Por Dios, could he be more charming?
“I make this speech on behalf of myself and Dmitri, the youngest Sevastyan brother, who sadly couldn’t be here.” Aleks raised a brow at that.
With his deep voice resonating, Máxim said, “First, I would like to say spasiba—thank you—to all of you for your warm Nebraska hospitality. We from Russia appreciate it deeply, as does my beautiful lady from Florida.” He winked at me as he said, “Who is delighted to have come with me.”
My cheeks heated, and I mouthed, Devil.
“When I heard that my brother was to marry Natalie, I marveled at his fortune. She is everything Aleksandr could hope for in a wife. In fact, my brother heartily recommends this great Husker State for finding brides and apparently for something called . . . football?”
Laughter and cheers broke out. Oh, he was good.
He continued, “I wish our mother Roxana Antonovna Sevastyan could have met his soon-to-be wife. She would have called Natalie her dorogaya doch’ka, dearest daughter.”
Aleks’s uneasiness deepened.
If Máxim noticed, he didn’t show it. “Natalie is a credit to her family here: to the late Bill Porter—a guiding force in her life; to Tom Christianson—who’ll proudly walk her down the aisle tomorrow; and to Rebecca”—he leveled his blue gaze on her—“the lovely and most gracious mother of the bride.”
Thunk. I could all but hear Cupid’s arrow hitting her heart. She rested her chin on her hand and mooned over him. Natalie grinned and bumped her shoulder against her mother’s. Aleks narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Addressing the rest of the room, Máxim said, “Across the world in Russia, Elena Petrovna Andropova, Natalie’s birth mother, tragically passed away before she could know her daughter—but not before she loved her. Yet it was Natalie’s birth father, Pavel Kovalev, who brought her and Aleksandr together.”
Had I worried how Máxim would handle this speech? Natalie was in raptures. Strangely, Aleks looked like he was bracing for an inevitable hit.
“I’d met Kovalev, and sometimes crossed paths with him socially.” Máxim turned to Natalie. “As an aside, I never saw him so happy as he was in those pictures with you.”
Her eyes glinted again, her hand tightening on Aleks’s.
Máxim resumed his speech: “Though our mother started Aleksandr on the path to becoming an honorable and respected man, it was Kovalev who guided him the rest of the way. Kovalev was a gentleman of the old order who believed in the code: respect those who earn it, assist those who need it, and protect to the death all you hold dear. In his lifetime, he did all of these things.” Máxim paused a moment, letting everyone in the know reflect on the sacrifice. “He raised my older brother by the code; over these last few months, I’ve recognized that Aleksandr Sevastyan has become the man his beloved mentor always knew he could be. So no longer do I say how fortunate Aleksandr is to marry Natalie; I say how fortunate they both are to have found each other.” He raised his glass to the couple. “Katya and I, as well as Dmitri, wish all blessings upon you for a long and joyful marriage. Schast’ya vam. Happiness to you.”
Cheers broke out, everyone drinking. Máxim had included me, like we were together, together.
Aleks gazed at his brother as if he didn’t recognize him. Then, weirdly, he shifted that dumbfounded expression—to me.
Natalie mouthed “Thank you” to Máxim. Turning to Aleks, she gave him an I told you so look.
To the crowd, Máxim called, “Vyp’em za lyubov’! Let’s drink to love.” This time he raised his glass only to me.
Jets. Overheating. Mal funcionamiento. My glass shook on the way to my lips.
He sat down nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just made a roomful of people claw out their hearts in tribute to him. Myself included. “How did I do?”
His speech had left me speechless.
He curled his fingers, buffing his nails. “I know, baby girl, I’m that good.”
CHAPTER 29
As dinner wound down, Jess declared to the table, “Natalie, hot mamí, and I are late for the bar.”
“I’m not a big drinker,” I told her. “More accurately, I’m a very bad drinker.”
Máxim raised his brows: Understatement, then?
Jess said, “I scheduled the ceremony for tomorrow night, because I could, and because I’m fucking brilliant like that. We’ll have all day to recover.” To Máxim, she said, “I’ll get Cat drunk for you, so maybe you can get to first base.”
As she dragged me and Natalie to the adjoining bar, I looked over my shoulder at Máxim. Help!
He held his palms up, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.
The barroom was as dark-paneled as the Grand Hall. Huskers memorabilia lined the walls. Top 40 country music played on a jukebox.
At the bar, Jess ordered a round of tequila shots. Natalie looked around. “Did you scare off Polly?”
Jess said, “She slipped out thirty minutes ago. One of the groomsmen slipped out thirty-four minutes ago. Polly ought to be choking on motherland tonsil right about now.”
How had Jess noticed them leaving? She’d always been engaged with our table’s conversation. Not for the first time tonight, I wondered if Jess’s carefree attitude masked a keen intellect.
The bartender served up shots, salt, and lemon wedges. “Are we really doing this?” I asked, though I already had the salt shaker in hand.
