Half an hour later, she pulled into the garage next to Roman’s Raptor. Oddly, no other cars were lined up in the driveway or in front of the house.
Odd, yes. Unheard of, no. After all, when you were a mob boss—or pakhan, as Roman had told her when he’d educated her on the nuances of Russian bratva—or were part of their family, you had the benefit of lots of badasses to drive you around.
She punched the garage door opener and strode through the back door. Instead of finding the people closest to her gathered in the kitchen and noshing on pre-game snacks, the room was cast in early evening shadows. “Roman?” She shut the door behind her and locked it. “Where is everybody?”
Rather than hear him answer from the living room where the biggest television was located, his voice reverberated down from the stairway. “Up here, moya koroleva.”
What the...
She headed up the stairs, straining her ears for some clue as to what the heck everyone was doing on the third floor. Maybe Roman was showing them the workroom they’d set up for her last month. Or maybe the living room TV was on the fritz—which totally sucked because that OLED number Roman had purchased specifically for playoff season had been a seriously high-ticket item.
She reached the third floor to complete silence.
No one in her workroom.
For that matter, there was no one anywhere. “Roman, where is everyone?” She strode into the bedroom and got two steps in before her brain fully comprehended the picture in front of her and pulled her to a complete stop.
“There is no one else tonight,” Roman said. Beside him was a small table covered in a crisp white tablecloth and place settings that would have come out of a five-star restaurant. Delicate stargazer lilies sat in a short arrangement in the middle. “It will only be the two of us.”
No hamburgers?
No hot dogs?
No tortilla chips and queso?
She’d starved herself all day for tonight’s gluttony. Though, looking at Roman in a charcoal gray suit, black shirt and black tie, the need for junk food quickly fizzled. She set her purse on the dresser and shrugged off her jacket. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is a surprise for you.” He gave her a wry look. “One you’ve made very challenging by being late.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” She tossed her coat on top of her purse and padded forward, both delighted and uncertain at the same time. “I was talking to Kevin.”
“Yes, I know. He texted me after you left.”
Hmm. So that’s what the weird look had been about. Her brother was in cahoots with his boss for something beyond work.
Interesting.
Two warming covers sat atop the plates on the table. “So, I’m getting a surprise?”
“Indeed.”
She reached for the warming cover closest to her, intent on peeking underneath.
Roman gripped her wrist before she made contact. “Not yet. We have matters to attend to first.”
“We do?”
“Yes.”
“But what if the food gets cold?”
“Then I’ll call the chef back and have him make you more.”
Aww. He’d been up to his tricks again. Adorably ridiculous tricks. She moved in close, rose to her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is there a grilled cheese sandwich under there?”
His hands settled on her hips and his voice dropped to that delicious rumble she felt everywhere. “It worked for me before. I thought it might be in my best interest to use it to my advantage again.”
She cocked her head. “Worked how?”
“That day at the restaurant is when you began to soften toward me. When you realized my desire for you was not a game.”
Oh, no. No one could ever call Roman or his actions anything but deadly serious. If he’d proven nothing else in the last year, it was that he meant every word that came out of his mouth. “And you think I need softening for something?”
A soft, gentle smile tilted his full lips. “Not softening. Just a reminder.”
“Mmm.” She loved remembering that day. The confusion. The awe. The utter wonder of it all. “I like remembering all of my days with you.”
“Good,” he said before giving her a firm yet gentle kiss. “Then allow me to give you more.”
Keeping her close, he pulled a black box out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
A velvet box.
A very tiny one.
Suited for a ring.
Her heart took off at a sprint, sending her blood jetting through her veins. She licked her lips and tried to breathe. “What’s that?”
“You know what it is, moya koroleva. You see them every day. Only today it isn’t for anyone else. Only for you.”
He opened the box.
Oh.
My.
God.
The ring.
The one Mr. Frannelly had been consulting with her on for weeks. The design he said he was determined to get just right. No wonder he kept asking for her input. Her suggestions and her reactions. It hadn’t been for him to sell.
It was for her.
From Roman.
“Baby...” She studied it for long seconds. Marveled at the beauty in the design. Not just because the stone in the center was so flawless, but because of the tasteful and unique white gold setting that held it. She lifted her head, emotion balled up in her throat. “It’s beautiful.”
“As beautiful as my Queen.” He plucked it from the box and smoothly slid it on her finger.
A perfect fit.
Just as he’d known it would be.
“It’s time, vozlyublennaya. Time for you to take my name. To truly be my bride and seal our life together.”
It’s time.
Nearly the same words she’d shared with her brother.
And it was time. Time for her to surrender all her old fears once and for all and step fully into her new life. A life of happiness. Of family and of love. All shared with a man she knew she could always trust completely.
She pressed her hands against his chest and rolled back up on her toes, absolute certainty reverberating through every inch of her as she whispered against his lips. “You’re right, handsome. It’s time.” A kiss to seal her words. A vow she didn’t doubt for a second. “Time for us.”
* * *
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