Doctored Vows - Chapter 15

“I swear to God, if you’re not juggling a gallon of coffee, you’re not welcome.”

I usually love Zoya’s girlie giggles, but this morning, they represent a knife being stabbed into my ears on repeat. I’m hungover, dehydrated, and having a hard time remembering a single thing that occurred after she tricked me out of our suite.

“You won, right? That wasn’t a dream.”

When my question is answered with silence, I carefully crack open my eyes, blink to lubricate them, and then move them in the direction Zoya’s voice projected from.

She’s arrived with gifts, a gigantic mug of coffee, and a wholegrain muffin, but instead of seeking the praise she usually demands when she brings treats, her focus is on the far corner of the room.

I shoot up to a half-seated position too fast for my hungover head when I follow the direction of her gaze. Maksim is seated on the winged-back chair I dumped my bag on not long after checking in.

He looks tired, like his sleep schedule has been as lagging as mine the past two weeks, but he is still incredibly handsome.

“Why are you in my room?” When my hand shoots up to make sure my pounding heart remains in my chest, another crazy fact smacks into me. “And why am I naked?”

“You—”

Maksim cuts Zoya off by slicing his hand through the air. And even more shocking than that is the fact she lets him.

She sinks back like she’s happy for him to take the lead, which he does without hesitation crossing his features. “You vomited.”

“Okay,” I reply, struggling not to cringe. “And that led to me being naked how?”

“You got it on your clothes, so I helped you change them.”

“You helped me change them?” When he nods nonchalantly, I squeal, “You saw me naked? Like naked naked, not the little preview you had in the washroom.”

He smiles in wolfish satisfaction before he dips his chin. “Yes.”

I curse my lack of confidence to hell when I mumble, “And you’re still here?”

Maksim’s smirk does wicked things to my insides when he drags his eyes down my body before he repeats, “Yes.” He returns them to my face. They’re more heated now. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” I answer far too quickly.

“Good.” His reply flips my stomach in a way I’m not anticipating, but it is pushed aside for confusion when he adds, “Because it would have been awkward if you’d changed your mind after we’d made things official.”

Official? What is he talking about? He’s acting as if I couldn’t get rid of him even if I wanted to.

I realize that is precisely what he’s implying when the high-hanging sun streaming through the curtains of my room reflects off a giant rock on my left hand.

“What the hell is that?” I shoot my eyes to Zoya, panting and with a crinkled nose. “You let me get married!” I don’t give her the chance to answer. “You let me get married to a man who hates me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

My breathing announces I’m on the verge of a panic attack even while delighted by Maksim’s comment, so Zoya sets to work on trying to calm me.

“I tried to stop you.” She gives Maksim a sympathetic look before moving closer to my bedside. “But by the time I returned to our suite, you had already decided. You were so determined to go through with it that you organized a late-night visit from a local minister.”

“No. I wouldn’t do that. I went to the foyer for a room key and watched you shake your ass, and then I… I… I…”

When my memories are nothing but black pools of despair, I bring my eyes back to meet with Maksim’s and murmur, “I married you.”

His grin is the most arrogant to date. “You did.”

“Because…?” I know there’s more to this. Strangers don’t marry strangers unless they’re in Vegas, and they wouldn’t tie the knot with someone they don’t like.

Maksim dislikes me so much he walked out when my pants were huddled around my knees and my pussy was exposed.

When I say that to Maksim, he says, “I didn’t⁠—”

“Want to miss out on a big inheritance.”

That didn’t come from Zoya or me. It came from Aleena, who’s entering my room, looking more presentable than the bear-with-a-sore-head guise I’m working.

Maksim’s, Zoya’s, and my eyes snap to her in sync. Maksim appears as confused as Zoya and I do, but he hides it better with an angry scowl.

Aleena takes his narrowed glare in stride like this isn’t the first time she’s been at its mercy. “When I accidentally let slip to Maksim about your excessive student loans, he mentioned an inheritance he’d never see if he didn’t wed. Putting two and two together, I realized how ideal this could be.”

She waves her hand between Maksim and me while saying “this.” “You need money, and Maksim needs a wife to get it. This”—her hand is back between us—“fixes both dilemmas.”

Nothing she says makes any sense. “Zoya just said I had already decided before either of you had returned to our suite.” She nods, unwillingly inching toward the trap I’m laying out for her. “But now you’re saying you helped cook up a scheme that would have me believing marrying a stranger was a good idea?”

“No, that isn’t what happened,” Zoya jumps in. “She… I… I brought you coffee.”

She shoves a takeaway cup into my chest so fast I either grab it or wear it.

I grab it, almost exposing my breasts at the same time.

“Shit. Sorry.”

When Maksim’s low growl rumbles through Zoya’s chest, her mouth falls open as her loved-up eyes shift to Maksim. “You loathe that too?”

