Dark Chase (The Gunrunner Series) (19 page)

Something in his eyes made her melt.

“You are so beautiful, Sophia. So beautiful.”

He kissed her there, right under the chandelier they’d picked out together. His tongue mingling with hers, his hands tightening around her waist. She loved that about him. There was never a chaste peck from Dmitri. Every time he kissed her, he really kissed her.

She leaned into him, firing on all cylinders, coming to life.

He pulled away. “We should go before I rip off your clothes.”

They went to the waiting car hand in hand and climbed into the backseat. The driver took off, making his way toward the city.

Sophia feasted her eyes on Dmitri, handsome and rugged next to her. “Where are we going?”

He rested his hand on her thigh. “We can visit some museums. Act like tourists.”

She leaned against him. “I’d like that. I love the city.”

“I know,” he said. He rested his head on hers.

The driver dropped them off in a familiar spot, a couple of blocks from the Winter Palace.

They walked hand and hand into the Palace Court, the Hermitage rising above them. Resplendent with a light smattering of snow, the beautiful architecture moved her. She’d spent so much time here, staring at the façade of the building, waiting for this man. She had so many dark days where hope was lost. It was here, too, where they were reunited.

Dmitri was beside her, a formidable, constant presence at her side. “You will need to change your name. Yours is too recognizable,” he said suddenly.

She nodded, still staring at the building’s beautiful columns. “I know. What do you suggest?”

“My love, I would like for you to take the name Davydov.”

“What?” She felt him move beside her. She glanced over, shocked to see him kneeling beside her, holding up a little velvet box.

It took a few seconds for her to catch up with what he was doing. Her heart danced in her ribcage, and her pulse pounded in her ears. This was happening.

She shrieked, bringing her hands to her mouth.

He opened the box. Inside was the most magnificent ring she’d ever seen: a giant, brilliant, pear shaped ruby set against intricately carved black metal. “Dmitri,” she breathed.

“Do you consent to becoming my wife?” he said, eyes boring into hers, a serious expression on his face.

Oh, my God.
Her hands shook, and her knees wobbled.

She smiled, tears spilling. “Yes. A million times yes.”

He smiled, showing his dimples. He stood and carefully slid the massive ring on her finger.

She jumped into his arms, tearing her fingers through his hair. She pressed her lips to his, tasting the salt of her tears in their kiss.

He pulled back, cupping her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His eyes were locked with hers. “My love,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she said.

She kissed him again, only vaguely aware of the small crowd of people that were clapping and cheering around them at Dmitri’s very public proposal. They were lost to the world, only the two of them, burning with love. A little mark of beauty in the ugly, cold world.

He grunted and pulled away, seemingly conscious of the surrounding crowd. They walked closer the Winter Palace, both of them dwarfed by the large, beautiful building. The line for the museum was growing along with the crowd in the square.

Tourists flowed around them, taking pictures, talking excitedly.

“What a perfect place for your proposal,” Sophia said.

Dmitri put his hand on the small of her back. “Memories live in our minds, not in a place, but I wanted this place and this memory in your mind to be beautiful, unmarred by the agony of our separation.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice almost cracking with the sweetness of his gesture. God she loved him. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, he blew her away with his poetic, brilliant mind.

She smiled and examined the beautiful ring. “This is…stunning. I can’t believe it’s mine.”

“You like?” he said, catching her hand, turning it in the light given by the cloud-covered winter sun. The ruby sparkled with impossible light and depth, its deep vibrant red perfectly set against the black metal and stones. It was dark, sexy, and even a little dangerous. Like her man. Like their love. “I had it made for you.”

She blinked away tears so she could see it properly. “It’s truly the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. It’s fit for royalty.”

He pulled her close. His warm breath moved down her neck, sending chills down her spine. “My love, that is most appropriate for I have an empire, and you will be my queen.”

Epilogue

Sophia married Dmitri in the dead of winter. It was a cold, dead day, but she was filled with light.

She wore a stunning gown she’d picked up in Paris with a French-lace covered bodice and a full organza skirt. She stood next to a tuxedo-clad Dmitri in the civil registration office, reciting words the officiate stated for them to repeat.

Dmitri had wanted a legal, registered marriage, and she had acquiesced. She wanted it noted on record that she was his, and he was hers. He wanted her to be noted as his wife for legal purposes in the event something happened to him.

Their only witnesses were Gram, Ivan, and Tatiana. Sophia cried when Dmitri slid her ring on right finger, and cried harder when she put on his black gold ring on his right finger. He’d offered to wear them on their left hands, like she was used to in America, but she was fine with doing things this way.

He kissed her, and they were husband and wife.

She signed the registry with a shaky hand. Dmitri signed boldly, with flourish. She watched her witnesses sign; a genuine smile even flitted across Gram’s face as he did.

They were official. Dmitri was hers. Her new life started now. The only pang she felt was for Andrea, but it passed. She’d let her go, as she’d let go of everything else from her old life.

Tatiana cried until mascara ran down her cheeks, handing flowers to Sophia as tradition dictated. They toasted with champagne and then clamored in the waiting limousine. They skipped the orthodox crowning ceremony, but kept with the tradition of touring the city via the limo while the champagne flowed.

The driver took them to many major landmarks in St. Petersburg: their beloved Winter Palace, the beautiful Church of the Savior on Blood, the crisp, white Peterhof Palace, the giant gold dome of Saint Isaac’s Cathedral, even the beautiful yellow Moka Palace.

