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  “I hope all proposals are this awesome. It should be that way,” she mumbled as she shoved the hair from her face.

  He snorted, but held her close so she couldn’t see his smile.

  Chapter Two

  “You packed for me?”

  Gregori faced his very dubious woman and frowned. “Do you doubt I am capable of such a thing?” He looked her up and down, at the utilitarian jeans and T-shirt, the ratty sneakers he knew she only wore to poke at his fashion sense. “I am utterly qualified to put outfits together for you.”

  She snorted, his imperious frown waved aside. It got him so riled up when she didn’t take his bossy side seriously. Others scattered for cover when he frowned that way but Wren let it roll off with a casual flick of her wrist.

  “Are you saying you have better fashion sense than I do?”

  He laughed before stepping close enough to kiss her. “I would never say such a thing.” It was true, of course, but he wasn’t so stupid as to say it out loud.

  “You’re being very sweet. This is all...” She turned in a circle, including the packed bags and pointed then to the windows indicating the car downstairs, waiting to take them to the airport. Where their private plane waited. “Just. It’s lovely.”

  He saw the emotion on her features, knew he’d been right to do all he could—along with his personal assistant and Wren’s cousin Kelsey—to make this wedding trip as memorable as possible.

  It delighted him to spoil her and the next week was full of things designed to make her happy.

  “If we get to New York and I find out all you’ve packed is lingerie, there are so many places to shop I won’t have any complaints.”

  He took her hand, kissing her knuckles and telling her he adored her in Russian before switching back to English. “I now wish that’s what I’d done.”

  It was her turn to laugh as they headed down to their ride. “Well, let’s be honest, I like shopping for clothes, despite your very low opinion of my closet. New York is perfect for such activities to be sandwiched between swanky dinners, galleries and lots of sexytimes.”

  “I live in hope, as always,” he told her once they’d gotten settled in the car and on their way. “Speaking of that, care for some champagne?”

  Snickering, Wren shot him a look as he leaned back against the seat, pulling her along with him.

  If she wanted otherwise, she’d definitely make it known but she snuggled into him, fitting perfectly.

  “It’s nine in the morning. A bit early for champagne.”

  He poured himself a glass. “When we arrive at the plane, I’ll give you some orange juice so you can add champagne to it. It’s a mimosa then. Perfectly acceptable in the morning when one is flying off to get married.” He sipped and enjoyed the dry burst of flavor before it wisped away. He needed no excuses to enjoy champagne. “We’ll have coffee and breakfast after we take off. I don’t want you to get hangry.”

  “I’d protest that, but everyone knows how horrible I am when I’m hungry or overtired. So thank you.” She grinned. “Did you tell your parents? Or Alexsei and Vic?”

  “I thought it would be best for us to video call everyone after we make it official. Otherwise there will be trouble.” His mother was going to be pissed off that he didn’t allow her the grand wedding she’d been hoping to plan. Gregori and his cousins were very close, so he’d told them what he’d been planning, but swore them to secrecy until he announced it. “Did you tell anyone?”

  “I talked to Kelsey last night and we have to tell the Moms privately, not on a group video call because they’re going to want that. They won’t be angry if we do it that way. They love you. If either of them liked boys I’d be worried one of them would steal you in the middle of the night. And I say we lead with how we did this wonderful romantic thing and that there’ll be a reception in the future. We’ll have to work around everyone’s schedule but it gives your mom, Irena and my moms something to do so they don’t feel left out.”

  Her mothers were formidable women he was quite pleased to say liked him and supported his and Wren’s relationship. Wren shared most everything with them so he was admittedly a little surprised she hadn’t told them so he asked why.

  “I just... I know it sounds strange but I just sort of want to keep it to us until it’s done. Then we can tell the whole world. It’s a wonderful secret and there’s powerful magic in that.”

  “That’s very poetic. And very true.” He sat straight as they drove up to the place where they’d go through private security and head to the waiting plane.

  “Wow,” she murmured as they rode out to the sleek jet on the tarmac. “This is some pretty heavy duty rockstar shit right here, Gregori.”

  Pleased, he shrugged one shoulder. “I hear some say that about me from time to time.”

  He had been a wild man in his younger days as an artist. Where the money had flowed free, along with freedom to create whatever art he wanted to. It had been a hedonistic time. He didn’t regret it, even the emotionally tumultuous marriage and divorce, because it had brought him to the side of the person he’d been meant to love until the end of his days.

  Wren looked up at him, a smirk on her mouth. “They really do say that. Usually because they’re jealous. Either of me or you. Usually me for having you all to myself. So they want to remind me of your hedonistic ways. As if I didn’t know about them already.”

  He growled, hating that part of fame. Hating that it touched her in any way that was negative.

  “Stop growling,” she told him as they pulled to a stop.

  “You know how I feel about people doing that,” he said but she’d already gotten herself mostly out the door so Gregori followed, tipping the driver on his way.

  He spun her into his arms, pausing their walk to the stairs. “There is nothing else to be but yours. I would lay mountains at your feet,” he said.

