Chapter 42

Mishka

Anton was walking fast, pulling me further and further from the barn. I giggled and tugged on his hand.

"Slow down," I teased. He turned to face me and I was stunned by the serious look on his handsome face. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Mishka. Everything is alright," he said, still solemn as he reached out to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. It had grown longer since I started living under his roof. I had been forbidden to cut or color it without approval. Something I had not thought too much about, other than a hint of rebelliousness.

I had never thought about my hair all that much, though I had thought about cutting it all off, to keep it out of the way when playing, but had not quite worked up the courage to do it. Somehow, despite my low key approach to beauty or fashion, I was apparently a bit vain about it.

"I spoke to your father this morning. I want you to know that I have his permission to do this," he said.

I was stunned by what happened next. Anton Aslanov lowered himself to one knee and pulled out a ring. It was beautiful- a sapphire surrounded by diamonds, set in a mellow looking rose gold.

"We can pick out another ring if you like. I bought this in New York, before I was certain you felt anything for me…" he looked nervous, of all things! Anton Aslanov looked nervous. "Will you marry me, Mishka?"

My jaw was hanging wide open, I realized, snapping it shut. Even though I was shocked by this turn of events, the answer rang out clear and true inside me. I did not answer right away, simply because my brain took a few moments to catch up.

Once it did, I did not hesitate.

"Yes," I said softly. Then again louder "yes, Anton, I will marry you."

He stood quickly, scooping me into his arms and spinning me in a circle. Applause came from somewhere. Cheers and loud whoops as well as clapping.

I turned to see that a crowd had formed outside the barn behind us. We were quickly surrounded by well-wishers and overwhelmed with congratulations.

"Ready, kids?"

"What? I asked," barely noticing as Anton slipped the enormous ring onto my finger.

"You have rings, right?"

"Rings for what?" I asked, looking at the man with the long white beard.

"Your wedding, sweetheart."

"What?" I squawked. "Now?"

"Yes," Anton said. "For your protection. We will have another wedding with your father present."

"Protection?" I was so nervous. I was relieved when Anastasia came up to stand beside me. She put her arm around me reassuringly. "From what?"

"From his father," she said. "And mine."

I turned to Anton. He stepped closer, taking my hand and pulling me slightly away. I turned back to look at my new friend.

"Your father, Anton?"

"He might not agree with this course of action. I would rather not give him the opportunity to interfere."

I bit my lip. Less than ten minutes ago I had not even thought of marriage. Less than ten hours ago, I had been a virgin. It was all happening too fast.

"I know this is happening quickly, but I love you Mishka. I promise to give you a proper wedding in Moscow. Two actually. Your father is already making arrangements for a ceremony in Switzerland, after I told him I would prefer he was out of harm's way when it came to the rest of my family."

My jaw dropped. Again.

"Are you certain this is best?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded. Then added "I'm sure."

"Then I agree. What should I…"

"Wear?" He asked with a relieved smile. "I think we can find something," he said mysteriously. Knowing him, he had picked out a wedding dress in New York.

Or three, I joked to myself.

But that wasn't actually such a wild thought. He very well could have picked out a wedding dress and included multiple options for my preference. It was not as if he could not afford it, I reminded myself when a hint of guilt surfaced at the expense of — imagine it! — three weddings. When it came to me, my fiancé tended to think ahead.

It made me feel safe, I realized.

Safe and loved beyond my wildest dreams.

He led me back to his cousin, whispering something in her ear. Anastasia rubbed her hand over my back reassuringly. I relaxed. Anton was watching me carefully.

She squeezed my shoulder, asking if I was ready. I exhaled and nodded. All the tension flowed out of Anton's body. I was surprised at how much his feelings impacted me. I didn't want him to be worried or upset. It mattered to me. I truly did love him.

I let Anastasia lead me into the house.

"How long have you known he was in love with you?"

I gave her a helpless look and laughed.

"I am not sure I knew until five minutes ago."

"How long have you known you were in love with him?"

"Oh, it's been ages," I said with another wry laugh. "I hated him at first. But that did not last long. And I think the seed was always there."

"It always is," Anastasia laughed gaily. "I am so glad my morning sickness eased up enough for me to come. I would not have missed this for the world!"

We shared a laugh as several maid's ran into the room carrying several dresses. A white silk, a gray silk, and a cream silk. None of which I remembered trying on. All of which were perfect for a casual wedding by the sea. Elegant, but effortless.

I tried them all on, and we were both surprised to settle on the grey silk dress. It was little more than a slip dress, but with fluttery sleeves, and a bias cut that was shockingly elegant. The color gleamed, more of a pewter or silver than grey in the light filtering in through the windows. It made my skin glow, and complimented my eyes and my hair. Once that was decided, jewelry suddenly appeared.

