Page 96 of The Wrong Brother

Without thinking, her chin tipped up on the edge of my fingers, her mouth tantalizingly close. The color on her lips matches the dress, and I imagine how it might taste, how it might slide across my mouth if I devour her.

“Tempting,” I murmur, managing to take a step back. My head is still foggy with her nearness; the curves of her body warmer than the air around us, the mix of innocence and intrigue in her. “Too tempting,l’vyonak.”

Emma’s eyes narrow. Her hand hasn’t left its place at my hip, and I don’t move any further away. I relish this feeling, this intimacy between us, hidden in a church garden.

“You keep calling me that. What does it mean?”

I stop breathing for a moment, caught out. She’s right; it’s a nickname I’ve let slip now and then, something I wanted to live only in my mind. But with those eyes on me, her dark lashes lowered, I find that I can’t lie.

“Little lion,” I murmur, watching her features shift into confusion, surprise, and amusement.

“Really.That sounds a lot like an endearment, Mr. Smirnov.”

I shake my head resolutely; maybe I’m willing to give in to this temptation, to take her somewhere private and kiss her until we both forget that Andrei exists. But I’m not ready yet to admit.

“Not an endearment. A reminder.”

“A reminder?” One corner of her luscious mouth tips up in a smile.

“Mmm. That you’re dangerous. More so than you look.”

Her eyes dart away quickly, darkening, and my heart tugs painfully. Because I know that as much as we’re standing here flirting, thereissomething beneath the surface. Some secret she hasn’t told me yet, that goes beyond just her previous life in the FBI.

Something holding her back from giving in, as I find myself so suddenly willing to do.

My hand captures hers at my hip, holding it lightly. Lacing our fingers together.

“We don’t have to talk,” I tell her. Behind us, in the massive stone building, the muted sounds of the wedding march starts to play. “Just stay with me.”

Emma nods. Her fingers slip into mine.

Chapter 25

Emma

By the timeRus and I slip back toward the reception, the sky has turned deep navy blue above the church grounds.

Lanterns glow along the stone pathways while music spills from the enormous white reception tent erected farther down the property. Inside, dinner is already being served beneath glittering chandeliers and cascading floral arrangements that probably cost more than my student loans ever did.

It feels obscene. Not the money, but the performance. As we enter, I can already hear Andrei’s loud laugh. All these months later, it sounds fake.

The perfect politician groom. A beautiful, secretly bruised bride. If I hadn’t seen the marks hidden beneath Victoria’s makeup days ago, I might have believed the fantasy myself.

Rus keeps one hand low against my back as we enter the reception space, guiding me through the crowd with calm confidence. The touch feels possessive enough to make my stomach flip despite everything.

Or maybe because of everything.

Conversations quiet subtly as a few people notice him returning. I’m starting to realize that Rus has a gravitational pull to him in public spaces. People track him instinctively, some with curiosity, some with wariness. He looks devastating tonight in a double-breasted jacket only shades away from mine, hanging down to his massive thighs and open to reveal a charcoal sweater and trousers. As we move, his broad shoulders cut through the crowd like some kind of God parting the earth.

Andrei notices us immediately.

Even from across the reception tent, I see the shift in his posture. His expression hardens for only a fraction of a second before the polished smile returns, but I know him too well not to catch it.

He hates that Rus is actually here. He still has no idea what’s going to happen, and neither do I. Rus has been careful not to mention a plan except for riling Andrei up.

But obviously, that won’t be enough to dethrone him. My gut twists as an usher guides us toward a table near the middle of the gathering. The truth is, I don’twantto know the details. I don’t want to feel guilty, like I should have stopped it, when thisPakhanfinally brings his plan to fruition.

Because a small part of me wants to see Andrei brought low, too. And not just because of the embarrassment of being dumped.