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"Malyshka. Are you going to give this to me?"

The little breeze that had been flirting with her hair there on the balcony went still. The insects below in the gardens sounded more like music than an annoying drone. She nodded slowly, because she couldn't speak. She couldn't bring herself to ruin that perfect moment. She hadn't had a lot of perfect moments in her life and this was number one. The best.

His slow smile turned her heart over. Maybe that moment was even better. He kissed her wrist. So gently. A caress that she felt all the way to her toes.

"Do I get Casimir? Not Tomasso?"

"I'll change at the church."

"Church?" she echoed, because she couldn't imagine that they could walk into a church and get married. He'd said "priest" and that went with a church, but perhaps he was unaware that people were in them even during the day and they couldn't very well get married in a small village and not have the news leak out.

"Trust me. Our wedding will be beautiful. We need to find you a dress."

"This is Italy. One-of-a-kind wedding dresses. It isn't like we can walk into a store and find a gown hanging."

"You never know until you try, golubushka," he said.

They found the dress in the third shop they walked into: Sophie Rigoli, a very famous Italian designer. Lissa hadn't wanted to go into the shop because the gowns were beautiful beyond description, terribly expensive and one of a kind. Very original. It wasn't like they could walk in and have one made in a day. She went because Casimir was so insistent and there was something in her that compelled her to give him whatever he wanted.

He'd planned their wedding. He bought her a ring. He intended to go with her to get the Sorbacovs. Most importantly, he had her back when her uncle and Arturo had broken her heart and turned her world upside down.

The shop was small, and she stayed back, near the door, while Casimir did the talking, explaining what they needed. To Lissa's shock, the little Italian woman was practicing the dying art of traditional bobbin lace. She found herself moving forward, fascinated by the way the woman's hands moved swift and sure when she already had at least nine bobbins hanging from the pattern she was creating, twisting the thread in the labor intensive and beautiful way rarely seen.

The woman's eyes went to Lissa while Casimir talked, assessing her figure. A smile broke out and she nodded. "We had a dress made that couldn't be used. The bride ran off. A big scandal. Her parents were embarrassed. Sophie's beautiful creation sits here, but the dress could have been made for you. Would you like to see it?"

Lissa thought it was rather interesting that the bride had fled before her wedding and Lissa and Casimir were marrying in secret. She was absolutely certain the dress would be perfect, and more, it would fit as if it had been made for her. There was something beautiful and very right about finding the dress.

The shopkeeper put down her bobbins and led her to a small changing area in the back and brought out a dress. Lissa's breath caught in her throat. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. The exquisite ivory wedding dress was definitely a Sophie Rigoli. The slip gown was heavily beaded with jewels. The neckline plunged low and the back was an illusion of jewels made of the traditional bobbin lace, with sheer fabric from neck to the waist. The natural waistline held more beadwork done with jewels. Silk organza ruffles accented the skirt and train.

Lissa stared at herself in the mirror. The dress clung to her every curve, emphasized her small waist and lush breasts. The shopkeeper brought out a veil with the same sheer material and illusion of jewels done in the bobbin lace. The veil went from her head to the floor, to add to the beauty of the train. She ran her hand down the dress, unable to believe she was actually standing there, looking at herself in the mirror in something so beautiful.

"I want this," she breathed. Still, it had to cost a fortune.

"Your gentleman said anything you wanted. Cost did not matter. I have the silk stockings and garter to go with it."

She also had ivory lace underwear and a pair of silver strappy heels. There was a beautiful silver necklace and drop earrings that looked perfect with the plunging neckline. Lissa didn't ask the price. She knew if she did, she would never allow Casimir to pay for it all. She told herself after she sold the chandeliers to the other hotels she would have the money to pay him back, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Her day. Her only day. She just hoped Casimir thought the dress and veil would be worth the money as well when he saw them on her.

He didn't raise an eyebrow when he paid, laughing and talking with the shopkeeper, oozing charm in the way he did. With the dress inside a garment bag, they drove the forty minutes to the city and straight to a Russian Orthodox church. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. The church appeared deserted, and they went around the building, through a garden to a side entrance. Casimir knocked twice and waited. The heavy door was unlocked, and Casimir took her hand and drew her inside.

The small room where they stood was unlit, and a man in robes stood in the shadows. Lissa couldn't make out his face.

"We need a room to get ready," Casimir said.

The priest closed and locked the door and then gestured for them to follow him.

"Do you have the paperwork?" Casimir asked.

The priest nodded, paused by a door, opened it and indicated for Lissa to go in. She did, and Casimir followed her. The priest shut the door, leaving them alone.

"It's bad luck to see me before the wedding," she said.

He smiled at her. Happy. She loved his smile. "This is our wedding. Part of it. A ritual. The groom helping the bride into her dress. The bride helping the groom with his tie."

She nodded, shocked that his answer made her even happier.

He hung up the garment bags. "I'm going to get rid of Tomasso. We won't need him again until tomorrow. I'll get dressed and help you into your dress." His hands framed her face. "Thank you for this, Giacinta, it means the world to me that you'd trust me this much."

She found her eyes burning again. He had no idea how much she felt for him. The emotion nearly overwhelmed her. She knew she was living in the moment, but she also knew this might be all they ever had together and that made their decision all the more important.

While Casimir was in the small bathroom, she carefully did her hair in an artfully messy cascade that was pulled back from her face and twisted into a loose knot at the back of her head to allow her back to show in the dress. The drop earrings would show off the sheer fabric at her shoulders and the long necklace would accent the plunging neckline. She had on the stockings and heels and had stepped into her wedding gown when the door opened and Casimir emerged.

He looked... gorgeous. So handsome he took her breath away. He wore a black suit that fit him as if it had been made for him. She was certain it had been. His shoulders were wide and his body made for such a beautiful cut of jacket. His gaze jumped to her carefully made-up face, makeup with an edge toward drama but still muted, looking almost barely there.

Casimir looked at her as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Stark love was so raw on his face, stamped into his masculine features, every line, and his eyes, that incredible, slashing silver held the same intense desire - so much so that the absolute intensity brought on a flutter in the region of her heart. "Baby," she breathed, because that was all she could do. All she could say.

He swirled his finger, indicating for her to turn as she drew up the gown, the sheer lace fabric settling over her shoulders. He did up the long row of jeweled buttons up the center of her back, adding to the mystique the jeweled illusion back created.

He bent and kissed the side of her neck, his breath warm. "Krasavisa." He whispered the word against the skin behind her ear. "Ya lyublyu tebya."

She knew the first word was "beautiful" and the second phrase was "I love you." They both sounded amazing in his native language.

He turned her to face him, his hands gentle on her arms. When she was fully facing him, only a whisper away, he traced the plun

ging line of her gown in the long vee, over the curve of one breast, down to where the vee came together at her waist and back up over the curve of the other. "Perfect. You're perfect."

She found herself staring into his eyes. This man belonged to her. He was dangerous, yes, but he was also unexpectedly romantic. It meant something to him that she had agreed to dress in a wedding gown for him. She still couldn't believe that he had planned the entire event knowing there was a good chance she might not agree. She liked that he was romantic and that he'd showed that to her now. She needed it. She needed to know she was important to him.

Because she couldn't talk, couldn't tell him what he meant to her, she reached up to knot his tie. Her hands trembled. Even in heels she was quite a bit shorter than he was and she had to reach to get his tie straight.


Tags: Christine Feehan Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart Romance