He held her eyes in utmost solemnity. “I do.”
Before she could kiss him, he beat her to it. In seconds he had her arching beneath him, begging for his invasion. But he pulled back, poignancy and teasing a heady mixture in his eyes. “So when will you officially make an honest man out of me?”
And she did something an hour ago she’d thought she’d never do again. She giggled.
He really was a miracle. And a miracle worker.
Raining kisses on every part of him she could reach, she said, “As soon as you can get your scattered troops to regroup.”
As if he’d been coiled and waiting to launch into action, he sprang up, got out his phone, started barking orders for everyone to fall back into formation.
Half an hour later, he looked down at her in triumph. “As per your command, moya dusha, tomorrow you become Dr. Anastasia Konstantinov.”
Pulling him down over her, loving him fiercely, endlessly, she sighed into his lips. “Tomorrow, and forever.”
Before he claimed her, took them both back from the brush with devastation to their exclusive heaven, he pledged, “At least that long.”
Epilogue
“Forgive yourself, Grace.”
At his words, Anastasia’s mother turned to Ivan with a gasp.
She’d been subdued all through the wedding ceremony, and now during the reception she’d walked into a corner as if she wanted to disappear. Everyone thought her state was recurrent desolation over Alex’s loss, and Ivan and Anastasia let everyone believe that. The secret of what she’d done would never get outside the four who knew it.
“I forgive you,” he said. “And I do thank you for saving my family, for saving yours. But mostly for saving Anastasia. I would have forgiven you had you cost me all my limbs for this alone.” As the woman’s eyes filled, he persisted. “And I also want you to believe that Alex’s death wasn’t punishment for you, or else fate must have seen fit to punish me and everyone who loved him, too, since his death hurt us all irrevocably.”
As her tears fell, he reached for her arm, gave it a gentle squeeze. And she crumpled against him, too weak to do anything but accept his absolution, letting him take her in his embrace.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, this woman who’d once been a second mother to him, the mother of the love of his life, the reason for everything he was and did.
“People in sweeping upheavals and grave dangers make terrible decisions. But whatever your sins against me, just that you’ve saved Anastasia, so I could find her so many years later, love her, live for her, evens the scales and way more. Anastasia loves you. It’s why she was so hurt. But I promise I’ll do everything to heal her so she will open up to you again. It’s what Alex would have wanted. For us all to be happy, to honor his memory. And in his memory, there will be no more losses and injuries. Never on my account, or on my watch.”
A choking sound made him turn around. And there she was, Anastasia, his bride, looking far better than his wildest fantasies. She was his reward from fate, with every blessing the world had to offer in her eyes.
They’d exchanged vows an hour ago, were now husband and wife. One. At last and forever.
He extended a hand to her, and she took it at once, let him reel her in so she faced her mother.
He pressed a cherishing kiss against her flushed cheek, murmured his love and encouragement. Returning the kiss, her eyes filling with that gratitude he’d yet to make her stop feeling, she turned to her mother.
“We’ll be all right, Mom. Thanks to Ivan.”
The woman reached out a hand, asking Anastasia’s permission for intimacy. His palm caressed Anastasia’s back, urging her to take her mother’s hand. As soon as she did, the woman pulled her into a brief, though fervent hug.
Then, as if she didn’t want to push her luck further, with tears running down her face, Grace turned and rushed away.
After watching her mother’s departure, Anastasia turned to Ivan, face brightening, eyes igniting.
Before he could scoop her to his heart again, a big hand slapped him hard on the back. Dammit.
“So tell me, Wildcard, how do you feel now you’re a married man?”
He turned to Antonio, who was grinning at him wickedly, everything right with his world again now that he’d gotten his Liliana to forgive, and marry him, too. Something Ivan had had a hand in.
While he’d been with Anastasia in Russia, Antonio had called him in a bleak state, asked him to come take what amounted to his last will and testament, to give to Liliana after he’d left, ostensibly to commit accidental suicide on some frontline. Ivan had rushed to his side, then to Liliana’s to make her stop him. Which she had.