Deceitful Vows by Brook Wilder

 

Chapter 23

Paige

 

Dmitri sits in the cart, looking down on us, smirking. His hair has fallen into his eyes. “Your guests are waiting patiently to eat cake.”

 

Blushing, I pull down my skirt as Andrei stands up. I want to crawl away out of embarrassment. One more second, and I would’ve been ready to beg Andrei to fuck me.

 

I’m not stupid, but I’m acting like it. He’s trying to catch a killer by luring them out, and I had to play the part of the blushing bride. Well, he certainly got the blushing part. Here I was, about to cum all over his hand. I wince at my near slipup.

 

This behavior is going to get me killed. 

 

But Dmitri has little interest in what I’m doing. He speaks to Andrei as if I don’t exist. “Save the honeymoon for later, Andrei Vasilyevich. It’s time to return to the banquet hall, so we can all go home in one piece.”

 

Andrei nods. “Take the cart, and we’ll take the ATV.”

 

“I could walk faster.”

 

Andrei shoots Dmitri a look, and Dmitri points at the train on my dress. Andrei understands, and we take the cart while Dmitri follows behind slowly in the ATV.

 

“How many people know our marriage is fake?” I ask Andrei quietly as I inspect the grass stains on the front of my wrinkled dress.

 

“Everyone.” He places his hand between my legs. “Well. Almost everyone,” he says.

 

My face flames as I catch his meaning quickly. I push his hand away and cross my legs.

 

“You were very wet, moya nevesta.” He puts both hands on the wheel. “Perhaps we will have a real wedding night.”

 

“I was upset,” I lied. “And you took advantage.”

 

Andrei chuckles. “I took no advantage, Paige Geraldovna. You can’t hide how wet you were for your husband. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“I was faking it,” I hiss. “Just like this marriage.”

 

“Of course.” The smirk never leaves his face. “I’ll tell you a secret. I want you too, moya nevesta.” 

 

I scoot away from Andrei as he tries to help me out of the cart. I stumble on the train of the ridiculous dress, and when Dmitri tries to reach for me, I yank myself away from him too.

 

They must think I’m a brat. Let them.

 

None of them get it. They kidnapped me, and I have every right to be furious. I head toward the door, hurrying when I hear them chuckling behind my back. Assholes. But Andrei doesn’t let me go too far away. His arm rests gently on my elbow as he guides me back down the hall.

 

Dmitri opens the door to the banquet room and everything stops, including me. I stare into the crowded room, and the people stare back at me. Andrei’s hand moves possessively to my lower back.

 

I don’t move away. My knees shake under my dress as we become the center of attention.

 

Get with it, Paige. You’re the bride. Of course, everyone is staring at you.

 

We take a step into the room, and a wave of palpable relief hits me. It’s not only me who feels it. It’s everyone in the room. What did they think happened? I tremble, recalling Dmitri’s quip. Everyone is patiently waiting … Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew we were all bait, but now I realize that they had expected the worst.

 

They thought I was dead.

 

My steps falter, and Andrei takes my hand as he leads me to the main table.

 

Natasha stands up from my chair, cool as a thief. She slinks toward me and plucks something out of my hair. A blade of grass? She holds it up for a second and smirks before tossing it away. Someone chuckles and then others join in. Relief changes to giddiness. The reception morphs into a fierce party as it becomes clear that no one is coming to spoil it by shooting half the guests.

 

The wedding cake is cut and served without us cutting it. Champagne flows like water, and laughter begins to erupt as the servers join in the festivities.

 

Natasha smirks at my skirt. I glance down at the grass stains on the back. I’m thankful there’s not a big wet spot too. I glance up at Andrei’s ruffled hair and then strictly avoid all eye contact.

 

My knees stop shaking, and I hurry toward my chair as the music starts.

 

Eva beams, a pleased smile on her face. Sighing, I let her fuss over me, pulling another blade of grass out of my hair. “I’m so happy,” she says, reaching for my hand. “Andrei has chosen well, my Paige.”

 

She continues to dote on me, motioning a bridesmaid over. Together, they discreetly fix my veil. I look straight ahead. These are all things I once used to believe my mother would do for me on my wedding day.

 

You shouldn’t be thankful. These people are the worst kind of crazy.

 

“My Andrushka will take care of you,” she continues. “He is not his father, no matter how hard he tries to be.”

 

I grimace and say nothing. If this is meant to reassure me, it’s doing the exact opposite. I glance over at Andrei, my gaze settling on his smile as he jokes with a guard standing in front of the table.

 

And slowly I realize the men in black have formed a semicircle around us. A human wall of protection. Finally, I exhale deeply and lean back in my chair. My gaze finds Andrei again, like it did the first time I saw him.

 

I know without looking when he’s near. He won’t leave my side.

 

He catches my gaze and looks back at me. The smile slips off his face for a moment and is replaced by an intense look. I’ve seen that look before. It’s as if he’s trying to figure something out. Or maybe he’s trying to figure out what to do with me now.

 

But then he turns back to his men, laughing, and the moment is lost. Natasha breaks into the circle and holds a hand out to him. Andrei nods and lets her lead him onto the dance floor. I guess we won’t be having the first dance.

 

“You look very beautiful, my dear,” Eva assures me with a squeeze of the hand.

