“How many of you are there?”
“Four. My oldest brother, Maxim, has been engaged to Alisa for several years now. It’s an arranged match. They’ve only met a few times, and I’ve never seen her. I didn’t know what she looked like.”
Not entirely true. Maxim has shown me pictures of Alisa, who also has long brown hair and big brown eyes. If I’d thought about it for half a second I probably could have figured out that any resemblance was a passing one, but who else would be standing in Alisa’s closet and wearing her clothes? I just wanted to get out of there.
“What about the middle brothers?” she asks thoughtfully.
“They’re twins, and they’re undoubtedly hatching their own plans to get married as soon as humanly possible.”
“So what’s the deal, here? You want me to marry you so you can win the prize, then we get divorced?”
“Something like that.” I’ll scare her if I tell her that there will be no divorce. In the Orlov family, love is possession—and I have no intention of letting her go.
4
SIERRA
I cannot be considering this. My brain is screamingno, but my mouth has a mind of its own. “I assume there’s money involved?”
Nik’s mouth quirks up at the corner. Not a smile. Not even close to one. A mirthless twist to his sensual lips, nothing more. “Yeah.”
“A lot of money?” I let my gaze skim down his arm to the watch on his wrist, noticing the quality fabric and the custom tailoring now that my amygdala isn’t screaming at me to run for safety. Short of throwing myself from a moving vehicle into the empty desert, there’s nowhere for me to flee.
“Depends on your definition of ‘a lot.’”
“I want a million dollars to marry you. Cash.” It’s a crazy amount of money to ask for. What am I even going to do with it all? Can’t spend it, can’t deposit it, really don’t want to pay taxes on it. This is only a fantasy, though. A daydream to pass the time while I figure out how to escape.
“I’ll pay you ten million, but you have to stay married to me long enough to claim the prize,” he says. There’s a trace of amusement in his tone. Almost teasing.
“Deal.”
“Great. Let’s get to Vegas and get hitched.” Nik floors it. Highway signs flash by. Exhausted from the ordeal of being kidnapped, I lean my head against the window and drift off.
“Sierra.”
I jerk awake, disoriented.
“We’re here,” says a man’s voice, and for one bleary second I think,Dad?But that isn’t possible. He died when I was in high school.
“Where?” I ask, taking in the low-slung buildings around us and the mountains in the distance. Not much in the way of greenery. This isn’t Los Angeles.
“Vegas,” he says. It all comes rushing back. Trying on Alisa Morozov’s clothes. Being kidnapped. Agreeing to marry a stranger for ten million dollars. I sit up so fast we bonk heads.
“Ow.” I rub my temple.
“The chapel is right there. Bring your ID.”
“Wait. I can’t get married in this.” I gesture to the red silk gown that doesn’t zip all the way up. “I’m a mess. I have potato chip breath.”
His stern, sensual mouth pulls up at the corners. “There will be plenty of time for that later. I need this done.”
“Because the timestamp on the wedding certificate matters that much.” My disbelief must be evident. A muscle feathers in Nik’s jaw.
“Fine. I’ll take you to my place where you can clean up, but we’re coming right back.”
“I need a proper dress. We need rings.”
“All of that is superfluous. Do you want that ten million dollars or not?” He strides around the car and angrily slams into the driver’s seat. The white sedan with the cleaning service markings on the side peels out into traffic. Tension radiates between us.