Russian Mobster's Stolen Wife (3 page)

“You’re mental. I’m not going to fall in love with my captor and then work against law enforcement to make sure he doesn’t get caught. I’m going to flag down every cop I see and tell them you’re a sociopath.”

“I’m not a sociopath. A sociopath would have just killed you. Or he would have taken what you’ve just told me you don’t want to give. Remember that. All right?” For some reason, this was important to Grigori. “I’m not a monster. I’m just a man trying to get by in a world populated by people like your father.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. “You think I don’t feel the same way? You think he wronged you? What do you think it’s like to be his kid?”

“Gee, I just watched you complain about not being able to go to a concert and telling your father that you’re a strong, independent woman who has her own job and goes to school while living at home so she has
no bills
.” He couldn’t quite hide the bitterness he felt toward people like her. “I’m sure it was really awful to be his child.”

“You’re just like everyone else,” she said with cool indifference. “You might pretend to be a bad ass, but you’re nothing but a whiny bitch who didn’t get a pony for your birthday.” Then she laughed. “Remember that ponies bite and nothing in life comes free.”

FLYNN HATED WHEN people thought she lived a charmed life just because her parents were financially comfortable and her father was an important man. They forgot that those things always came at a price. At least they did in Flynn’s world.

She probably should have been trying to escape. But she wasn’t. Escape didn’t matter anymore. She wasn’t going to allow him to hurt her sister. Nothing was worth Cynthia getting pulled into this fiasco. Especially since this ridiculousness was only going to feed her father’s love for drama.

That thought made her laugh. And once she started, she couldn’t stop. It was as if her nerves were shot. She was heaving and giggling and snorting without even truly understanding why. The only bonus was that it was very likely freaking Grigori out.

“What is your problem?” he asked tersely. “Shut up!”

“No!” She guffawed until her ribs ached. “Why should I? It’s not like you can do worse than you already are. You’re going to marry me, and that will be it. Right? My life will be over.”

Except it really wouldn’t be. Flynn began working out a plan in her head, a very daring, completely outrageous plan.

“I can beat you.”

She didn’t buy his threat. “You won’t do that. If you were inclined to beat a woman, you would have done it ten times over after all the trouble I’ve caused you.”

He muttered something in Russian and took a turn so quickly that she lost her balance and fell over sideways. The jerk.

“I have a proposition for you!” she shouted.

He snorted so loudly she could almost picture the caustic expression he was probably wearing. “You have one for
me
?”

“Yes.” She went slowly, trying to work it through. “You just want the marriage in order to stay in the country, right?”

“
Da.
Yes. Of course. I don’t want anything else from you.”

“Well, immigration has a lot of rules and laws about that sort of thing, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” His voice sounded tight. Obviously he hadn’t really thought this through to the end. He cleared his throat, apparently gathering his composure. “I marry a citizen, I get a green card and eventually become a citizen.”

“That doesn’t get your brother back over here, by the way.”

“I’ll find him a bride as soon as I get my own situation squared away.”

They took another wild turn. Where was this church? Middle of Nowhere, USA? Flynn struggled to keep herself upright. “Immigration got wise to that whole thing decades ago. They actually do interviews and home visits to determine whether or not a couple is lying about their marriage or if they’re a real couple. They don’t allow that farcical stuff anymore. So if they try to deport you and you just produce a marriage certificate, they’re still going to put you on the next plane, boat, or barge—whatever—back to Russia.”

He started saying something in rapid Russian. He was talking too quickly to understand. She could only assume that he was cursing. Then he made a hissing noise, and she heard pounding against something. The steering wheel?

“Sorry to put such a wrench in your plans,” she called out, practically singing the words like a dirge. “But I do have an alternate option.” At least she did if he was willing to run interference with her father, just until she turned twenty-one and got control of her own money. It was only another seven months. No big deal, right?

“What?” he snarled.

“I’ll marry you, of my own free will. And I’ll bullshit the immigration officials accordingly, and my father.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You have to let me do whatever I want.”

