Sergei, Volume 2 (15 page)

The doors were flung open, and the processional music began. Our ring bearer and flower girl entered the church first and then Vivian followed not far behind. Instead of a huge wedding party, I had opted for only a matron of honor. Until the surprise arrival of Sergei's mother and brother, Ivan had been tapped to stand as best man, but I had no doubt Vladimir would be standing next to Sergei now.

With my mother at my side, I slowly made my way down the aisle of a packed church. My family and friends had overflowed to the back pews of Sergei's side, but he had a surprising showing, too. I almost did a double-take when I spotted Ten in a suit and tie at the end of one of the front pews. He looked shockingly handsome but still just as dangerous. Nikolai stood in the first row with Sergei's mother, Ivan and Erin. Yuri and Lena and Dimitri, Benny and Sofia were behind them.

And there, waiting for me at the end of the aisle, was Sergei. Standing proud and tall, he looked devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo. Vladimir stood next to him, a friendly grin making him look so carefree and happy. He actually reached out and clapped Sergei's shoulder. I couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever it was, Sergei nodded and smiled.

When Sergei reached for my hand, I placed my fingers atop his. My eyes widened when I felt the unmistakable flutter of movement in my belly. For the first time, I could feel one or both of our babies moving! If that wasn't a sign of good fortune, I didn't know what was.

As the pastor addressed the congregation, Sergei mouthed three words—I love you—and my heart sang.

* * *

Sergei had always thought that Russians threw the best parties, but after seeing Bianca's family in action, he was ready to change that opinion. He had been apprehensive about mixing their families, friends and copious amounts of alcohol, but damn if didn't seem to be working beautifully. Not quite believing his eyes, he sat with Bianca on his lap and watched as a tipsy Ivan, a surprisingly agile Three Fingered Arty and a clapping Boychenko tried to keep up with the intricate steps of a line dance.

"All right," Erin said with a laugh. "I've got to save my man from himself."

Bianca giggled as Erin tried to tug Ivan off the dance floor. When he wouldn't be swayed, she whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it worked. The next instant, Ivan swept Erin into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder like a prize. The cheering whoops that erupted from that move filled the reception hall and drowned out the music. Ivan carried her over to their table, grabbed her small clutch and bent down give Bianca a noisy kiss on the cheek. He smacked Sergei's back and gave a few words of ribald encouragement before leaving the party with his wife slung over his shoulder like some kind of Viking.

"If you ever do that to me," Bianca playfully warned with a wagging finger.

Sergei nibbled her fingertip and sucked it gently. "I'll make sure it isn't in public." He settled his hands on her hips. "In fact, I might carry you into our hotel suite like that."

Her eyes flashed with lust. "Well, maybe just once."

He laughed and kissed her hard. When they broke apart, he scanned the big room to make sure everyone was having a good time. Dimitri and Benny had already taken little Sofia home, but Sergei had gotten a chance to hold her. She was the sweetest thing with her dark hair and blue eyes. He had managed to rock her to sleep while her parents ate an unrushed meal. Sergei had considered it practice for the many sleepless nights he was sure awaited him.

Yuri and Lena were still on the dance floor. He had never seen a couple who enjoyed dancing so much. Remembering Nikolai and Vivian's wedding reception, he fully expected the billionaire to get totally pissed and dance on tables again. He only hoped he was still here when it happened. Apparently, it had been quite a thing to behold.

In a far corner of the reception hall, he spotted Ten getting cozy with one of Bianca's second or third cousins. She was an older woman who clearly knew the score so he didn't worry too much. Knowing Ten's reputation, she wouldn't be the only woman he took home tonight.

He had been worried that there wouldn't be much of a showing from his side of the guest list, but his concern had been unfounded. He suspected most of that was due to Nikolai and Vivian. Wherever the king and queen went, so did the court. Tonight, they had a table nearby. Nikolai had his arm around his wife's small waist. Hi hand rested atop her belly, idly stroking her and soothing the child she carried.

