30. Viviana

We get married for the second time at the base of the stairs.

While I was busy making myself look like I hadn't spent the day ice-fishing, saving my son's life, and then crying both horrified and happy tears, Raoul and Anatoly placed candles on every step and draped a set of extra bedsheets from the ceiling like a canopy.

It's more than I expected. More than I need, for sure.

I would have happily made these vows to Mikhail in our bed, wrapped in each other and a sea of blankets, without any witnesses at all. The only thing that matters is the man waiting for me. And the little boy cuddled in the chair just behind him.

"You look pretty, Mama," Dante whispers as I approach.

My heart swells and I kneel down in front of him to press a kiss to the end of his nose. "Thanks, bud."

Anatoly showed up with a backseat full of dresses. Mikhail heard me stammering about having nothing to wear to a wedding and covered his bases. Smart man.

I was worried none of them would fit now that I'm getting close to ten weeks pregnant, but they all fit perfectly. I settled on a white off-the-shoulder number with lace sleeves and a long skirt, and against all odds, I actually feel like a bride.

What really drives home that feeling is turning to face my husband. The man I love so much I'm going to marry him twice.

Mikhail is wearing dark chinos and a cashmere sweater that highlights his broad shoulders and tapered waist. There isn't a tux in the world that could make him look better than he does right now.

Plus, a sweater is easier to peel off, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons.

He holds out a hand to me, the edge of his full mouth tilted upward. "You ready?"

"Always," I breathe, moving to stand next to him.

The last time we stood like this, I wanted to hate Mikhail with every fiber of my being. Part of me really did hate him.

I hated him for tracking me down and upending my life.

I hated him for forcing me into what he promised would be a loveless marriage with him.

Most of all, I hated him for making me want him so badly when I thought he didn't want anything at all to do with me.

Now, I know the truth—and I couldn't pretend to hate him even if I tried.

We make our vows in a happy daze, which must mean Anatoly didn't try to sneak anything ridiculous into the ceremony. Even if he did, I might not have noticed.

"By the power vested in me by VowOrNever.com," Anatoly intones with all the seriousness he can muster, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mikhail, you may kiss your bride."

Mikhail snaps me against him and grips my jaw with firm fingers.

"Is the kiss legally binding?" I whisper, biting back a smile. It's the same question he asked after our first wedding. When we left without a kiss and slept in separate rooms. When I was still trying to convince myself I didn't want him.

Now, I'm putty in his hands. Even while I'm teasing him, my head tips back and my lips part.

"No, it's not," he says, leaning over me. His breath is hot on my skin. I shiver. "But we're doing it because I really fucking want to."

The kiss is gentle, but desire is threaded through every second. His fingers flex on my jaw. His hand tightens around my waist. As he parts my lips and sucks the tip of my tongue, I feel the restraint required not to take it further.

Restraint I sure as hell don't have.

I cling to him, moaning softly into his mouth like we're alone. Which we definitely are not. Anatoly clears his throat once. Twice.

"Alrighty then," he finally announces. "I now present Mr. and Mrs. Novikov."

Mikhail slides his hands to my waist and pulls me gently away from him. "Later," he promises, squeezing my hip. "Later."

We all eat a slice of some frozen cheesecake they found in a bodega on their way out of the city. It's white chocolate raspberry and not half-bad. Then Anatoly announces it's time for them to go.

"Go where? You're staying here," I tell him.

"No," he says, "we're not."

"Anatoly and Raoul are going to take Dante and the doctor back to the mansion for the night," Mikhail informs me. "They're going to stay there while we?—"

"Consummate your marriage loudly and energetically," Anatoly finishes.

I slap his arm. "That's not funny."

"It was one hundred percent not a joke. I have no desire to listen to you all through the wall all night. Plus, Dr. Price has been through enough." He hitches a thumb over his shoulder to where the doctor is sitting in the corner, watching us all with a mixture of disbelief and wariness.

Clearly, he's not sure what to make of this hostage-situation-turned-wedding. Listening to his captors go at it all night might be the poor man's breaking point. And as much as I want to correct Anatoly and tell him Mikhail and I can control ourselves, I don't have a lot of evidence to back that up. What I do have is a flutter deep in my core whenever Mikhail's body brushes against mine.

My face flames and I turn to Mikhail. "You think this is a good idea?"

"I do." He runs a hand over his chin. "I probably should have taken you both back to the mansion yesterday. Now that the new security system is up, it's the safest place for both of you. I just wasn't ready to leave."

"Neither was I." The last thing I want is for him to think Dante's accident this morning was his fault. I would have agreed to live out here if he'd suggested it.

Mikhail fists the fabric at my waist and I don't think there's anywhere in the world I wouldn't follow him.

"Now, neither of you have to leave," Anatoly says suddenly. "But I do. Because the sexual tension in this room is unbearable."

Mikhail takes a swing at Anatoly and he laughs. I dodge both of them to kneel down in front of Dante. He's only been awake for a couple hours, but his eyes are already starting to droop closed.

"Your dad and Uncle Nat were talking and they think you should go back to the mansion tonight, but?—"

"You're staying here." He rubs at one of his eyes sleepily. "I know. Uncle Nat told me."

"Is that okay?" I ask. "Because if it isn't, I'll come with you. We can all go back to the mansion tonight. It would be nice to be back in my own room."

Although, when I blink, I see my father sitting on the end of my bed, waiting for me.

I shove the thought away and focus on Dante's face. "You don't have to go alone if you aren't ready. I'll come with you."

"Uncle Nat said we were going to have a boys' night. It can't be a boys' night if you're there," he points out.

"Then it doesn"t have to be a boys' night. It can be a family night instead."

He wrinkles his nose at that idea. "I want to go with Uncle Nat and Uncle Raoul. It will be fun."

He feels safe with them.

He's happy.

He has a family.

These are all good things. Knowing that doesn't stop me from planting wet kisses all over his face. "I'll miss you. I love you. I'll miss you. I love you."

"Ew!" he squeals, giggling and trying to fight me off. "Gross, Mama!"

"Tell me you love me and I'll quit," I threaten between a kiss to each of his cheeks.

"I love you!" he gasps. "I love you."

I hold his precious face in my hands and rub our noses together. "I really do love you, bud."

He rolls his eyes, but smiles.

Anatoly and Raoul make quick work of loading all of Dante's things into the Jeep. Dr. Price follows after them, glancing once towards the trees like maybe he'll make a run for it before thinking better of it and getting into the car.

Then they're gone.

And we're alone.

Anatoly wasn't wrong about the sexual tension. The air sizzles with it. It's frigid outside, but I barely feel the cold.

I fold my hands in front of me. "Well, what now?"

Before I can even turn to look at Mikhail, he scoops me off my feet, cradles me against his chest, and carries me across the threshold of the cabin.