To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(88)
“What do you offer Yavi as his wife?”
This was unrehearsed, so Graciella spoke her heart. “I offer him my love and devotion, my wisdom, laughter, companionship, and physical comfort. My loyalty and my service. Forever.”
Volkan smiled. “Good, my daughter.” He turned back to Yavi. “Do you, Yavi, wish to claim Graciella Stovy as your wife?”
“I do. With all my heart.”
“By my power and authority as a priest of Tejeshwar, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your bond be secure, your love burn strong, and your home flourish and prosper all the days of your lives.”
“May it be so.” Yavi brought her hands to his lips for a kiss.
“Yes, may it be so,” she repeated softly, not sure what her response was supposed to be.
Volkan raised his voice to address the assembled crowd. “I present to you our Lord Emperor, Yavi of the Zulfikars, and his Empress wife, Graciella Stovy.”
The monks bowed their heads as Yavi swept her into his arms for a kiss. Graciella clung to his strong neck and kissed him back with all her might, hardly believing this moment had finally arrived, that her long-held dream of becoming his wife had come true.
They were escorted ahead of the assembly of monks to a large dining hall and seated on cushions at the head table with Volkan, Jiandra, Yajna, and Rafe at their sides. Servants brought out a simple but delicious meal of lentils, flatbread, and herbed rice. A light, fruity red wine was served in modest wooden cups, and platters of fresh fruit were laid out as well, laden with apricots, apples, and figs from the monastery orchard.
To her delight, Yavi never stopped touching her as they enjoyed the food and the wine, hugging her waist, nuzzling her ear. Toward the end of the meal, he pulled her close. “I love you, my beautiful wife,” he whispered, his warm breath prickling her skin.
Graciella stroked his jaw. “I love you too, my handsome husband.”
Yavi winked at her before rising from his seat, and the dining hall fell silent. He spoke in Nandalan, then translated it to Villeleian. “My family and friends, I thank you for your well-wishes on this, my wedding day, and the day of my joining to this beautiful, valiant woman at my side.”
Graciella smiled up at him, her heart pounding.
He held her gaze a moment before turning back to his audience. “It is time for us to take our leave for the evening. Please, enjoy the rest of your dinner. We bid you goodnight.”
The dinner guests rose to their feet, bowing to Yavi as he led Graciella out of the dining hall. Once she and Yavi were outside in the cold air, he squeezed her in close to his side and pulled her along with him to their sleeping quarters. They hurried through the garden and into the stone building, then down the long hallway to their door. Yavi pushed it open with his foot and scooped her into his arms to carry her inside.
He set her down, latched the door, and led her to the fireplace. He stoked the fire with the poker, stirring up the flames, then set the poker aside to rub her small hands between his larger ones, warming them.
She shivered, more with anticipation than with cold. “Do you have the bride oil?”
He looked around the room. “They said they were delivering it here this evening.” He went to retrieve a small burlap sack tied with strings from the table at the side of the bed. He opened the bag to reveal a rose-colored bottle, then pulled the cork and sniffed it. He brought it over for her to smell as well.
She caught the scent of balsam and jasmine. “Mm.”
He re-corked it, slipped it into the pocket of his robe, and bent his head to kiss her lips gently. “Are you tired, Sheir-zin?” he asked, caressing her back.
“No. The soak in the hot spring pool this afternoon plus our nap gave me plenty of energy.”
“Good, because we may not get much sleep tonight.” His silver eyes were mischievous.
She giggled and tiptoed up to wind her arms around his neck. “Fine by me.”
He bent his head to claim her lips in a hungry kiss, then pulled her toward the bed. He set the bottle of bride oil on the bedside table and reached down to untie the belt at her waist. Graciella stood still and allowed him to remove the robe, baring her body to his view. He lay the robe over the back of the chair, gazing at her.
“Sundarra suauf de solil. Beauty that overwhelms my heart.” He cupped her cheek and tasted her lips a moment, then bent down to draw the blankets back on the bed. “Lie down on your stomach for me, Sheir-zin.”
She complied, stretching out on the mattress and turning her head toward him on the pillow, eager to see what he was up to.
He shrugged out of the sleeves of his robe, baring his torso but leaving the robe tied around his waist, then took the bottle of oil and knelt on the bed beside her. He moved some escaped strands of her hair out of the way and drizzled the oil over her back. Then he leaned over her and began to massage her shoulders and neck in his strong, warm hands, the oil instantly warming under his touch.
Graciella closed her eyes, groaning softly at the soothing pleasure of it. As he massaged her back, the oil’s enchanting fragrance filled her senses. The balsam fir and jasmine she’d detected earlier were complimented by other spices, herbs, and florals—there was a hint of sandalwood and patchouli, as well as sage and lavender. His hands worked magic on her back muscles, relaxing and arousing her. He massaged her arms, then returned his hands to her waist, running them smoothly down over her hips. He stopped a moment to coat his palms with more oil, then cupped her buttocks in his hands, massaging them as well. Then his hands smoothed down over the backs of her thighs, kneading and massaging, then lower to massage her calves, ankles and feet.