His mother had naturally gravitated that way. She chatted with some of the older wives of the boss' soldiers and captains. Every now and then, she would glance at him and smile. Whatever her earlier reservations about accepting Bianca into the family, she had welcomed her today with open arms and a loving heart.

"That's interesting." Bianca gestured with a tip of her head toward the dance floor. "Look who Vova is dancing with, Sergei."

He smiled at the way she had already taken to calling his brother by his nickname. When he found his brother slow dancing with Zoya, he wasn't that surprised. Vladimir had always been fond of blondes, especially the petite ones like the jewelry designer.

When the song ended, Boychenko approached the table and asked Bianca if she wanted to dance. He patted her hip and encouraged her to enjoy herself. She had hardly left his sight before the boss settled into the empty chair next to him. Nikolai had been nursing the same beer all night. While everyone else got drunk, the boss was always careful, especially with his wife nearby and relying on him to keep her safe.

"It was a beautiful wedding, Sergei." Nikolai leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. "Perfect."

"Yes." He watched Bianca smiling and laughing with Boy. "The kid can dance."

Nikolai laughed. "He's a good kid. There's potential there."

Once the same had been said about him. Did the boss regret letting him go?

"This isn't the place or the time, Sergei, but Kostya mentioned you had asked him about
nochniye volki
. Is there something I should know?"

He glanced at Nikolai. The older man was asking casually, but his eyes were serious. "This isn't the time," Sergei agreed, "but…" Shifting his position, he faced the boss and explained the issue at hand. "Bianca and her mother are going to meet with Adam Blake at the prison."

Nikolai blinked. "Why?"

"He wants to apologize."

The boss narrowed his eyes. "What a steaming pile of bullshit that is."

"I agree."

"So tell her she isn't going."

"It's not that easy."

"It is," Nikolai replied firmly. "She is your wife. You tell her it's not safe, and she isn't going."

He started to ask the boss how well that worked with Vivian but bit his tongue instead. "We've discussed it. She's going."

Nikolai glanced away and grunted with disapproval. After a few tense seconds, he turned back and said, "I'll do what I can. The prison he is at doesn't have any of our men in it. I would have to call in favors."

Sergei understood the implicit warning there. If the boss had to call in favors, he was going to come back to Sergei at some point to ask him to repay them. "I understand."

Nikolai nodded. He motioned toward the dance floor. "I think your bride is getting tired." He rose from his seat and patted Sergei's back. "I'll make sure the limo is ready."

Half an hour later, after tossing the bouquet and garter, Sergei rushed Bianca out of the reception hall and into the waiting car. Flower petals and rice pelted them as they made their mad dash away from their party. Like a couple of teenagers, they made out in the backseat and whispered hotly to one another. He couldn't wait to get her up to their suite and strip her out of that beautiful dress. He intended to spend the night reminding her why she had chosen him as her husband.

As promised, he carried her into their suite but he didn't throw her over his shoulder in the end. He feared it wasn't safe in her pregnant state so he cradled her in his arms and gently placed her on the bed. Taking his time, he stripped away her gown and underclothes. He did it reverently and as if unwrapping a special gift.

After all the beer and vodka he'd had, Sergei had to duck into the restroom before things got too interesting. He took off his tux and brushed his teeth while he was in there. With her sensitive stomach, the last thing Bianca wanted was the sour bite of beer in her face.

Rock-hard and aching for her, he stepped out of the bathroom—and discovered Bianca curled on her side and fast asleep. Although disappointed that there would be no wild sex on their wedding night, he didn't mind very much. Her poor body was working overtime to make healthy babies, and it had been a very long day for her.

Shaking his head but smiling, he made sure the door was locked and turned down all of the lights except the one in the bathroom. She might get up in the middle of the night, and he wanted her to be able to see where she was going. He crawled into bed with her and molded his body to hers. She made a soft, kittenish sound of contentment and wiggled back against him.

Kissing her cheek, he draped his arm over her waist and stroked her breast. "Good night, Bianca Sakharovna."

Chapter Eleven

Awash with anxiety, I nervously rubbed my baby bump and glanced at my watch.

