Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“Love, for starters.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Maxim. Have you lost your mind? What do you even have in common?”
“Music, for one thing.”
She ignores me; she’s on a roll. “And doing this just weeks after Kit’s death? This is your grief—you know that, don’t you? We’ve not had enough time to mourn. Have you no respect?”
“Well, the timing’s not great, but—”
“Not great! Why the alacrity?” Her eyes widen. “Oh no.” Her voice drops. “Don’t tell me she’s preggers.”
I grit my teeth, barely holding on to my temper. “No. She isn’t. It’s—” I sigh and run a hand through my hair as I struggle to find an explanation that will satisfy her.
“It’s what!”
“It’s complicated.”
She glares at me, and I swear if I were dry tinder, I’d be a pile of burnt ashes. She’s livid, but suddenly her face falls. “And to think you would go ahead with this farce without even inviting us!” Her voice cracks, and tears well in her eyes.
Shit. M.A.!
She’s hurt.
“That’s what’s most wounding,” she whispers.
Her words are a gut punch.
Hell. I had no idea she’d feel this way.
“Is that the problem?” My tone is softer. “My marrying Alessia, or you not getting an invite?”
“The problem is you thinking that we wouldn’t want to be here. Even in the back of beyond! Or it’s that you didn’t want us here. Either of those options is hurtful. What’s wrong with you, Maxie? I’ve already lost one brother this year. You’re all I have. You are my family.” Her tears are flowing now. “And that you’d go through this without us.” She sniffles and drags a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe her nose.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry.” I open my arms, and she walks straight into them without hesitating and hugs me hard.
“And I had to find out from Caro,” she splutters.
“M.A., I didn’t think,” I whisper into her hair. “This has all happened so quickly. And we’ll celebrate in London or Cornwall and do it again there. And just so you know, this isn’t a fucking farce.
“I’m getting married because I’ve met a woman I’m passionately in love with, and I want to grow old with her. Alessia is everything to me, and I’ve come alive since I met her. She’s supportive, caring, and compassionate. She’s amazing. I’ve never met anyone like her, and I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I need her, and what’s more, she needs me.”
Dude, quite the speech.
She lets out a long, shaky breath and examines me with red-rimmed eyes. “You have fallen hard, haven’t you?”
I nod.
“You know it’s going to be hard for her, stepping into the role that’s expected of her.”
“I know. But she has us to help. Doesn’t she?”
She studies me once more and sighs. “If she makes you happy, because that’s all I want for you, Maxim, then yes, she does.”
I smile. “Thank you. She makes me more than happy. And I hope I do the same for her.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is. And funny and sweet and loving.”
Maryanne’s eyes soften.
“And she’s extremely talented.”
“In what?” Maryanne cocks a brow.
I laugh. “Alessia’s a pianist.”
“Oh.” She’s surprised and glances at the old upright piano that has pride of place in the drawing room. “I can’t wait to hear.”
“Um… did you tell the Mothership?”
Maryanne narrows her eyes. “No. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“She has feelings?”
“Maxim!”
“We should get back.”
Everyone, bar Shpresa, is seated at the table. Alessia glances at me as Maryanne and I enter. She frowns and looks down at her nails, even though I try to telepathically reassure her that everything is okay. Caroline’s eyes narrow as I hold out a chair for Maryanne to sit upon, and I know that in the not-too-distant future, I will face the same conversation that I’ve just had with my sister, with my sister-in-law.
Shpresa is bringing over a pot of tea, some cups, and a bottle of raki with several glasses.
Raki. Already? Oh boy.
* * *
Alessia twists the apron between her fingers. Maxim’s sister is as elegant as Caroline. She’s tall and beautiful, with vibrant red hair, and she’s dressed as smartly as her sister-in-law.
How can Alessia hope to fit in with these women?
The English are such terrible snobs. They’ll despise you. They’ll look down on you. Anatoli’s words return to haunt her and put Alessia on her guard.
Shpresa offers the women tea and the men raki.
“These women must stay here,” her father says to her mother.
“Yes,” her mother agrees. “Alessia, tell them.”
“I can help,” Thanas says as he skeptically eyes his glass of raki.
“It’s okay,” Alessia says in English. “Caroline, Maryanne, you are welcome to stay here. You will have to share a room.”
“That’s very kind of you, Alessia. We had thought we’d check into a local hotel,” Caroline responds.
“You are welcome here,” Shpresa says.
“We’d be delighted to stay if it’s not too much trouble,” Maryanne says.
“Great. That’s settled,” says Tom, and he turns to Maxim. “Now, as your best man, it is incumbent on me to organize your stag night. It’s traditional.”