Page 7 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

“Didn’t you say that your mother wanted you to marry someone else?” she asks, nervously fiddling with her hands on her lap, sitting in the passenger seat of my car as we drive towards my mother’s place.

“It wasn’t specifically because she liked the girl. It was for some other benefit to her that I wasn’t aware of. Are you worried?”

“No,” Ulyana replies tightly. She sounds worried.

And her fidgeting is an obvious sign of how nervous she is to meet my family.

I reach over and wrap my hand over both of hers, squeezing gently. Her skin is warm and smooth.

Her scent is floating in the car. Warm white jasmine. It’s sweet and fresh.

“They are going to love you,” I reassure her.

“I’m just worried because you told them we were already dating. Isn’t your mom going to be upset if she realizes we weren’t?”

“Ulyana, I promise you—it’s going to be okay. She will never know. And I’ll be right by your side the whole night.”

“Okay,” she sighs, nodding slowly.

“It’s just my mother and sister. It’s not a big event.”

“It’s actually worse that it’s just them,” she laughs. “It’s so much more intimate.”

I haven’t let go of her hands yet. I slide my hand off hers, but let it rest on her thigh, glancing at her toned legs and the way her tight jeans wrap them perfectly.

“Just be yourself. You don’t have to worry about anything,” I say, rubbing my hand up and down her leg.

She doesn’t push me away and my heart beats a little faster.

I turn into the street my mother lives on, driving past extravagant houses towards the end of the road.

She’s right to be wary of my mother finding out that our marriage was somewhat fake.

I don’t need her finding out. I honestly don’t have the patience or energy to deal with the lectures and drama that will follow.

My mother can be such a diva at times. I’m trying hard to change my views of her, to adjust our relationship so that she can be a mother to me. But it’s a process. One I’m willing to work on if she can learn to stay out of my business.

I love her, she’s my mother, but I can’t stand how she makes everything so much bigger than it needs to be. And how she meddles, thinking that her way is the only way.

Sighing loudly, earning myself a concerned glance from Ulyana, I turn into the driveway and park the car.

“Why do you sound nervous now?” she asks tightly, her brows knotting.

I chuckle and reach out to touch her face.

“I’m not nervous. My mother is just— intense , she wants to know everything . And she always knows what’s best. She can be a lot to handle. But I promise you, everything is going to be fine. You’ll do great.”

She scrunches up her nose, looking cute in her stress. I grin at her and tilt my head. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

I wait for Ulyana to climb out of the car, then wrap my hand around her waist to pull her close to my side as we walk up to the front door. My mother opens it, her eyes immediately on Ulyana.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m so glad you two could come over tonight. I didn’t even have a chance to meet you properly at the wedding.” She pulls Ulyana away from me into a warm embrace.

Belle is waiting just inside, and she bowls into Ulyana, hugging her with less elegance than my mother did.

“I’m so excited,” she says, grinning at my wife. “I want to know all about you.” She takes Ulyana’s hand and pulls her into the house.

My mother looks me up and down, her eyes narrowed, then a smile breaks out over her face. “She’s absolutely beautiful, Benedikt,” she says in approval.

She leads me through to the kitchen, where Belle has roped Ulyana into helping make a giant salad.

My mother walks over to the stove and picks up the wooden spoon, dipping it into a pot to stir a thick creamy sauce.

“Where’s the chef?” I ask, confused.

“Oh no, I sent him home tonight. Belle and I thought it would be fun to make your favorite food from when you were little.”

The familiar smells bring back fond memories of many, many years ago.

“Mac and cheese with crispy bacon bits and fried mushrooms?” I ask excitedly . It’s nice to see her trying to be a real mom.

“And extra cheese on the cheese,” my mother laughs. She turns to Ulyana and raises her brows. “This boy would steal an entire block of cheese from my fridge when he was little and eat the whole thing in one go like it was a chocolate bar.”

“When he was little?” Belle snorts.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t rat me out,” I glare at her.

She giggles and tilts her head to the side. “He did it last week,” she betrays me.

“Is that where my cheese went? I knew I couldn’t have finished it.” My mother blurts out. “I almost blamed the chef.”

“You, little sister, are going to hear from me later on,” I warn her, shooting daggers in her direction with a sharp look.

She laughs at me. “You, big brother, never kept your end of the deal.”

“What?” I ask in confusion.

She raises her brows, pouting her lips; clearly, I’ve forgotten something.

Suddenly, it all comes back to me. I promised to get her in touch with my SA so she could source a very sought after bag she’s dying for.

Belle isn’t like other the majority of the women in their world when it comes to material things, so when she wants something, it means it’s really special to her. And he fucking forgot about it.

“Shit,” I chuckle.

“Indeed,” Belle says.

“I’ll make a call tomorrow. Just message me to remind me. I forgot.”

