Page 178 of Ruthless Rustanovs

Sola could only imagine how Ivan felt as he watched her walk away. The complete opposite of whatever he’d been hoping for when he showed up at Alexei’s gala with his movie star makeover.

All those surgeries he’d endured, and all the things he’d done to make sure she ended up in St. Petersburg with him. He probably thought she’d just fall into his arms like the last six months had never happened.

But not Sola. Instead, she’d slapped him and stormed off, giving Sirena Rustanov—the best and only opera diva she knew—a run for her dramatic money.

Stormed off so well, Ivan could only watch her leave in stunned silence, as his months of effort and planning turned to ashes.

Stormed off so well, she knew he was completely surprised when he returned to his limo shortly after her dramatic exit to find her leaning up against the car door, with her arms crossed over the plunging neckline of her little black dress.

“Sola?” he said, big head crooking to the side as if he weren’t sure she was real, or just a figment of his imagination.

“That back there,” she said, jabbing her finger toward the steps where Ivan had made his huge announcement, “is not how you do a dramatic reveal.”

Then she turned her hand, palm up, and circled it slowly just in front of her face. “This is how you do a dramatic reveal.”

Ivan stared at her, the very picture of incredulity, for moments on end. But then his lips spread into wide smile.

“Sola,” he said, his tone now indulgent. “You never cease to surprise me.”

It was finally her turn to grin, to let Ivan off the hook for making her suffer without his big, stupid, best-she-ever-had self.

“Good, now you get it,” she told him softly, stringing her arms around his thick neck. “Don’t ever try to out-surprise an opera nerd. You, sir, need to stay in your lane.”

“Hmmm. If I were you, I would not claim victory just yet,” Ivan answered.

Then seemingly out of nowhere, an octagon-shaped leather box appeared in the space between them.

Sola’s eyes widened when he flipped it open with one large thumb to reveal a dazzling diamond ring. “Surprise, Sola, I love you, too.”

Sola could only cover her mouth with both hands. “Oh, Ivan…” she whispered, her brown eyes filling with happy tears.

“We have ‘just this one life to live,’” he reminded her, quoting Sola’s own words back at her. “And I want to live the rest of mine with you.”

Less than five minutes later, and one word uttered by Ivan—a word Sola could only assume meant “scram” in Russian—they were once again in the back of a limo.

But unlike the last time, their passion was dialed up several notches, thanks to the ring now gracing Sola’s left hand. And the promises they’d made to be together forever.

It was their first time seeing each other in six months and neither was interested in playing it cool.

Sola immediately swung a leg over his big body, climbing on top of him with a desperation she couldn’t disguise.

Ivan had his pants unzipped and his hands beneath the narrow skirt of Sola’s black cocktail dress, by the time she got into position on top of him.

They both groaned when he pushed her panties aside, and sank her down onto his naked cock.

Both his large hands fisted in her hair, and he pulled her to him for a long, hungry kiss.

For minutes on end, all either of them knew was the feel of each other.

Lips crashing, bodies rolling together as the smell of their combined sex filled up the limo’s back seat.

“Don’t stop!” Sola cried, even though he had no intention of doing so.

“I won’t,” he promised, voice little more than a guttural whisper. “You saved me from myself. You loved me at my ugliest. I will never stop. Not until we are both dead.”

That was it. Sola came undone, the orgasm cresting over her in the aftermath of his promise.

And he came soon after, still crooning in her ear about what their future would look like together.

How it would be for them as husband and wife.

How he’d spend the rest of his life proving to her that he’d finally become the man she deserved.