Page 51

"Tonight," I agree, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before reluctantly extracting myself from his arms.
I smooth my dress, now more rumpled than before, and glance at the clock on the bedside table. "We're officially fifteen minutes late."
"Worth it." His smile is wolfish as he wipes a smudge of my lipstick from his mouth.
I roll my eyes but can't suppress my own smile as I reapply my makeup at the vanity. In the mirror, I watch him straighten his tie, the casual efficiency of his movements a reminder of the controlled power that lives in every line of his body.
"Do you think they'll be happy?" I ask suddenly, the question escaping before I can contain it.
Mikhail pauses, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection. "Vanya and Inez?"
I nod, pressing my lips together to even out the fresh coat of color. "I hope they find what we did. That they stop fighting long enough to see each other."
He comes to stand behind me again, his hands settling on my shoulders. "Not everyone gets our ending,kisa."
"It's not an ending," I correct him softly. "It's a beginning. Every day with you is a beginning."
Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the edges that few besides me ever witness. He bends to press his lips to the crown of my head.
"When did you become so wise?" he murmurs against my hair.
I smile, reaching up to cover one of his hands with mine. "I was born wise, and don’t you forget it."
His laugh is genuine this time, rumbling through his chest and into mine. "Come on, then. Let's go watch this train wreck of a wedding."
"Mikhail!" I protest but laugh as he helps me to my feet. "Don't jinx them. I hope they settle their battle of wills and fall in love, just like we did."
His expression sobers, just for a moment, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with surprising tenderness. "There's only one Kira Malakhov in this world. Vanya will have to find his own miracle."
The words wash over me, warm as the Tulum sun. I take his arm, feeling the solid strength of him beside me as we step out into the afternoon light, heading toward the celebration of another union born of duty rather than desire.
But as Mikhail's hand covers mine where it rests in the crook of his elbow, I can't help but hope that Inez and Vanya discover what we know now—that sometimes, the coldest arrangements can forge the hottest flames.