She backhands his chest like there won’t be a single consequence for her action. “Aleena is right. You are a perfect match.”

“Z!”

Her eyes are back on me, full of mischief. “What? Don’t act like you can’t feel the sparks. You’ve been panting like a dog in heat since we got here.”

“And you thought he was married, so you should have muzzled my mouth.”

When Maksim bounces his eyes between Zoya and me, his brows crinkling more the longer he stares, she discloses, “The blonde.”

“Slatvena?” Maksim asks, awakening my jealousy. Slatvena’s name rolled off his tongue in a seductive purr, and it has my claws out even without them having a single thing to sink into.

Maksim takes a moment to enjoy the anger burning me alive from the inside out before saying, “She is my assistant.”

The honesty in his tone doesn’t ease my jealousy in the slightest. If anything, it makes it worse. I’ve read many steamy stories about bosses and secretaries.

“She also wasn’t forced to attend yesterday’s festivities. She was there for the same reason every other spectator was.”

“For charity,” I assume.

Maksim laughs. Its rumble has me wanting to gloss over the part where I was drunk when we wed. I’ve never heard a more panty-wetting noise. “She went to enjoy the view.”

Zoya clicks on faster than me. “Oh…”

When she gives me a look that no one over sixteen should be able to read, I mimic her reply but with more shock. “Oh.” With my jealousy contained but my confusion still apparent, I ask, “Then why not marry her?”

With Maksim and Zoya stumped, Aleena jumps back in. “It needs to look authentic.” Her face screws up like she sucked a lemon. “If it doesn’t appear legitimate, the inheritance will be voided.” When she realizes my concern is growing instead of dissipating, she shifts on her feet to face Zoya and then hooks her thumb to the door. “We should probably go. This is a private matter. We don’t want to intrude.”

When Zoya nods in agreement, I glower at her.

Who is this alien, and what did she do with my best friend?

When she leans in to hug me, I hold on tight. “If you leave me now, I’ll disown you for life.”

“He won’t hurt you, Keet,” she breathes into my neck, announcing she understands the catalyst of my worry. It isn’t physical harm I’m afraid of. I am terrified as to what this man could do to my heart. He’s had it in a flutter since the day we met, and I see it worsening now. “He only wants to help you.”

Before I can ask why he would want to do that, she wiggles out of my hold and makes a beeline for the door, hot on Aleena’s tail.

I’d take off after them if I weren’t naked.

I feel Maksim’s eyes on me, and despite the alarm bells sounding in my head, I bring my eyes back to his. His almost sable eyes have lost the icy brutality they held in the washroom. They’re hooded as he awards me a sultry gaze.

“Did we…?”

I’m grateful he can understand me without the rude gestures Zoya forever requires. “No.” I flinch, waiting for the brutal slap my ego is about to get hit with. It never arrives. “Not for a lack of want. You were drunk.” He drags his hand along his jaw, tracing a tremor there. “And possibly drugged.”

“Drugged?”

He drops his hand from his jaw before working it side to side. “I knew Riccardo wouldn’t try anything while Kazimir was with you, so I allowed my security team to continue their operation.”

Riccardo? Kazimir? I have no clue who these people are, but I have more pressing matters to address. “Was I alone with Riccardo long?”

I breathe a little easier when Maksim shakes his head. “As soon as I was alerted of his re-appearance by my security team, I immediately returned to the hotel.” He looks impressed while saying, “When I arrived at your suite, you were in the process of threatening him if he didn’t leave.”

The smile I’m struggling to hide radiates in my tone when I ask, “Arteries or dismembering?” When he arches a brow, seeking further explanation, my smile breaks free. “They’re my go-to threats. Arteries for the men who have no fear of living without their penises. Dismembering for the men who couldn’t think of a more torturous way to live. Sounds like he would be the former.”

“He was.” He stops, pulls an expression I can’t quite read, then asks, “What category do I belong in?”

“Depends,” I reply.

Maksim’s firm jaw reveals he doesn’t like extracting answers from people, but he plays along for my benefit. The more we interact, the less I’m freaking out about waking up married to a man who is practically a stranger. “On what?”

“On how you explain me waking up naked. If we didn’t have… sex, why am I without a stitch of clothing?”

His leer over my stumble of the word “sex” sends the pounding in my skull several inches lower. “You told me you didn’t want your dress to get crushed.” He waves his hand to a beautiful white lace dress hanging on the hook behind the door Zoya and Aleena recently fled through. “So you removed it while I showered, and climbed under the sheets.” He moves so close we breathe as one. “These were held far higher on your chest when I exited the bathroom. I wasn’t granted the slightest peek of your skin.” A scarlet hue creeps across my chest when he traces a figure-eight pattern on my cleavage. “It was for the best. I may have never left if you had added a teasing amount of skin to your numerous wordless begs.”

