Page 66
Story: The Pakhan's Sold Bride
Now I am fully aware that Miron is a snake. But the man he was talking to seemed to agree with him.
If that’s all I am, I don’t know. But I don’t want to get hurt by making this into something it isn’t.
I must remain level-headed and just enjoy my life, no longer plagued by debt collectors. I have a brand new friend, Ulyana. His family is all very sweet to me. If that’s what I get out of this, I’m happy.
Even though I really want more from him.
***
I change quickly, choosing a long, flowing dress in pale pink. It makes me look so pretty when I twirl in front of the long mirror in my bedroom. I choose flat white sandals and a small white purse.
The dress flows around me like water as I walk down the stairs towards Nestor, waiting near the front door.
“Wow,” he stammers, his mouth dropping open as he watches me.
When I arrive next to him, he takes my hand, lifts it above my head and spins me slowly around, admiring my dress from every angle.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” I grin.
“It’s not the dress that’s pretty, Lara. It’s you that makes it look so beautiful.”
“But,” I say, shaking my head, disagreeing with him.
“But what?” he knots his brows.
“It has pockets,” I exclaim, pushing my hands into them and showing them off.
Laughter rolls from his lips, and he pulls me towards him, kissing my forehead.
“I admit, I never knew a dress could be so powerful. It’s got pockets. It’s incredible,” he teases.
“Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes at him. “If I showed Ulyana, she would understand.”
“I have no doubt,” he muses, leading me out to the car.
The restaurant he’s chosen for us is a seafood place, right next to the ocean. The views from our table on the rooftop are magnificent, and because it’s still summer, we are here in time to see the best part of the sunset, when the sky starts changing colors and turning orange and pink and purple.
Our food has arrived, but Nestor is staring at me with an intense look.
“What?” I ask.
“Come with me, I need to take a photo of you in that dress with the sunset behind you. It’s too perfect.”
My heart flips in wonder at this man.
He knows the right things to say to melt my heart. I can’t believe he wants a photo of me, and that he even thought of it.
Nestor guides me through the shot, telling me to turn a little left, lift my chin, hold my hand like this—we’re laughing while he’s directing, and when he shows me the photos he’s taken, I am absolutely blown away.
I look like I’m in a fairytale world of magic. It’s breathtaking. I can’t believe it’s me standing there in that gorgeous dress with such a beautiful backdrop.
“I really do look pretty,” I murmur in shock.
“I need one more photo, go stand there again,” he says, setting his phone down on a nearby empty table, pointing ittoward where I am standing. He runs towards me, wraps his hand around my waist, and kisses me.
My heart flips again and starts racing as every cell in my body becomes alive beneath his touch.
He gently brushes his hand over my body, sensual but not inappropriate.
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