 

“Thank you.” I watch my fake husband dance to a fast beat with another woman while a circle of armed men remain around me and Eva.

 

I can’t help but feel jealousy welling up inside of me at the sight.

 

“Our men want us near,” Eva says as she grips my hand gently. “We must support their choices, patiently and quietly. But never forget, you are his wife.”

 

Andrei glances over. The happiness dissolves off his face whenever he looks at me. He says something to Natasha, and she sashays off to find someone else to dance with. Andrei walks back toward the table.

 

Jealousy scores my insides at the sight.

 

Did you also tell her you had a Lamborghini parked outside?

 

I get up from my chair, march around the table, and grab a startled Dmitri’s hand. I drag him out onto the floor, past a questioning Andrei.

 

“What are you doing?” Dmitri asks.

 

“Dancing,” I snap, surprising myself with the bitterness of my voice. “It’s my wedding, right? Don’t I get to enjoy myself?” Maybe I said it too loudly. I catch a few gawks from the crowd before a peal of laughter rings out.

 

I try to move to Imagine Dragons in the voluminous dress, but I can barely move from side to side. Dmitri gets into the music, spinning in the middle of the dance floor and dancing around me in circles. Try as I might, I can’t help feeling a smile rising up on my face.

 

Soon, I’m laughing with everyone else. People start streaming onto the dance floor, and I become the center of the crowd, not watching from the sidelines.

 

I close my eyes and spin.

 

When I open them again, Andrei is standing in front of me.

 

Wordlessly, he takes me into his arms, and we dance in the center of the wild confusion as if we’re alone on the floor.

 

His fingers rest gently on my waist as I stare into his eyes. My thoughts take me back to the day I tried on that other dress. The one far too inappropriate to wear here. I sigh as if his hands were brushing over my nipples through the thin fabric again. My breathing lowers as I step closer and feel his heat pressing against me.

 

Desire becomes a magnet drawing me to him. But what will happen now that the wedding is over? Am I no longer useful? Andrei has made no effort to hide his attraction. The more he wants me, the better my chances of survival.

 

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I move against Andrei. Playing with his hair as the music shifts to a faster beat, I pretend I’m someone else. Someone sexier and less uptight. Maybe someone like Natasha, who can walk around effortlessly in heels and with a gun strapped to her thigh. He must admire that.

 

Did he ever fuck her? A jealous little monster asks at the back of my head.

 

I step away from him and add some spice to my moves. When I spin and land in Andrei’s arms, I receive a cheer for my efforts. He tugs me close, pausing on the verge of a kiss, but then he spins me away.

 

He stands behind me, my hands on his strong thighs. I ease my hands up suggestively as I sway my hips. He grabs my hands and spins me again.

 

“Is this what you want?” I take the edge of the veil and pull it across my chest.

 

A moan slips from my lips as his hand brushes my breast. And just like that, I’m soaking wet again.

 

The song ends, and I’m shining with sweat. I glance toward the front table, and Eva is smiling broadly. A huge difference from the last wedding we attended. She blows me a kiss, and my heart sinks.

 

She actually believes we’re a couple.

 

I take a step away and Andrei grabs my arm. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I explain.

 

He motions to a guard. “Go with her.”

 

Hurriedly, I exit for the bathroom, holding the hem of the dress as the man follows me. He stands by the door as I rush in. I splash my face with cold water, accepting the fact that I struggle to think clearly around Andrei. Why else would I fall for my tormentor? I must be insane to find him attractive.

 

Am I so damaged that I would want a man who treats me like this?

 

My lust dampens down to nothing but a wet spot in my panties. I lock myself in a stall and wrestle with my dress. When I step out of the stall, I’m not alone. The man sent to guard me is standing inside the room, staring at me.

 

“What’s wrong?” I walk toward the door, but he blocks my way.

 

“I like the way you move.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

He squares his shoulders. “I like the way you move.” He repeats himself as his gaze travels downward. “And I’m betting you’re a screamer.”

 

Oh my God, ew. I hold out my hand. “I’m not interested.”

 

“I may not be as big as Andrei Vasilyevich, but I’m sure I’m as good as Dmitri.”

 

“I just danced with him.”

 

“Did he turn you down? I won’t.”

 

“He’s just a friend,” I say before I can stop myself. What the hell is wrong with me? Dmitri is not my friend. His purpose is to guard me, not be my friend.

 

The man laughs at that. “You lie. You look like you want a good hard fuck. But can’t get one.” He leans too close. “I’m a great fuck.”

 

“I said I’m not interested!” I try to back away, but there’s nowhere to go. “Andrei won’t like this.”

 

“He won’t care.” The man laughs darkly. “It’s all pretend.” He grabs his bulge. “Well, not everything.” He takes his hand and places it on my chest. “You like to play?” he says. “You like it when men treat you rough? Treat you like the horny bitch that you are?”

 

I move back as quickly as I can, but the fucking dress trips me up. Instead, I end up sprawled on the floor. My legs fly open as I struggle to pull the hem down on my dress.

 

“Help!” I shriek.

 

His eyes are hungry as he looks up my skirt. I close my legs, but he descends onto the floor atop of me. Strong hands push my ankles apart and I scream louder. My legs kick uselessly against the air as I feel his meaty hand close around my mouth.