Read Born to be Bad (International Bad Boys Book 3) Online
Authors: Carol Marinelli
Tags: #Romance, #Bad Boys
“You were brilliant,” Roman said coming into her dressing room as Milly opened a jar of cold-cream to do her face.
“You say that every night.”
Roman put the lid on the jar and pulled her to a stand and into his arms.
“It’s lucky that it only ran for eight weeks, or Desdemona might have had a lot more explaining to do to Othello,” Roman said, running a hand over her stomach, as Milly laughed.
Thank goodness for the brilliant wardrobe mistresses who kept patiently letting the dresses out, and the lighting engineers who did what they could to dim the increasingly obvious, when Milly stood on her side or lay flat on the bed.
“Come on, Milly,” Sebastian, knocked on the door along with Hannah the wardrobe mistress to help her out of her robe. “We’re going to be late for the after party.”
“I just need to get changed,” Milly said, wriggling out of Roman’s arms. “And take off my make-up.”
“No time,” Sebastian said. “The cars are waiting. You look gorgeous.”
“Wear it out,” Hannah the wardrobe mistress said and handed her some pale pink ballet pumps to put on. “Why not!”
Milly really was going to miss them all the cast and crew so much. Over the past weeks, they had become like a little family. They had all done everything they could to guard, not just the fact that Milly was pregnant, but that she was engaged to marry Roman Zaretsky.
“Happy?” Roman checked as they drove through London to the restaurant where the after party was being held.
“So, so happy,” Milly said . . . and then, she frowned as instead of pulling up at a restaurant, the car pulled up outside a church that Milly recognised from times she had sat in front of her television watched the Zaretskys from afar.
“What are we doing here?” Milly asked.
“Hopefully, we are getting married,” Roman said. “Marry me Milly, before the press get hold of us, marry me while it is just about us, and there are no cameras apart from our family and friends.”
“I’d love to.” She blinked, realising now why she was still in full make up and wearing her favourite gown.
Roman had planned it, along with the cast and crew.
It was close to midnight as Milly stepped out of the car.
Kate was waiting and she put a small circle of flowers on Milly’s head and told her that she made a beautiful bride.
She felt it.
And she had never felt more loved when her mother sat in her chair as she entered the church to join Milly on the walk down the aisle.
“I’ve been so worried I’d forget and give away the secret,” Catherine said as they embraced.
“Even if you had,” Milly smiled. “I’d have thought you were dreaming.”
She could never have imagined this might happen to her.
The church was decorated beautifully. It was lit with pillars of white candles. Roman had thought of every detail for there were flowers over the aisle and tied to every pew and the scent that greeted her was a blend of roses and lilac. It was the same scent she had inhaled when she had walked, innocent, into his suite that night.
And now, innocent, except to him, Milly walked towards her future husband.
He trusted her with his heart and she would trust him with her life.
It was a short service. Milly said yes, without hesitation, and Roman said the same.
He slipped a ring on her finger that would remain there forever and then replaced her engagement ring.
Past and future joined now.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Roman didn’t need to be told, he already was.
The congregation stood and Milly received her second standing ovation that night.
Only then, as she walked down the aisle, did she really see all who were there.
Simon, her friend, handed her flowers.
All the cast and crew.
Her mother and the staff from the nursing home.
Milly knew she was surrounded by love.
“We’re going to have a party at the restaurant now.” Roman smiled and kissed her again. “You can sleep on the plane.”
“The plane?”
“We fly to Russia at dawn,” Roman said. “Soon there will be the baby and then you are going to be an amazing Lady Macbeth. I want you with me for this.”
“I’ll be with you,” Milly said. “Always.”
And then, she spoke in Russian to him, said the words that so often Roman comforted her with.
“
Vsyo budet horosho
” Milly whispered.
Everything would be all right.
F
or Roman life
had been black until Milly had come into his life.
He had not believed in miracles, nor love and light.
He looked at his wife, sleeping beside him in the car.
There had been many stop-starts in their search for his history. There were few records, no neat answers and tonight they were flying back to London.
They had found out little, but the little they knew was that Grand Duke Mikhail Iosef Romanzky, second cousin to the Tsar, had married a commoner who had inherited a farm.
Some documents, that Kate had unearthed, suggested he had lived in exile in Penza, southeast of Moscow.
There were no children, the lineage ended there.
Except, Roman was now sure, it didn’t.
As the driver pulled up at yet another remote farm, the driver told him of the black earth belt and how the fertile soil had once fed the hungry.
A farmhouse caught Roman’s eyes, it was dilapidated and it was clear that no-one lived there now, except the fields around it had been worked.
“Stop here,” Roman said and, not wanting to wake Milly for another false start, he climbed out.
It was late summer and soon it would be harvest time. Some fields swayed with gold wheat and others were ripe and heavy with crops.
He walked down a path and somehow it felt familiar. It was not possible, Roman knew, for he had never been here before.
Or had he?
He looked to a tree, its majestic shape was familiar, and there were grainy memories of his mother once bringing them here.