  Her cheeks flushed and her smile softened. “I know. It’s the best thing in the world. It truly doesn’t matter when people talk like that. I know what’s true. And I know you’re still wild in all the best ways.” She stole a quick kiss but nipped his lip as she broke away. “And all the best ways are mine.”

  No one but Wren could make such a statement and fill him with excitement. He hugged her close before continuing their way up to the awaiting plane.

  Wren paused as they entered the cabin. He’d taken care of every last detail. Fresh flowers filled the space and at their seats, a welcome mimosa.

  It wasn’t the money he’d spent for this trip. It was the way everything seemed tailored to please her.

  The flight attendant took care of them as they readied for takeoff and before she knew it, they were taking off and she had a mimosa in her hand and a breakfast burrito on the table in front of her.

  “I like playing at being rich,” she told him.

  “Then you should let me spoil you more,” he replied with a raised brow.

  Since his excesses had really narrowed down to her, she found herself having to keep him in check from time to time. But it wasn’t as if he didn’t surprise her with lovely things on a regular basis. “You spoil me all the time, Gregori. I just don’t need a Maserati.”

  “You looked very sexy in the one we rented on our last trip to London and we needed a car,” he said as if that was a perfectly good reason to spend that kind of money.

  “I really do love you, Grisha.” And not one of the myriad reasons was his money. But certainly his generosity and the way his presents often showed how well he paid attention to what she wanted and needed. To the details of her life.

  “Ya obozhayu tebya.” Roughly a declaration of adoration. Uniquely Gregori and it always touched her because she felt it right to her toes.

  “I know. Thank you.” She clinked her glass to his before she sipped.

  Some people loved beer or wine. Her ma
n loved champagne and their wine fridge was always well stocked. She found it more than adorable that he thought ahead to have his current favorite laid in for their flight.

  Just like he’d been sure to have her favorite breakfast, a burrito from Jack’s full of fresh barbeque along with some eggs, potatoes and beans and when an Americano with a side of chocolate milk appeared she leaned her head on his shoulder a moment in thanks.

  This was exactly what was supposed to happen. This was the moment she was meant to be having. It was right to say yes and officially join her life with his.

  “You even got extra pico de gallo. You get me.” She gave him a smile before cutting into her breakfast.

  “A well fed Wren is the nicest Wren,” he said, throwing some extra accent into it.

  She shivered with delight. Both at the blatant sexiness of it and the way he teased. Always to please her.

  And she did happen to love food so he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Are you insinuating that I’m easier when I eat a lot?”

  He laughed from his belly for a few moments before turning to hug her. “Kotyonok.”

  The way he said it made her giggle. Affectionate. A declaration that yes indeed she was far more amenable to sex when she wasn’t hungry.

  “Is that why our kitchen is always full of sweets and salty snacks?”

  “You came to me for the cake, don’t forget it,” he said before kissing her. A reminder of the early days when she’d been a bike delivery person and he’d been the broody artist she loved hanging out with over tea and whatever awesome sweet thing he had on hand.

  “I stand corrected. I was after your cookies and cake from the start. But then we had sex and I realized you had other qualities I loved.”

  He leaned over to nip her shoulder. “My prodigious penis, I assume?”

  “It’s pretty handy to have around when I get bored, yeah.” She winked and smirked before he leaned back.

  “Now we have blankets to snuggle under while we finish season eight of the teenage show with the vampires.” He said it like he didn’t know the title though he’d watched all seven seasons before it at her side.

  “Excellent.”

  The flight attendant appeared shortly after that to clear their dishes and replaced Wren’s coffee with a spiked version.

  “I’m going to be asleep by the time we get there if I drink all morning long,” she said while adding whipped cream to her mug.

  “It’s your wedding and honeymoon. Sleep whenever you want. It’s a long enough flight. You’re cute when you’re napping. And quiet.”

  Wren eyed him over the rim of her cup and then got whipped cream on her nose. Of course he didn’t even get drowsy after day drinking. He didn’t even need more than five hours sleep a night while Wren preferred at least eight. His metabolism was scarily good. He barely needed to exercise while if Wren didn’t do it regularly she couldn’t keep eating all the glorious bread in the world. And as his family worked in and ran a bakery, there was a blessed surfeit of baked goods in her house to go with the champagne and black tea.

  But it didn’t matter. They still fit.

  He took her hand as a little bit of turbulence hit. “I hope this goes away because I was hoping to lure you over here onto my lap.”

  “We’ve got hours more. We can come back to that,” she murmured as their flight attendant came into the cabin.

  “The captain wanted me to let you know there’s some weather ahead. Lightning and wind. So she’s going to see if she can’t get around it. Until then it’s going to be bumpy. Keep the seatbelts on and I’ll update you soon.”

  He tensed up and she knew it wasn’t from flight anxiety but annoyance that his plans might be thwarted. Gregori Ivanov wasn’t used to having his will thwarted.

  “They said the chances were the storms would break up or dissolve or what have you,” he said. “This is not winter when there is snow or ice to slow us down.”

