching Anna deal with any hard question the Turgenev's ask, or when they try to lower her rates. Gabor has a bit of male chauvinism in him and addresses me several times. He wants me to step in and agree with him on things, but I say nothing, except to turn the conversation back to my kotik. Anna's in charge, and if he's going to work with her, he's going to give her the same respect he would give me.

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