“Excuse me?”

She sighed with eager anticipation. “I want to go to school, change my major from political science to journalism, and become a writer. I don’t want you breathing down my neck every second. I want to spend my money how I want. I want to eat when and what I want to. You know, pretty much just live my life without you bossing me around every second.”

“Do I strike you as the type of man that can provide that hands-off approach to a relationship?” He did not sound amused. “I’m not going to stand back and let you fuck every other man but me. If I’m stuck being celibate in this marriage, so are you.”

“Okay, hold up.” She struggled with her arms, scooting the bag up until her face was exposed. She needed to see, and she was having trouble breathing. At last, the silly thing slid over her head and she was free. “Finally!”

“Stop squirming.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Fuck off. You don’t get to give the orders right now. You need me more than I need you.”

“What?” She could see him twist in the driver’s seat, as if he were trying to figure out what had just happened.

“You heard me.” She shook her head to get her hair out of her face. “And I’m not going to be screwing around and hurting your manly image. I promise. The
last
thing I need is some guy in my bed telling me what to do and thinking he gets to make the rules because he has a penis.”

Grigori burst out laughing then. Flynn was a little taken aback. What was his problem anyway? She’d made things pretty clear.

“Are you getting this?” she said.

“Loud and clear, princess. I marry your bossy little butt. I get to stay in this country. In return, you get to live as you please. You didn’t specify how you’re going to pay for this life you wish to lead.”

“Excuse me?” She drew herself up. “I have a job.”

“So you have an apartment?”

“What? No!” Flynn was beginning to see the holes in her plan. Dammit.

“That’s all right, princess.” He smiled into the rearview mirror. She hated how his smile actually made her stomach drop. She shouldn’t find him attractive. Then he winked at her. “You can live with me. It’ll make the whole charade more believable.”

“Oh fabulous. I can’t wait to see what your refrigerator looks like. Really.”

He was still laughing when he hit the brakes so hard that she tumbled forward and face planted on the floor of the van. What an auspicious beginning.

Chapter Four

Grigori got out of the van and took a moment to get himself back under control. He wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened, but he’d been neatly outmaneuvered by a piece of fluff with bewitching green eyes.

“Grigori!” Anson called through the front doors of the little white church nestled in a copse of trees. “You’re over an hour late. We had to convince the minister not to bail.”

“Let’s just say I had some unexpected complications.” Grigori didn’t even care to try and explain what those complications had been. How would it look to tell his comrades that he’d been attacked and beaten by a ninety pound woman?

“What happened to your face?” Anson cocked his head, approaching Grigori with a look of wonder. “Were there security guards?”

“I wish that was the case, but no.” Grigori didn’t check his surly tone. “Just help me get her out of the van.”

“No problem, boss.”

“Anson,” Grigori warned.

Anson frowned, and then realized what he’d done. “Oh, right. Sorry, boss. I’m not supposed to call you boss. Except you’re my boss.”

“No.” Grigori ground his teeth together. “Yuri is your boss.”

Anson grunted, obviously not convinced that Yuri Lagunov was worthy of being in charge of the local branch of the Russian mafia in the Richmond area. But there was no more arguing as Anson opened the sliding door of the van.

Grigori braced himself when the door opened. He half expected Flynn to spring from the depths of the van and attack them with some weapon she’d fashioned from the trash in the back of the vehicle. But nothing happened, and he quickly felt stupid for being apprehensive.

Anson whistled. “She’s beautiful, boss. You’re a lucky man.”

“Thank you,” Flynn said primly. Then she glared at Grigori. “It’s nice to know that
some
of my future husband’s friends are not total assholes.”

Grigori got the satisfaction of watching Anson blink in brief but total shock. Then Anson turned to Grigori and said in Russian, “She’s got quite a mouth on her, hmm?”

“You know,” she said in a conversational tone. “It isn’t polite to speak in another language to purposefully exclude someone from a conversation, especially when you aren’t even certain that they don’t speak that language. And yes. I do have a mouth on me.”