Wheezy breaths break up my reply. “Symptoms of GHB and Rohypnol absorption can last for several hours. My actions were not my own. If they were, I wouldn’t have woken up married.”

Would you listen to me? I’m acting as if I wouldn’t marry this man if he tossed me half a bone with hardly any meat on it. He’s gorgeous, successful, and staring at me like he’d burn the world to find me if I were out of his reach for even a minute. I’d be insane to act like a little part of me isn’t excited that I’ve finally secured his attention.

I’m just confused as to what caused his sudden backflip. It could be the inheritance Aleena stated earlier, but I’m skeptical. Maksim seemed as surprised as me when she blurted it out, and he’s already immensely wealthy, so why marry a woman he’s pushed away as often as he’s pulled in for a bit of extra coin?

He could end up worse off when he learns my debt isn’t chump change. I am hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hole, and the shame associated with not wanting to admit that to anyone, much less a man I’ve had a fascination about since the moment we met, has me blurting out, “I think we should organize an annulment.”

Maksim recoils as if I slapped him across the face. “No.” The swiftness of his denial is shocking, but his quick exodus from the bed is more devastating than alarming. “What’s done is done, and it is too late to change it.”

“You honestly can’t want to go through with this. I’m a stranger. A fucking mess.” When none of my concerns cause a single snippet of worry to flare through his eyes, I give honesty a whirl. “I am up to my eyeballs in debt.”

“Not anymore, you’re not.” He misses my O-formed mouth since he spins to gather his crumpled suit jacket from the back of the chair. “Your credit cards were paid in full this morning, and your student loans will be handled first thing Monday.” I wonder just how much I shared with this man last night when he adds, “The other matter will take a little longer to sort out, but I’m hopeful it will be finalized as soon as possible.”

“Your generosity is appreciated, but I can’t accept it.”

He puts on a dark pinstriped jacket that matches his pants and then spins to face me, fiddling with the lapels on the way. “Why?” His expression is deadpanned, like he can’t understand my apprehension.

“Because…” It takes me a minute to sort through the slosh in my head to find anything decent. “Because this isn’t how negotiations work. Even in an arranged marriage, both parties are supposed to benefit from the agreement. It isn’t meant to be one-sided.”

“Then there isn’t an issue, because our arrangement”—he snarls his last word—“isn’t one-sided.”

“How isn’t it one-sided? I get my loans wiped, and you get⁠—”

“You,” Maksim interrupts, his tone as stern as the firm line of his lips. “I get you.”

I can’t respond to that. What woman in their right mind could? He just placed me onto a pedestal so high I’m not sure I will ever get back down.

Although I can now blame some of my dizziness on altitude sickness, not even the heights of Mt. Everest could have me forgetting my obligations.

“My grandparents live in Myasnikov. I can’t leave them, and they’re not well enough to travel.”

The tears I’m struggling to hold back come close to falling when Maksim replies, “I know, and they won’t need to go anywhere. I will make arrangements to work out of Myasnikov this morning.”

“You would do that for me?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Shock does that to you. It has you speaking without fear of repercussions—and waking up married to a stranger.

I’d rather Maksim vocalize his decision than use a gesture, but I am still delighted when he nods. “It was part of the terms we negotiated last night.”

It hurts to be reminded that our marriage is a sham for benefits, but I hide my disappointment well. “What other terms did we agree to?”

“We wrote them down.” He pulls a sheet of paper out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket and hands it to me. “Your terms are written in pen at the top. Mine is in pencil at the bottom.”

My heart whacks my chest when I open the folded-up piece of paper. My terms are lengthy but not overly demanding after remembering this is an arranged marriage. They’re more necessities of life than dramatic diva demands, but Maksim’s minimal requests make them seem obsessive.

Well, I shouldn’t really say requests since he only has one.

He wants us to share the same bed every night.

The surge in my pulse thuds in my voice when I ask the motive behind his demand.

Cockiness is the first emotion he expresses.

It is quickly changed for deceit.

“We need our marriage to appear legitimate.” His eyes ping-pong between mine for a handful of seconds before he says, “I will organize someone to move your things to my suite by this afternoon.”

He waits for me to nod before he farewells me with an awkward forehead kiss, and then he heads for the door.

Just before he exits, he twists back to face me. “Riccardo’s drug of choice was Ketamine.” My pulse races through my body so fast I almost miss what he says next.

“So although your actions were not your own for the first hour or two of our exchange, you were alert and responsive for several hours before you became my wife.”

His smirk is more confident than arrogant. “You said last night was the first time your heart has won. Perhaps your lack of memories this morning is your head’s way of fighting back.”

He waits until I read the message the menacing glint in his eyes is relaying—that he has no intention of going down without a fight—before he finalizes his exit.

Half a second later, Zoya pops her head into the room. “How dead am I?”

I purse my lips before answering, “Critical enough that I don’t think even I can save you.”