Pearls in gold, for my throat and ears, as well as an abstract cuff bracelet made of hammered gold, and inset with pearls and sapphires.

"Something blue," Anastasia whispered with an eyebrow waggle. I giggled. We had already conferred that I did not need another shower, that she would help me with my makeup, and that the maid would dress my hair, pinning in the silver and lavender flowers that had magically appeared, along with a bridal bouquet in the same colors.

A pair of buttery leather pewter ballet flats completed the ensemble. There was just one more thing. The lingerie.

I blushed at the items the maid took out of a shopping bag. Someone had gone into town and bought these for me, in three coordinating colors, I imagined. And they had not selected the lavender lace bra and panty set for the support, that was obvious.

There was also a lavender silk slip, to cover the lace, I imagined. How they had found items that coordinated so perfectly it was hard to fathom, but somehow, they had.

"Well, I guess you should start from the bottom up," Anastasia said in English. I let out a startled laugh.

"Be right back," I said, holding up the lacy undergarments. I darted into the massive marble bathroom to slip into the completely see-through bra and panties. I gulped as I stared at myself. I wasn't sure how often Anton would want sex but I had a feeling he was going to want to have sex with me immediately after he saw what I was wearing.

The thought made me giggle with anticipation.

Was I… horny?

I giggled again. That was new. All of this was new. I shrugged I had to let go and trust that things were working out for me. Was I thrilled about Anton and Anastasia's concerns about his father? No. Did I trust him to keep me safe? Yes. Was I over the moon about his desire to commit to me? Yes.

Oh my God, yes.

I let the slip settle over my curves, then slipped on my shoes. My hair was clean and shiny, though I hadn't bothered to blow dry it that morning. Perhaps that was for the best. Clean and natural, like the landscape of California.

I was not in my dress yet, but I already felt beautiful.

"Ready?"

"Ready," I said shyly, opening the bathroom door.

"Makeup first or after we put the dress on?"

"After," said the American maid. "Definitely after," she added for emphasis.

I nodded and Anastasia had me sit on the edge of the counter, while she lightly applied makeup. After I quickly brushed my teeth. The maid, whose name was Cassie, then brushed out my hair, made two braids with the front portions and pulled them back, securing them with bobby pins and adding the half wreath of flowers.

Finally, I was allowed to stand up but they would not let me look in the mirror yet.

First the dress and the jewelry had to be in place for the full effect. I raised my arms over my head like a dutiful child being dressed for bed. But I was not being dressed for bed, I was being dressed for my wedding. A wedding I had not known was happening today. I had not imagined that anything like this could happen at all.

I offered up my ears and throat, and finally my wrist.

They stepped back and stared at me, saying nothing.

"Can I look?" I asked, feeling unaccountably nervous.

"Yes, of course," the maid stammered.

"Oh Mishka… you are so beautiful," Anastasia said in Russian.

I stood and faced the mirror. I gasped. It was so different from anything I had ever worn. Not as a girl in Moscow. Not in Anton's employment. Not since my ‘Pretty Woman' makeover.

I looked free. Natural. Young. Not like an elegant rich man's wife. I looked like a girl. Like a bride.

"Oh," I said, not sure what to say.

"Oh, indeed," Anastasia said. The Maid handed me the bouquet and curtsied.

"Would you like a moment to FaceTime your father?"

I felt tears start to well in my eyes and nodded.

The call was not long. He cried. I cried. He told me he was proud of the woman I had become and that he knew Anton was a good man. Then he told me to dry my tears and that he would see me tomorrow.

Anastasia came in and retouched my makeup. She had not used a lot so thankfully it hadn't smudged much. I was ready in another moment. She took a couple of pictures of me standing by the window overlooking the ocean.

Then it was time.

"Tell Anton we are coming," she said over the phone to her husband, Vice. We had gossiped a bit about her whirlwind romance with the rough around the edges biker. He was also an investigator and security expert. I heard his gruff response, along with an even gruffer, ‘I love you'. She said it back of course, flapping her hand at me while I giggled.

It was that natural. We were already fast friends.

"I am glad I am here for this, since I won't get to be at your Moscow wedding. Or the one in Switzerland," she added, giving me a quick hug before we headed downstairs.

"Three weddings." I said, feeling a bit dazed buy the sudden turn of events. At least they were positive events. What was the opposite of a disaster? A miracle?

The wedding that was about to happen was a miracle.

Anton was a miracle.

His love for me was a miracle.

"Shall we?" She asked, offering me her arm. I nodded, a tiny opalescent beaded handbag holding my phone and a lipgloss dangling off of one wrist, with the bouquet held in my hand. We walked down the stairs, through the front door, and out into the sunlight.