"Has he landed yet?" Mama didn't pause the practiced movements of her knitting needles. The clickety-clack of the bamboo sticks smacking together as she worked the long strand of fluffy yarn into a brightly colored baby hat filled the prison waiting room.

"He's supposed to land around five. He's probably just about to takeoff."

She smiled knowingly. "Five days of separation is about to drive you crazy, isn't it?"

For most of the week, Sergei had been in Las Vegas with Ivan at a mixed-martial arts championship tournament. Two of Ivan's three fighters had won their divisions. The other had come in second which was still pretty good. I hadn't been able to stomach watching the fights on cable. They reminded me too much of the violent, brutal underground matches I had watched Sergei win. Those were memories I didn't want to relive.

"I can't help it, Mama. I don't like being alone in the house without him." I shifted on the cold, hard seat and winced when one of the babies kicked my ribcage. In the six weeks since I had felt that first movement during our wedding, these two babies had gone wild in my belly. Sergei loved to curl up next to me in bed and chase their movements around my stomach with his big hand.

At first, I had felt sort of like a science experiment, but it was the only way he could feel close to them while they were growing inside me. Besides, the look of absolute wonder on his face when the babies kicked back against his fingers made my heart swell with such love. I couldn't wait for the day when he could hold them in his arms and love on them all he wanted.

"Don't you have a security system?"

Actually, I had a security system and round-the-clock guards courtesy of Nikolai. He had two of his men sitting on my house at night and outside the shop during the day. Apparently Erin had been given the same treatment while Ivan was out of town. She wasn't very fond of the men assigned to her, but I rather liked Boy and Danny. Boy had even cut the grass for me one afternoon!

"That's not what I meant, Mama."

She smiled at me again. "I know." She glanced at the pattern sticking out of her purse. "I thought you two were going to do that video message thing on your phones."

"We did." I kept my gaze fixed on my belly and prayed she wouldn't see the flush on my cheeks as I remembered some of the ways we had used technology for our benefit. Before Sergei, I never could have imagined myself stripping down and holding up my phone's camera while I brought myself to climax again and again, but that wicked husband of mine could be awfully persuasive. He used those puppy dog eyes and started telling me how much he missed me. The next thing I knew I was naked on our bed with my fingers—

"Mrs. Bradshaw? Mrs. Sakharov?" Jane Crenshaw, the social worker who had facilitated our meeting with Adam Blake, called our names from behind a fortified glass window. "We're ready for you now."

As if she visited prisons every day, Mama calmly put away her knitting and rose from her chair. I walked at her side to the locked doors that were buzzed open for us. A male guard took our phones and purses while a female patted us down. They used one of those security wands to check us for hidden weapons. I thought asking Mama to sit down and remove her prosthesis was overkill, but I bit my tongue. Who knew what kind of crazy things people tried to smuggle in here or where they tried to stick them.

Side by side, we trailed Jane into a small room where she went over the procedure and the expectations of the visit again. We had discussed this many times during the preceding weeks via phone conversations and a meeting before one of our support group get-togethers.

Although I wasn't as gung-ho about this meeting as Mama was, I hoped to get something useful out of it. I hadn't seen Adam Blake since the sentencing phase of his trial. We were both older now. I could list all the ways I had changed since then, but I wondered about him. Was he still as angry? Was he still so cruel? Was he a different man now?

We were led in to a secured room where I was going to get my answers. My stomach quivered with nervousness while we sat in our chairs and waited for him to appear. For all of Sergei's assurances, I still feared that Adam had ulterior motives. More than anything, I was terrified that he would bring up his missing brother. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? We had been warned the session today would be taped. What if he tried to get me to incriminate myself in some way?

This was a bad idea. You should have listened to Sergei. He was right. This is madness.

But it was too late to change my mind. The heavy door across the room squeaked and squealed as it was tugged open by a heavy-set prison guard. A male nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room. My eyes widened with shock at the frail prisoner sitting in the chair. There was nothing left in this sad shell of the mean, violent young man who had beaten me with his fists and tried to strangle me in that convenience store stockroom.