“I make this speech on behalf of myself and Dmitri, the youngest Sevastyan brother, who sadly couldn’t be here.” Aleks raised a brow at that.
With his deep voice resonating, Máxim said, “First, I would like to say spasiba—thank you—to all of you for your warm Nebraska hospitality. We from Russia appreciate it deeply, as does my beautiful lady from Florida.” He winked at me as he said, “Who is delighted to have come with me.”
My cheeks heated, and I mouthed, Devil.
“When I heard that my brother was to marry Natalie, I marveled at his fortune. She is everything Aleksandr could hope for in a wife. In fact, my brother heartily recommends this great Husker State for finding brides and apparently for something called . . . football?”
Laughter and cheers broke out. Oh, he was good.
He continued, “I wish our mother Roxana Antonovna Sevastyan could have met his soon-to-be wife. She would have called Natalie her dorogaya doch’ka, dearest daughter.”
Aleks’s uneasiness deepened.
If Máxim noticed, he didn’t show it. “Natalie is a credit to her family here: to the late Bill Porter—a guiding force in her life; to Tom Christianson—who’ll proudly walk her down the aisle tomorrow; and to Rebecca”—he leveled his blue gaze on her—“the lovely and most gracious mother of the bride.”
Thunk. I could all but hear Cupid’s arrow hitting her heart. She rested her chin on her hand and mooned over him. Natalie grinned and bumped her shoulder against her mother’s. Aleks narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Addressing the rest of the room, Máxim said, “Across the world in Russia, Elena Petrovna Andropova, Natalie’s birth mother, tragically passed away before she could know her daughter—but not before she loved her. Yet it was Natalie’s birth father, Pavel Kovalev, who brought her and Aleksandr together.”
Had I worried how Máxim would handle this speech? Natalie was in raptures. Strangely, Aleks looked like he was bracing for an inevitable hit.
“I’d met Kovalev, and sometimes crossed paths with him socially.” Máxim turned to Natalie. “As an aside, I never saw him so happy as he was in those pictures with you.”
Her eyes glinted again, her hand tightening on Aleks’s.
Máxim resumed his speech: “Though our mother started Aleksandr on the path to becoming an honorable and respected man, it was Kovalev who guided him the rest of the way. Kovalev was a gentleman of the old order who believed in the code: respect those who earn it, assist those who need it, and protect to the death all you hold dear. In his lifetime, he did all of these things.” Máxim paused a moment, letting everyone in the know reflect on the sacrifice. “He raised my older brother by the code; over these last few months, I’ve recognized that Aleksandr Sevastyan has become the man his beloved mentor always knew he could be. So no longer do I say how fortunate Aleksandr is to marry Natalie; I say how fortunate they both are to have found each other.” He raised his glass to the couple. “Katya and I, as well as Dmitri, wish all blessings upon you for a long and joyful marriage. Schast’ya vam. Happiness to you.”
Cheers broke out, everyone drinking. Máxim had included me, like we were together, together.
Aleks gazed at his brother as if he didn’t recognize him. Then, weirdly, he shifted that dumbfounded expression—to me.
Natalie mouthed “Thank you” to Máxim. Turning to Aleks, she gave him an I told you so look.
To the crowd, Máxim called, “Vyp’em za lyubov’! Let’s drink to love.” This time he raised his glass only to me.
Jets. Overheating. Mal funcionamiento. My glass shook on the way to my lips.
He sat down nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just made a roomful of people claw out their hearts in tribute to him. Myself included. “How did I do?”
His speech had left me speechless.
He curled his fingers, buffing his nails. “I know, baby girl, I’m that good.”
CHAPTER 29
As dinner wound down, Jess declared to the table, “Natalie, hot mamí, and I are late for the bar.”
“I’m not a big drinker,” I told her. “More accurately, I’m a very bad drinker.”
Máxim raised his brows: Understatement, then?
Jess said, “I scheduled the ceremony for tomorrow night, because I could, and because I’m fucking brilliant like that. We’ll have all day to recover.” To Máxim, she said, “I’ll get Cat drunk for you, so maybe you can get to first base.”
As she dragged me and Natalie to the adjoining bar, I looked over my shoulder at Máxim. Help!
He held his palms up, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.
The barroom was as dark-paneled as the Grand Hall. Huskers memorabilia lined the walls. Top 40 country music played on a jukebox.
At the bar, Jess ordered a round of tequila shots. Natalie looked around. “Did you scare off Polly?”
Jess said, “She slipped out thirty minutes ago. One of the groomsmen slipped out thirty-four minutes ago. Polly ought to be choking on motherland tonsil right about now.”
How had Jess noticed them leaving? She’d always been engaged with our table’s conversation. Not for the first time tonight, I wondered if Jess’s carefree attitude masked a keen intellect.
The bartender served up shots, salt, and lemon wedges. “Are we really doing this?” I asked, though I already had the salt shaker in hand.
