Russian Mobster's Stolen Wife Read Online Free PDF Page A

amusement as the pastor droned on and on about love and respect. He’d met his bride less than two hours ago, and she’d tried to kill him twice. Although that did give him a sort of grudging respect for her, so maybe it was all in the eye of the beholder.
     
    FLYNN FIDGETED AND tried not to be too obvious about watching the exits. Despite what her husband-to-be might think, she wasn’t looking for escape. She was actually a little worried about rescue. Her father’s security detail was bound to have discovered her abandoned car by now.
    She might have welcomed that an hour ago. But now that she had a deal with Grigori to live her life interference free in exchange for her cooperation, she had no interest in returning to her father’s house.
    “…forsaking all others and clinging to one another in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?” The pastor finally got to the yes part.
    “Yes!” She nearly shouted. “I do. Yep. Very willingly in fact.” There. Nobody could argue her participation later. Not after that freakish answer.
    “And you, Grigori Pasternak,” the pastor said. “Do you take Flynn Callaghan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and hold, forsaking all others and clinging to one another in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”
    Grigori was staring at her. Flynn tried to meet his dark gaze, but it was incredibly intense. She was blushing. Great. At least it completed the whole blushing bride image she was trying to project.
    “I do,” Grigori said in his gritty, sexy voice.
    Wait. She wasn’t supposed to think of him as sexy. Except now, she was going to have to kiss him. Shit.
    “You may now kiss the bride,” the pastor said joyfully.
    Behind her, Flynn heard the man named Anson talking to another guy—presumably their missing witness—while she held her breath and waited for the world to end.
    Grigori cupped her cheeks and leaned down. She had expected to feel repulsed, but there was nothing but gentleness in his touch. He smelled amazing. How was that even possible after their crazy night? But he did. She inhaled in sharp surprise and got a stronger whiff of spicy male musk and sandalwood.
    He placed his lips on hers, and the kiss seared her on the inside. She couldn’t help it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair as their mouths meshed together and he loved her almost tenderly with his mouth.
    Then it was over, and Flynn was left with weak knees and stars in her eyes. What. The. Hell?
    “Oh you two are just the most beautiful couple!” The pastor seemed bizarrely happy, given the weird circumstances of their hurried wedding.
    “Thank you.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    The witnesses came forward and signed the marriage certificate with a flourish. They were bickering back and forth in choppy Russian, their dialect so muddled that she couldn’t really make out much of what they were saying.
    “Your turn to sign.” Grigori handed her the pen.
    Taking a deep breath, Flynn put her signature to the document, sealing her fate and making her basically a criminal in her father’s eyes.
    The pastor had just taken another breath to speak when his eyes opened wide and he began opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He was facing the front doors of the church, the opposite direction that she and Grigori were facing. It took less than a millisecond for Grigori to clue in to what was happening.
    He grabbed Flynn and ducked left behind the pews just as the first shots were fired. She grunted in pain as her shoulder hit the hard wood floor. She rolled, and Grigori lunged for her.
    “Don’t be stupid,” she told him. “I’m not running away from you. There’s an exit over here. Let’s try to get out through there!”
    Grigori nodded then glanced around. “Anson, Igor! Where are you?” he called in Russian.
    “Over here, boss,” came Anson’s voice. “There are six of them,