  Fighting a smile, she put her head back on his shoulder. “She’s probably going to fly around it. Go south or north or fly higher or lower or whatever it is they do.”

  “We’ve got dinner reservations,” he countered.

  “We’ll either be there by then or not. You fly enough that you understand how this works. It’s out of our control so, as you said earlier, it’s our wedding and honeymoon trip, let’s enjoy it. We have snacks! And booze and probably a goddamn cake or torte or something.”

  He muttered in Russian for a bit while she set up the screen so they could watch some teenage vampires living as socialites in New Orleans. He’d complain about it and satisfy his need to do so and she’d snuggle and probably fall asleep halfway through the second episode. Like normal.

  But the turbulence never quite stopped long enough to trust that it was over and after another forty minutes the captain spoke over the intercom.

  * * *

  “Stop frowning. Your brow is furrowed so hard you’re going to give yourself a headache,” Wren said.

  “The plane is broken too. How could this be?” Gregori bristled at the circumstances, which included being stuck in a tiny airport in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than a sad vending machine.

  “Shit happens. We can’t fly now anyway with all the storms closing airports from here to New York.”

  They’d been forced to land somewhere in Idaho when, on top of the weather, the plane began having some electrical problems.

  It was unacceptable that he not be able to have a plane that worked well enough to safely deliver them to New York. He had plans!

  Wren wasn’t upset or impatient. She was cheerful. Fucking cheerful. Which made him cranky because this was supposed to be about spoiling her and now he was impatient, frustrated and annoyed while she was...well, making the most of things.

  She’d pulled out her camera and was taking pictures in her way. Changing her perspective by bending low or stretching up. A reminder to him to see things from new points of view.

  Wren caught him watching her and heading past, she kissed his brow, over the furrows she’d just scolded him about.

  “I don’t want it to be out of my control.”

  She smiled, cupping his cheeks. “I know. I wish I could make it so the universe always bent to your will. But that’s beyond my power.”

  “Don’t joke. You know the world would be better if everyone just listened to me.”

  She snickered and he felt a little better.

  * * *

  The captain came into the terminal where they’d been waiting for the last hour and a half. “The storms have forced ground stops getting into New York. Chances are, even without the needed repair to the aircraft, we wouldn’t be able to leave until tomorrow morning. The part for the repair, however, has to be located and then brought here and I was just told that it won’t be until day after tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “So when will they get us a replacement plane for our trip to New York?” Gregori demanded.

  “The company will put you up at a hotel tonight and tomorrow night. We can’t get another plane here right now. As I said, the weather has slowed down the process considerably. We’re doing what we can, when we can. You have our guarantee of that.” The captain delivered this in a crisp, professional manner he would have liked if she weren’t standing between his woman and the perfect wedding trip.

  “This is unacceptable,” he said. How many times was he going to have to say it in one day?

  Wren stepped to his side and took his hand, squeezing it. Tugging his attention to her. “I think what she’s saying is that our plane doesn’t work and the part is two days away. At least. And that airports are dealing with all these storms and so all planes heading east are affected. So we’re stuck here. For a few days.”

  “At least,” Gregori said through a tight jaw.

  The captain smiled, trying to walk
the line between confident and subservient. “We’re not that far from Idaho Falls. It’s the high season now, you know. School’s out and Yellowstone is not too far away. Hotel rooms are scarce. But the company values your business, Mr. Ivanov, so all effort will be made to get you checked in to a nice place where you can enjoy the area. A car as well so you and Ms. Davis can travel a little to the nearby sights. Lots of great nature around here.”

  He tossed his hands up in the air and in Russian, began to snarl, “Two days in Idaho when I am supposed to be getting married tomorrow? In New York City! Eating at restaurants I’ve made special arrangements with? For my wedding and my wife?”

  Wren smiled reassuringly at the pilot as she stepped between them. “Russian is his emotional language,” she said in a cheerful voice. “We’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow so he’s upset. But of course this isn’t your fault. You can’t control the weather and he’s just pissed he can’t either. Let’s get that car arranged, along with the hotel for tonight and tomorrow night.”

  * * *

  “I am not a raging animal,” he said to Wren once the bellman had left them with their luggage in a perfectly lovely hotel room in a perfectly lovely chain hotel. “I don’t need to be handled.”

  She broke open the room service menu and scanned it before turning back to him. “I assume you mean the way I was your Gregori Interpreter when dealing with the pilot and the staff here at the hotel?” Wren arched a brow his way. “You’re not a raging animal. You’re a tall, surly artist who wears a perpetual sneer and is covered in ink. It’s a little intimidating. Especially when you’re annoyed. Or so I hear.”

  He growled but didn’t argue and she couldn’t help herself from yanking him down for a kiss.

  “You don’t scare me, mister.”

  “It’s part of your charm,” he allowed, resting his forehead against hers a moment before frowning again. “I want this to be perfect. And it’s not. The plane is broken! The weather is broken. I don’t like it.” He frowned, disgusted he couldn’t control the weather.