“Big brothers,” Belle rolls her eyes dramatically at Ulyana.

“More trouble than they’re worth,” Ulyana joins in, teasing me.

I step up behind her, looking over her shoulder. She’s slicing tomatoes. “You look like you know what you’re doing with that knife,” I tease her.

“Let that be a warning to you,” she laughs.

“Is that so?”

“Don’t mess with that girl,” Belle says, raising her brows in mock fear.

My mother finishes mixing the mac and cheese into a big flat dish, then coats the top with layers and layers of grated cheese. When she’s done, she slides the entire thing into the oven to grill.

Then she pours us each a glass of white wine.

“Welcome to our family, Ulyana. We are so happy that Benedikt finally met someone special enough to settle down with. It makes my heart warm to see you two together.” My mother lifts her wine glass, and standing in the kitchen, with the scents of home cooking filling the air, we all raise our glasses.

I pull Ulyana a little closer to my side, proud to call her my own.

As the night goes on and conversation flows easily, I find myself filled with a sense of longing that catches me by surprise.

It’s an odd feeling.

A sense of family, wholeness and belonging. A sense of completion watching her interact with my mother and sister. It feels right.

Even my mother doesn’t seem as exhausting to be around tonight.

I press my lips together, clenching my jaw.

It’s just the wine. It’s making me soft. I’m perfectly happy in my life. Even before she came along, I was perfectly happy.

I have no idea why I’m feeling like this—I must be a bit tipsy, that’s all.

Unconsciously, Ulyana reaches out under the dinner table to rest her hand on my leg. This isn’t the first time she’s done this tonight. I think she’s seeking the comfort of my presence. I thread my fingers through hers, but I want her closer.

So I pull the edge of her chair, dragging her right next to me so that I can wrap my arm around her.

Besides, in front of my mother, we are newlyweds. In love. Can’t get enough of each other.

It’s not all a lie. I honestly can’t get enough of her, this evening especially. Her sweetness, her cheerful laughter, I keep getting drawn to her side like a magnet.

Belle and my mother are arguing about a product, some kind of face cream, one thinking it’s already got UV protection and the other saying it doesn’t.

Ulyana stands up and starts gathering the dirty dishes, stacking them neatly.

“I’ll help you with that,” I say, standing too. My mother stops her argument and starts to help as well, and I stop her. “Sit. You cooked, we’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, her eyes shining.

Ahead of me, Ulyana carries plates towards the kitchen. I follow with the leftover macaroni.

She sets the dishes down in the scullery and I cover the mac and put it back in on top a wooden board to cool down before it can go in the fridge.

When Ulyana walks past me, I grab her waist and pull her against my chest.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask, my lips hovering inches from hers.

“I am, your family is wonderful.” She smiles, her eyes wide and bright as she looks up at me.

My heart slams into my ribs as I lean down, closer. My lips press over hers.

She slips her arms around my waist and hugs herself tighter against me. My body burns with need for her.

It’s just a kiss. But I can’t get enough.

I hear footsteps and my mother and sister chatting as they walk into the kitchen. I don’t pull from Ulyana right away.

My lips are still against hers as she starts to smile.

I lean back, looking at her with warmth in my heart, reaching up to tuck a soft blonde curl behind her ear.

“What did you think of my favorite food ever?” I ask, grinning.

She laughs and says, “It might be my new favorite, too.”

Ulyana steps away from me to help Belle put away the random items left out after the cooking.

My mother pours some more wine and gets dessert ready—creme caramel cups with melted dark caramel sauce.

Instead of going back to the dinner table, we stand in the kitchen, chatting, laughing and eating out of the bowls we hold in our hands.

It’s a homely feeling, one I haven’t had in a while. Ulyana is by my side, leaning into me, talking to Belle about a book they’ve both read.

In this moment, everything seems perfect.

Ulyana is perfect.

And not for the first time, I am surprised by how incredibly lucky I was to be the one to marry this girl.

***

That night, lying in bed with her sleeping as far from me as possible, I roll to face her. Shifting closer to her, I wrap my arm around her waist and drag her across the mattress towards me.

She lets out a soft squeal of surprise.

“Shh. It’s okay, I’m not doing anything,” I reassure her, snuggling her back against my chest. She curves perfectly into me, fitting as though she belongs there.

At first her body is tense, but I keep my arm wrapped around her waist, just holding her, nothing more, even though I’m wild with desire for her and fighting my body’s reaction.

I want this intimacy. I want to feel close to her.

And this is a massive first step—her allowing me to get away with this.

Ulyana falls asleep before I do.

I lie awake for a long time, my cock rock-hard and pressing into her. Holding her was what I wanted—but now I want more.

I want everything from her.

I close my eyes and fight against myself.

When I eventually do fall asleep, I dream of doing things to her that make her gasp and breathe my name from those perfect lips.