By the time the driver dropped off their guests at home and took her and Dmitri to the airport, Sophia was exhausted.

She changed into a simple, warm sweater dress with crystal details around the plunging neckline.

Dmitri voiced his approval as she boarded his private jet. “Mrs. Davydov.” She loved the way it sounded leaving his lips. “You look delicious.”

“As do you, my husband.”

He grabbed her, pulling her against him. “Say it again.”

“My husband,” she breathed.

He kissed her, greedily pushing his tongue into her mouth.

The captain’s voice came on the intercom, instructing them to sit down and buckle in for departure. They reluctantly pulled apart, sat down, and buckled in.

She clung to Dmitri during take-off. The private jets still freaked her out. They were louder and bumpier than commercial flights.

When they reached cruising altitude, Dmitri unbuckled himself. “Champagne?”

“Yes.”

She watched him unfold himself and then remove glasses from the cupboard and the champagne from the bucket of ice.

He handed her a glass of the bubbly liquid.

He sat across from her, loosening his collar, giving her a peek of his chest hair. He looked like a very naughty businessman. “We have much to discuss, now that you are officially my wife.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “There’s a bed in the back of this plane, and you want to talk?”

He smiled. “I am serious.”

“I’m wearing red lace underneath…” she said. She pulled out a bra strap to prove it.

“Fuck,” he whispered. His erection strained his pants, his breath heaving. “I have something to say first. Do not distract me.”

“Okay,” she flicked the strap one more time and then crossed her legs. His eyes tracked her movements. “Go.”

“I want to know what your desired level of involvement with my…business will be. You can do nothing and know nothing, which is safest and probably the best for you. Or, you could become involved.”

“Involved?” she said.

“Yes. Your intelligence would be an asset to my organization, but only if you choose it to be. It will be your decision and yours alone.”

She uncrossed her legs and stood slowly, leaving her half-finished glass of champagne on the little white table next to her chair. “Are you asking if I want to be involved in criminal activity? With you?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She moved closer to him, standing in front of him. His eyes assessed her, but he did not speak and he kept his expression neutral.

“I accept all of you. Love all of you. I want to be your partner in every single way,” she said.

He came at her fast, so fast she didn’t have time to react. His body crashed into her, his mouth frantic against hers. He sucked her lower lip and nibbled her jaw. “Oh, Sophia. You please me so.”

He pulled down the hem of sweater dress, covering her nipple with his mouth, sucking hard through the fabric of the bra.

She groaned and arched into him. He unclamped his mouth from her nipple then pushed her through the small door at the rear of the plane.

The bed filled up the entire room, leaving room for little else, but they had no need for anything else.

He shoved her on the bed and then crawled on top of her. He pulled the clasp out of her hair, making it fall around her shoulders. He clenched the back of her head and neck, forcing their mouths together. He kissed her roughly, his need and ache filling her soul.

She pushed him back, making him sit up. She slid his jacket down his muscle-bound arms. She worked the buttons at the top of his shirt, opening them one at a time. He watched her work, his eyes flitting down her body and back up to her face. Once she had his shirt off, he pounced again.

He tugged down his pants, freeing his heavy, long cock.

He sat up on the bed, pulling her down so she was straddling him. “I want to watch you,” he said. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes.”

He shoved the crotch of her panties aside, too frantic in his intensity to even remove them. She sank on top of him, letting the shock of his fullness fill her. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

“Move,” he commanded.

She did, slowly sliding up and down his length. He kept an arm behind him, holding himself up; the other was wrapped around her, guiding her as she moved up and down on him.

He yanked her bra down, leaving it on, but freeing her breasts. They swayed with her movements. He watched her move, his excitement growing as she bounced in front of him. He buried his face in her breasts, biting gently on her nipples. Fire coursed through her veins.

“Faster,” he said.

She moved faster, frantically riding him to get the friction she needed. She felt her core tightening, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. “Oh, Dmitri,” she sighed.

He gently grabbed her jaw. “Look at me while you love me.”

She did, meeting his eyes. She saw everything she needed there: love, fire, passion, safety.

She let go, moving over the edge. Beautiful explosions ripped through her body, setting every nerve on fire with pleasure. She quivered around him, setting off his powerful release.

Her name fell from his lips as he emptied inside of her. Their gazes never left each other while they found their mutual ecstasy.

He pulled her against him. They were closer than ever, chest to chest, her legs wrapped around his torso, faces inches apart. There was nothing between them. No distance. They were one, husband and wife.

“This is my truth,” he said. “You are my redemption.”

She raked her fingers through his hair and then rested them on his back. “You are my life, now,” she said.

He lay back, gently bringing her with him, still inside her.

“Are you tired?” he said. “Do you need rest?”

“I’m wide awake now, husband.” She entwined her fingers with his, bringing their hands close to the pillow so she could examine his wedding ring

He laughed and then skimmed his fingertips down the small of her back. “My dearest wife, I am not done with you yet.” He moved inside her, gently rubbing her sweet spot, making her gasp. “By the time we arrive in Austria, you will not be able to walk,” he growled.

“Skiing is overrated,” she murmured.

Then she was lost in his kiss, awash in his love. They were one, a king and queen to rule the dark trade.

***THE END***

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About the Author

Miranda Kavi is a romance and paranormal fiction author. Her books have been listed on the top 100 best seller lists on Amazon and iTunes. She has worked as an attorney, an executive recruiter, and an assistant in a biological anthropology lab. She loves scary movies, museums, and is hopelessly addicted to chocolate. She lives in the Houston area with her husband and daughter.