Claiming His Bride

“Mikael.” A tear slips free. How do I even respond to that? Do I want to let all those people who took advantage of me in the past take something else from me because they made me too scared? If I want control of my life, then I need to take it, and more than anything, I want to take Mikael.

“Not just for you. I’ll put it all back together again because I want it. It belongs to me. Every piece of it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. “Yes, what, my wife?”

“Yes, I understand, my husband,” I respond.

“That’s my girl,” he says with pride in his voice before he claims my body yet again. I wrap myself around him and claim him right back.

12

MIKAEL

“Thank you for your hospitality.” I nod toward Marco, who places a mahogany box on the leather trimmed table in front of us.

“You shouldn’t have,” drawls Red Swanson as he opens the box. Nestled inside is a bottle of Hennessy Beaute du Siecele. “I heard only one hundred bottles of these have been made. This seems a bit excessive for a private meeting.”

“It’s in hopes that if we have future need of each other, we will remember this time with good feelings.”

The side of Red’s mouth quirks up. “I’ll drink it and let you know. Some of these old liquors aren’t drinkable, and I’m not really one to collect things just to have them.”

Which is why I brought the cognac instead of a painting. “If it’s not drinkable, I’ll buy you a damned vineyard.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Red gives the signal to his man, who comes forward to gather up the gift.

“You can take up the plastic. I won’t be needing that.” Not tonight at least.

Red arches his eyebrow. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. Very.” I plan to have a talk with Blackstone, nothing more.

“This is an expensive gift for just a talk,” Red repeats.

“There’s no harm in being generous,” I counter.

Red gives another wordless order, and two of his dark-suited bodyguards lift the table while a third rolls up the plastic underneath. While we watch them work, Red hands me a cigar. “Congratulations on your nuptials. I heard that you nabbed the bird out from under Blackstone’s nose—literally. I guess your revenge is complete.”

“Thank you for your kind words on my recent marriage. My bride is a gift. As for Blackstone, he still breathes, and so my revenge is not complete, but the two have nothing to do with one another and should anyone ask, please correct that erroneous conclusion.”

“You can’t have fallen in love with this child,” Red exclaims.

“Do men like us know what love is?” I bite off the end of the cigar and ask for a light. Red pulls out his lighter—the one that he uses to burn his enemies—and holds it steady for me.

“No. I suppose we don’t, but if it is not love or revenge, what is it? I suppose she’s pretty, but there are plenty of pretty girls in the world. You don’t need to tie yourself to one.”

I draw on the cigar for a moment before answering. It’s hard to explain to an outsider what I feel for Aurora. It was convenient that I deprived Edward of a toy, but I wouldn’t have had to marry Aurora to accomplish that. I could have given her a suitcase full of cash and sent her away. Edward would have moved on to the next helpless girl.

“I’m not a philosopher or a poet. I don’t know what love is other than a term people use to hurt each other, more often than not.” I take the cigar and press the red fiery end to the inside of my wrist. My skin sizzles, and pain shoots through my body. Still, I stare steadily into Red’s surprised gaze. “I’d cut my own heart out before any harm comes to Aurora, by my hand or anyone else’s.”

Red’s eyes drop to my wrist where the cigar is burning through my skin. His face tightens, and he snaps his fingers. “You’ve made your point. I’ll spread the word.”

A bodyguard appears with a snifter of ice cubes and a damp towel. I stick the cigar between my lips and swallow a hiss of relief as the ice alleviates some of the pain.

“You’re crazy,” Red says, slapping me on the shoulder. “Edward should’ve known better.”

“Yes, he should have,” I reply.

Red departs, taking his crew with him. When everyone is gone, Marco comes and wraps up my wrist. “Edward is here. He’s brought four men.”

“Only four? I hope you’re not insulted.”

Marco grins. “I want to be, though. It’s been a while since I’ve had a workout.”

“I told Red to take the plastic away.”

“Way to ruin my afternoon.”

We exchange a low chuckle, and that’s how Edward finds us when he stomps in.