Page 93 of Tangled Roses
His lips crash against mine and he leaves me in doubt about my decision. Sometimes fate intervenes and good comes from adversity. It delivers you everything you’ve ever wanted in the unlikeliest of packages.
Did I ever imagine marrying a man like Arman Romanov? Not in a million years, but now he’s here I wouldn’t change a thing because it brought me – us together and that’s all that matters now.
EPILOGUE
ANA
The stench of alcohol and money hits me as I head inside the bar. Soft music plays through hidden speakers and loud laughter punctuates the air. It’s busy – crowded even, and as I push through the suited bodies, I have only one destination in mind.
The bar rises up before me like a mirage. It’s definitely an unusual sight for me and one that fills my heart with delight.
I am free.
It certainly feels like that as I step up to the polished wooden counter, just because I can.
This is the first time I’ve traveled out of Russia unguarded and I owe it all the fact I’m in disguise.
Titus attempted to assign a guard to me, but I fiercely argued against it.
It would be too obvious and I’m happy to say, I got my wish.
I am alone and free and determined to make the most of it.
I arrived this morning on the overnight flight from Moscow and I’m happy to say my papers checked out perfectly. It pays to be a Romanov because intrigue is something we excel at and my new name, Annabelle Starling, checks out with a history that would pass the most stringent investigation.
“What can I get you?” The bartender smiles as I slide onto a stool and I confidently ask for a vodka martini.
I always knew this would be the first thing I’d do if I ever got the chance. To make my own choices and not consider any of the consequences. In Russia there are always consequences. I must honor our family name and play the dutiful daughter and sister to one of the most powerful families in the country.
Not here. Definitely not here and tonight I’m going to go wild just because I can.
“Can I get you anything else?” The guy smiles, a cheeky glint in his eye, and I smile flirtatiously.
“Another one.” I knock back the first as he raises his eyes.
“It must be guy.”
“Wrong.” I lean on the bar and smile sweetly, my freshly dyed blonde hair tumbling forward, confusing me for a moment.
“It’s called freedom.”
“From a guy?” He winks cheekily, causing me to smile.
“Why do you assume it’s a guy?”
“Because it always is.”
He leans on the bar, his face mere inches from mine, and stares into my eyes with a smoldering promise. He is not easy to ignore. His curly brown hair is messy on top of his head and his brown eyes twinkle with seduction. He is wearing a twisted, braided bracelet on one wrist and a matching one around his neck. His black t-shirt accentuates his muscles and his biceps are decorated with an interesting tattoo.
“What if I told you it’s to celebrate?” I say, flirting with him like crazy.
“A birthday, divorce perhaps, or a new job?”
“A new life.” I raise the glass he set down before me and sip from the small straw, staring into his eyes as he stares deep into my eyes.
“Whiskey, neat.”
An irritable growl diverts his attention and I swing my gaze to the right.