Desperately, I said, "And I'm not going ahead of this because I'm worried."
"Oh, sweetheart, don't lie to me or to yourself. You're asking me to say you're right about making him wait. If you're sure that it's the right thing, you wouldn't have asked me."
I felt like I was thirteen again and my mom was rightfully not letting me go to Bella Carlton's birthday. She was the most popular girl in school, but everyone also knew she had been smoking marijuana since she was eleven. It hurt to accept that she was right then, and it hurt even now.
"I hate it when you're right," I mumbled.
She laughed. "You always hate it when you're not right."
"Are you my mom or am I adopted?"
Carole placed the brush down and gave me a hug. "You will always be my baby."
I sniffed in her arms. "I'm just … terrified. What can I do to stop myself from being so terrified about losing him again?"
She said simply, "Marry him."
I paled.
Someone knocked on the door before it opened to reveal Constantijin. "Walter's looking for you." He still looked strained, but he had succeeded in making his voice even. He was the most beautiful man in my eyes and would always be. I didn't want to hurt him anymore. And if it meant hurting myself – or risk hurting myself, then …
I blurted out, "Marry me."
He said right away, "Even if you look like you're about to keel over and die, I'm not going to let you off the hook, schat."
If I died now, I'd die happy. The light was back in his silvery eyes, and the smile that curved on his lips was so beautiful it made me start to cry.
"Yes, I'll marry you," Constantijin said. "And I'll marry you now."
Chapter Five
Athens, Greece
I looked at Carole in desperation. "Mom, I'm serious. I think I'm going to be sick."
She didn't even look up. She was on her knees on the carpeted floor, busily fixing the hem of my dress. "You can be sick later. You will not get out of this." She never bought that excuse when I was young, and she still didn't buy it now. Moms could be so heartless.
Alyx grimaced. "No kidding. I think I'm going to be sick, too." Actually, she looked like she was already seasick, and her green face didn't exactly go well with her rose-colored velvet dress.
She glared at me when she caught me looking at her with pity in my eyes. "I hate you," she said without heat.
I tried to laugh, but it just got stuck in my throat. My knees quaked, and I hastily clutched the railings attached to the wall. They were made of varnished wood, but they felt extremely cold between my fingers. Or maybe it was the other way around.
"I'm really going to be sick," I wailed.
"Stop being a baby and hush!"
"I hate you," Alyx said again.
"Shut up." I tried to snap at her, but it just came out as a mumble.
"Sensible people fly to Vegas when they want to have a quickie wedding. Which would be great since we were in Florida and that means just driving interstate. But NO. You had to go crazy and tell your fiancé that you would only marry him when all your friends were present. You thought he'd back out, didn't you?"
"Yes," I admitted in a small voice.
"Then you're CRAZY," Alyx yelled. "He loves you! Of course he's going to do what you asked even if it's crazy! And because of you, I had to fly in a freaking copter to get to Nik's damn yacht!" Her chest heaved. And then she was yelling again, "When I'm SEASICK!"
I decided I didn't hate her then.
"I love you."
Alyx glared at me even as she said, "I love you as much as I hate you but you better damn well marry him because by God, I am not going to do this again and if I have to force you to say yes, you are going to say yes!"
The door opened suddenly and Walter poked his head in. "It's time, folks. The priest's here."
Alyx told me dourly, "You're going to hell if the priest turns out to be seasick, too."
I didn't pay her any attention. I was sick, too, and I didn't need the ocean or the sea to be so. Everything in my body felt strange, like it was floating one moment and then gravity was trying to pull it down the next moment.
"I don't think I can do this," I whispered, looking down at my mom.
She slowly came to her feet. Like Alyx, she was also dressed in a rose-colored gown. Whereas Alyx's was strapless and figure-hugging, hers was a Grecian-styled gown with Juliet sleeves. Her only accessory was a pearl necklace, a gift from Constantijin – and a declaration of truce. For tonight at least.
Carole kissed me on the forehead. "Now chin up, my dear. It's time to walk down the aisle."
When she stepped aside, Alyx slowly walked towards me to give me a quick hug. "I love you, Yanna. I know I don't say that often enough and I'm bitchy most of the time, but really, you're the sweetest girl in the world and I'll kick C's ass if he hurts you." She stepped back. "But you see, I don't think he ever will. So take pity on him, put him out of his misery, and take his name, okay?"
"I told him I'll use a hyphen."
Alyx grinned. "You and I both know that's not going to happen."
The door opened again and this time, Walter said impatiently, "Come out now. Everyone's waiting."
Chapter Six
As Constantijin cooled his heels inside the huge reception area of Nik's yacht, memories of the times he had spent with Yanna came to him. It succeeded in keeping him calm, cool, and collected – or at least look like it.
He remembered the first time he had seen Yanna, and how his emotions were all over the place that time. He was irritated at her for wearing red, exasperated because she had actually mistook him as another applicant, and above all, he had lusted for her because she had been so sweetly and hilariously … innocent.
He remembered the first time they had fought and how hard – God, it had been so damn hard to walk away from her and keep walking away. He had missed her so damn much all those days but he had been too proud then. Had he ever told her that he used to watch her leave his building from his office window?
He remembered the first time they had made love, and it was a night that he would never forget, not even when he was a hundred years old. He had been her first lover, her virginity a gift he didn't deserve.
If only he could remember just as clearly all the words he had to say when he made his personalized vows.
"Are you nervous?" Staffan Aehrenthal asked slyly. He was Sweden's #1 Sex God and a fellow Pussketeer, a rock star who used to spend every night with a different woman. But now, he was rather famous for being possessive and completely in love with his wife.
Constantijin said very politely, "Go to hell."
Staffan burst into laughter.
"We are your friends," Rathe Wellesley, the blue-eyed Duke of Flanders and also England's #1 Heartthrob, intoned in a solemn voice.
Constantijin looked at him and between barely moving lips, he gritted out, "Join Staffan in hell. Please."
Rathe clapped him on the back. "You'll survive."
He politely gave them the finger. He wanted to kick them out of Nik's yacht, but he forgot all about revenge when he saw the woman standing at the doorway. Her hair had been twisted up, a lace veil pinned to her curls, with the rest falling down against her bare shoulders. Her gown was also made of velvet, with a white corset-styled top that tapered to a full skirt the color of a fully bloomed rose.
His heart slammed against his chest.
Yanna.
His treasure.
His schat.
Always and forever his schat.
Who was looking at another man.
His head snapped to wherever Yanna was looking. She was gazing at one of the male guests.
Drake Morrison.
Constantijin stiffened, realizing that in her gaze was a plea of help for the other man to take her away.
The wedding music that played in the background came to a screeching halt, the live musicians Constantijin had also flown out to Greece pausing in confusion when they saw the groom stalking angrily towards his bride.
Nik suppressed a smile when Yanna squeaked in surprise, belatedly realizing that a very angry Dutch billionaire was heading her way.
She froze at the look on his face. "I'm sorry, Constantijin---"
"I'm sorry too, schat, but I've had enough." Did she really fucking think he would let her look at another man – and especially that man – and release her? She looked at Drake like he could carry her away on a white horse.
Well, fuck that.
He had a Lamborghini Veneno Roadster, one of only nine models that made up the most expensive vehicle line in the world. His car could beat Morrison's damn horse anytime, and Constantijin would never let Morrison get close enough to Yanna to take her away.
He swung her up in his arms and, ignoring her screech of surprise, he took her with him as he walked back to the priest. "Start the ceremony, Father."