He had sat beneath this tree with his mother, Roman was sure, eating a bread roll. He took out his phone and called Isaak.
“You remember when he was in hospital?” Roman said. “We took an overnight train with our mother.”
“We had a picnic,” Isaak said.
His family, his history was here, Roman knew it in his bones. It had been no random location, his mother had been planting seeds in their minds then—she had taken her children to her lover’s past.
Those seeds she had planted were starting to flourish now.
“I’ve found it,” Roman said and he turned and saw Milly walking down the path towards him and he told Isaak that he would call him back.
Milly had never looked more beautiful than now, Roman thought. Her curls fell loose and the low afternoon sun behind her revealed the outline of her legs through her dress.
“It’s here,” Roman said and there was a shiver that ran down both their spines as they looked around. “My mother brought us here when we were very small. It was just a picnic, she said. But there was more to it than that, I am sure.”
They walked a little further to the house and Roman pushed a creaking door open and they stepped inside.
It was large and would once have been very beautiful, but was in desperate need of repair. In what they assumed was the lounge area was a large fireplace and the dusty windows looked out to the sun setting over mile after mile of fertile land.
“If she was running from my grandfather, how would she know to come here?”
“I don’t know,” Milly said. “But if Danya did run to here, then we’ll find out just what happened.”
Roman turned from the window and to his pregnant wife.
“We should go.” Roman said. “It’s cold in here.”
It wasn’t cold, Milly thought as she looked around, it was simply dark and unlived in.
“We should go,” Roman said again, but when he came over to Milly he saw that there was kindling beneath the wood in the fire. “Or stay a while?”
Milly nodded and Roman lit a match and threw it onto the fire.
She watched and stared at the gathering flames and waited for the cough of the chimney.
It never came.
“I would never have got here without you.” Roman admitted.
“You would have,” Milly smiled. “It just might have taken a little longer.”
“No,” Roman said. He wasn’t just talking about the house they now stood in. He thought of the dark times that were far behind him now. Roman had never known such happiness existed until Milly had come into his life.
“I like to think that my grandmother might have known some good times here.”
“I’m sure that she did.”
There was a certain peace to the place, Milly thought as Roman came and stood behind her and held her around her waist.
She watched as the fire licked the corners of the logs as it burrowed further in but then Milly closed her eyes as Roman lifted her hair and his mouth explored the back of her neck.
“We’ll make our own memories of here,” Roman whispered. His hands caressed her breasts and, rather than turn, Milly pushed back into Roman in consent.
Roman moved her to the side of the fire and positioned her hands to grip the fireplace.
Milly stood, shaking a little in anticipation. There was the blissful sound of his zipper sliding down and then the slow tease of no contact.
“Roman . . . ” she went to turn her head but resisted and gripped tighter to the fireplace.
She felt the cool from behind as he lifted her dress and pulled down her panties.
Here, before they drove to take their flight to London, Milly clung onto the fireplace as Roman took her to a place that only he knew how.
She was so wet and oiled that he entered her easily. Roman then held her hips and started to slowly thrust into her but not all the way.
“More,” Milly whispered.
“Shush,” Roman breathed because the soft grip of her was so welcoming that he was fighting not to come.
“More,” Milly begged but then was glad that she had resisted the urge to push back as his hands tightened on her hips. Roman moved her now to his pleasure and took her faster. She liked the rapid guide of his hands as over and over he deeply filled her. So easily he tripped the switch in Milly. The intensity of Roman, the urgent desire that he claimed her with now had her breathless.
“More?” Roman checked and that delicious word finished her.
The tension that tore through her body signaled to Roman that he could finally give in. He shot into her, slowly thrusting, loving that
now
Milly ground back into him just to claim those last precious drops.
“I love you, Milly.” Roman said, and she rested her head on her arm as he slowly pulled out of her.
He said it often and easily now.
Roman turned her to him then and held her as her racing heart slowed. Her face was flushed both from the fire and their lovemaking and she rested her cheek on his cool shirt and told Roman that she loved him too.
“I know that you do,” Roman said.
Here with her stomach pressed into him, their baby kicking between them, Roman was filled with a peace he’d thought he might never know. Roman took her hand and felt not just the wedding band but also the exquisite ring that, like the woman he loved, still held so much mystery.
He was certain of love, and certain of one other thing too.
“This is where it all began.”
The End
Meet Carol Marinelli’s Other Sexy Russian
A romantic honeymoon in Paris, with a sexy billionaire Russian groom . . . .
There are only two problems. It’s a marriage of convenience. And, the virgin bride is frigid.
Kate Edwards has never embraced her sensuality, is terrified of intimacy, and the wedding night is a disaster. Instead of calling the whole thing off, Isaak Zaretsky listens to her and challenges her using his unashamedly sensual nature and superb bedroom skills. But can Kate really give herself without love?
The Bride Who Wouldn’t
The International Bad Boy Series
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Born to be Bad
, you’ll love the other International Bad Boy stories!