Defiant. Sweet. Alluring.
A business deal gone wrong brought me to her doorstep.
She's everything I shouldn't want; everything I was against after watching my mother's obsession destroy her.
Still, I can't stop myself from craving her.
I should know...
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MY WEDDING DAY CAME FASTER than I expected, and it was no one’s fault but mine.
I’d picked the date myself, after all.
I scheduled the wedding earlier because I didn’t want the Italians to find a way or loophole—not that they would be able to. My lawyers made sure of that—out of the wedding.
Igor hadn’t been pleased with the news of my marriage, and he’d let his displeasure be known for over thirty minutes. I’d put the call on speakerphone, offering occasional hums to make it seem like I was paying any attention to him.
I wasn’t.
I was going over the final details of my wedding with Peter, my assistant. The same wedding he disapproved of.
Someone was going to have a bitch fit when he found out, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
“The Italians called again to make sure the no paparazzi rule was still intact,” Peter said absentmindedly, finalizing things that needed to be done over the phone.
Unlike us, they didn’t rely heavily on the media to paint a picture about them. I’d twisted the mind of the public through the media, and I was now one of New York’s most eligible bachelors. Who’d think I ran a fight club behind the scene?
“Yes. It’s a closed event. Are all the NDAs signed?” I asked, smoothing a hand over my tie.
“Yes, sir.”
I nodded. I knew I could always rely on him to get the job done. “No phones allowed. Make sure the staff knows that. They’re familiar with the protocol, but let them know again. Nothing should be outed to the press. Fire anyone that breaks the rule and make Jerald file them with a lawsuit. Everything has to be perfect.”
I had a bride to impress, and I had a feeling she’d have a lot to complain about if a single thing was out of place. Not because she cared—she didn’t—but because she wanted to spite me.
“Where’s Mikhail?” I asked. I hadn’t seen him at all this morning, and he was my best man at the wedding. Something he’d bitched about before ordering a custom Tom Ford for himself.
“He’s waiting by the limo.”
I straightened my tie one last time. “Let’s go, then.”
*
I looked up from my wristwatch when soft music began to play, announcing the arrival of the bride. Took her long enough.
She was thirty minutes late, and if the last few days had taught me anything about her, I knew she did it on purpose to annoy me. Too bad for her; I only found her actions amusing rather than annoying. She wanted to get a rise out of me so badly, and me not providing her with that reaction drove her wild.
“The fuck?” Mikhail hissed behind me when Ariana came into view, her arm entwined with her brother’s.
