Claim

27

The house wasn’t done, but it didn’t matter. This was where Kira wanted to be married, where she wanted to start the next phase of her life with Lyon. She walked across the terrace off the kitchen and made her way toward the group of people setting up chairs beyond the property’s old gardens. On the other side of the property, a white tent had already been raised, and two men were working to install a portable dance floor.

It wouldn’t be as large as her first wedding to Lyon, but it would be more meaningful and that’s what counted.

Before their decision to use the wedding as cover for Ivan’s assassination, she’d suggested a simple civil ceremony downtown. Now she was happy she’d let Lyon talk her into having a slightly bigger affair.

The lawn was soft beneath her feet, and she was glad she’d worn flats for her survey of the wedding preparations. The April sun was shining, a definite warmth that signaled spring in the air, but it would take awhile for the ground to fully dry out after all the snow melt.

Rosemary, the wedding planner Kira had hired to help her put together the details, saw her approaching and waved.

“Hello!” Kira called. She stopped and smiled when she reached the other woman. “It looks amazing already.”

“It’s nowhere near done,” Rosemary said. Her long chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore black capris with a simple white T-shirt. Other people bustled around her, setting up chairs in front of an arch covered in wisteria. “But we can’t go wrong with this site. It’s a beautiful property.”

Kira looked around, seeing the old property through Rosemary’s eyes. The garden hadn’t been maintained in ages, but it had a wild kind of beauty even at this time of year, the peonies and rose bushes already turning green around the weeds and vines that would someday need to be pulled.

The lawn was green too and, Kira now noticed, freshly cut.

“You had the lawn cut!” she exclaimed.

Rosemary wiped her brow, and Kira realized again how pretty she was. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would help the ground dry out a bit before Saturday. Didn’t want you sinking on your way to the altar.”

“You’re a gem,” Kira said. “Thank you for thinking of it.”

“Of course.”

They spent the next forty minutes discussing details, and Kira headed back to the house grateful that she’d hired Rosemary for the job. She wanted the wedding to be easy and fun for her and Lyon, and for their guests. Having someone else handle the details meant Kira could show up and enjoy the day even if she hadn’t been able to resist a peek at the preparations.

She closed the door to the terrace, turned around, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she spotted Lyon standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

She held a hand to her chest. “You scared me half to death!”

He came toward her and bent to kiss her. “I’m sorry. I was mesmerized watching you cross the lawn through the doors. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pressing her body against his until she felt his cock come to life. “You’re getting rather sweet, Lyon Antonov.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said against her mouth.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She mimicked zipping her mouth and throwing away the key, then grabbed his hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“Isn’t the wedding being held that way?” he asked, eyes on the glass doors as she pulled him through the kitchen.

“Yes, but that’s not what I want to show you,” she said. “Besides, you’ll have a better view of the wedding preparations from upstairs.”

She led him through the living room. She wanted him to see their newly created bedroom suite.

“It’s really coming along,” he said. “You’ve done an amazing job with the place.”

She looked over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs. “I’m glad you think so. I’m really enjoying it.”

She rounded the landing on the second floor and entered what would be their shared suite with Lyon on her heels.

“Do you recognize this room?” she asked.

A grin rose to his mouth. “I recognize part of it.”

She returned his smile. “This is where you kept me prisoner.”

“Prisoner might be a bit harsh,” he said.

“You kept me locked in the bedroom with no way out,” she pointed out.

He walked toward her and slipped his arms around her. His hands came to rest on her ass, and when he squeezed, desire rushed to her core.

“I prefer to think of it as a… holding area,” he said.

She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “A holding area?”

“Exactly.”

She shook her head. “You’re insufferable. You still haven’t apologized for keeping me prisoner,” she said, emphasizing the last three words.

“And I won’t,” he said, “because keeping you prisoner brought you back to me, and I can never be sorry about that.”

“You just don’t like saying you’re sorry,” she accused with a laugh.

“Both things can be true,” he said.