Now Grigori and Anson were both left staring in openmouthed shock.

Grigori managed to recover his wits, but his mind was spinning. “You speak Russian?”

Her shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. “I do. Not well, and not what I would call fluently, but I do speak Russian. And I understand it far better than I speak it.”

“Well damn,” Anson said. “You’re a lucky man, boss.”

Grigori snorted. “That remains to be seen. Did you say that you convinced the minister to stick around?”

“Oh yes.” Anson nodded.

Grigori took Flynn’s arm and led her up the steps. He paused on the front porch of the country church. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he cut the zip ties binding her wrists. It probably wouldn’t score him any points with the minister if the bride arrived bound like a captive.

“So do we have a deal?” she asked anxiously.

Grigori wondered at the way her gaze was darting around. Was she expecting rescue, or was she worried it would come? “We have a deal.”

“That’s good. We should hurry up then.” She put her hands out and shoved open the church doors, walking boldly inside.

“Ah!” The minister jumped up from his place in the front pew. “Mr. Pasternak! You’ve arrived.” He threw a dark glance at Anson. “Finally.”

“Thank you so much for waiting, Pastor,” Flynn said. “As you can see...” She gestured to hers and Grigori’s rough appearance. “...we had some car trouble along the way.”

“Oh my dear, how awful!” The pastor was obviously charmed by Flynn’s manner.

Grigori had to admit that the woman was good at putting people at ease. Hell, she’d pretty much done it with him. “If we could hurry up the proceedings, I’m sure you have somewhere else to be. And we have honeymoon plans as well.”

The pastor clapped his hands, his eyes opening wide. “Oh, how wonderful! Of course! Let’s begin.”

“The short version, I think,” Flynn said. “I’m just so excited and nervous to be married to my wonderful...” Her voice hesitated only briefly over his name. “...Grigori.”

“Oh of course, of course!” The pastor reached for the Bible he’d left on the pew. “Although we
are
missing a witness.”

Grigori threw a glance over his shoulder at Anson. “Where is Igor?”

“Coming.” Anson glanced at his phone. “He’s three minutes out, boss.”

“Wonderful.” The pastor glanced hastily from the bride to the groom. “I suppose we’ll just get started then.”

She reached out and gently touched the pastor’s wrist. “Wonderful!”

The brief contact seemed to give the pastor the necessary courage to continue. Grigori was amazed. Flynn was a first rate scam artist. Which begged the question, was everything she was inferring about her father correct? Or was she scamming Grigori too?

“We are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the pastor began.

Grigori managed not to let his mind wander too far. He also managed to avoid snorting in amusement as the pastor droned on and on about love and respect. He’d met his bride less than two hours ago, and she’d tried to kill him twice. Although that did give him a sort of grudging respect for her, so maybe it was all in the eye of the beholder.

FLYNN FIDGETED AND tried not to be too obvious about watching the exits. Despite what her husband-to-be might think, she wasn’t looking for escape. She was actually a little worried about rescue. Her father’s security detail was bound to have discovered her abandoned car by now.

She might have welcomed that an hour ago. But now that she had a deal with Grigori to live her life interference free in exchange for her cooperation, she had no interest in returning to her father’s house.

“…forsaking all others and clinging to one another in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?” The pastor finally got to the yes part.

“Yes!” She nearly shouted. “I do. Yep. Very willingly in fact.” There. Nobody could argue her participation later. Not after that freakish answer.

“And you, Grigori Pasternak,” the pastor said. “Do you take Flynn Callaghan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and hold, forsaking all others and clinging to one another in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”

Grigori was staring at her. Flynn tried to meet his dark gaze, but it was incredibly intense. She was blushing. Great. At least it completed the whole blushing bride image she was trying to project.

“I do,” Grigori said in his gritty, sexy voice.

Wait. She wasn’t supposed to think of him as sexy. Except now, she was going to have to kiss him. Shit.