from what Ilya could tell. His late grandfather had been a charismatic and driven man who always had an eye to the future and to expansion. He had lived, laughed and loved hard. On the flip side, Jim Carter had been quieter, withdrawn even, and his reluctance to embrace change had set Carter Air back in many ways. While his work ethic had never been in question, he’d lacked the vision and the willingness to expand and adapt to new horizons the way Eduard had. Their very differences had been what had made them such a great team until they’d fallen out over his grandmother and become enemies.
Yasmin, it seemed, had her own way of doing things with a liberal dose of her late grandfather’s caution sprinkled in. Ilya knew one thing for certain—she was a damn fine pilot. He’d seen her in her vintage Ryan PT-22 Recruit at airshows and she’d taken his breath away. The Ryan had a reputation as an unforgiving aircraft but she handled hers as if it was a simply an extension of herself. Which made her an intriguing package, indeed, and begged the question: How many more layers would he uncover as he got to know his unconventional bride?
Ilya leaned over and murmured in Yasmin’s ear, “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”
Yasmin nodded, trying to ignore the frisson of awareness that tracked down the side of her neck as he spoke.
“Everyone except you,” he added dryly.
“I’m fine,” Yasmin insisted even as she clenched a fist in her lap.
She might be fine, but she hated being the center of attention like this. As if she was on display for approval by every member of his family. His cousins seemed nice enough, but she sensed a lot of confusion and perhaps even some veiled hostility from some of their parents’ generation. And then there were the questions—like, where were her parents? Didn’t they approve of her marriage?
Truth be told, she hadn’t even been able to get hold of them to let them know about the wedding. They were somewhere in the wilds of South America the last she’d heard—chasing whatever dream they’d come up with this time. A traditional life filled with predictable choices was definitely not for them. Who knew? Maybe they would have approved of her adventurous approach to marriage, although she doubted it. Her father had tried to fit in to the mold her grandfather had cast for him but the two men had never been close, and in the end her father had left Carter Air, following his dreams with the woman he fell in love with and only returning long enough to leave his daughter in his father’s care so she’d have stability and regular schooling.
She was grateful to her parents that they’d done that for her, even if her granddad had not always been the easiest man to live with. The transient life was definitely not her thing. She was more like the old man than she liked to admit—needing order, consistency, control. All of which had made today very hard to handle.
Ilya interrupted her thoughts. “Let’s get out of here.”
She turned to face her husband. “Can we do that?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s our wedding day. We can do whatever the hell we want, can’t we?”
He held out a hand and she took it. His fingers closed around hers and he gently tugged her to her feet. Was this when their marriage would truly begin? In the honeymoon suite upstairs overlooking the marina and Puget Sound? Her stomach tightened into a knot of anxiety. As powerful as her attraction to him was, she knew she wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t ready for him.
They managed to slip through one of the French doors to the patio outside. The earlier rain had passed, leaving the evening air damp and cold, heavy with the scent of woodsmoke. Ilya hastened to drape his jacket around Yasmin’s shoulders again. She was grateful for the warmth as she followed him across the patio to another door that led to the hotel’s main foyer.
“You know your way around,” she observed. “It was all I could do today to negotiate my way from my room to the wedding.”
He flashed her a smile. “You probably had other things on your mind.”
Yasmin tried to ignore the way his smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. It made him look even more impossibly handsome and made her wonder anew just how they were going to approach this first night together. She doubted she would have been as nervous had her husband been anyone other than the man standing before her now.
She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“Let’s go do this, then,” she said with all the enthusiasm of an unrestrained wing walker heading into a double barrel roll.
Ilya laughed. “You don’t need to sound quite so keen,” he commented, as they headed to the elevators.
“I’m sorry,” she said, blushing furiously. “I’ve never done this before. I’m not quite sure what the protocol is.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her, his voice deep and even. “It’s been a difficult day. Certainly not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator.
“Not you, that’s for sure. Not that I’m complaining,” he added hastily.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting you, either, if that’s any consolation.”
“Yeah, I think that was pretty obvious by your reaction,” he teased.
Yasmin felt her lips tweak into a smile. It was the first genuine moment of humor she’d appreciated all day.
“You have a beautiful smile,” Ilya commented as the doors swished open and they stepped out on her floor.
Their floor, she reminded herself. And just like that, the butterflies were back in her stomach and commencing an aerobatic maneuver. She suddenly wished there had been some kind of handbook issued explaining what happened next. Her smile died as the little voice in the back of her head told her she was an idiot. It was their wedding night. What did she think would happen next?
They reached the door to the honeymoon suite and Ilya produced a keycard from his pocket.
“My cases were brought up here during the reception,” he said as they walked inside the beautifully appointed room. “I told them not to unpack.”
“Not to unpack?” Yasmin repeated. “Aren’t we supposed to be honeymooning here?”
“Did you particularly want to? I’m happy to stay if that’s what you prefer but we have other options. We could disappear to Hawaii or even hide out at my home overlooking Ojai. The choice is yours.”
Yasmin considered his words carefully. As much as she loved Washington, she felt like a fish out of water here with Ilya. Perhaps if she was back in California, in more familiar surroundings, this unusual marriage of theirs might begin to feel more usual.
She looked around the sumptuous suite where she’d felt like an outsider from the moment she’d arrived. She wasn’t used to this world of wealth and glamour.
“No,” she answered simply. “I don’t want to stay here.”
“So which is it to be? Hawaii or back to my place?”
