The stage is huge, the biggest in Ruskovia and one of the largest in the world.
Gia is doing her world-famous flying illusion, and as usual, I’m overcome with awe and wonder.
Also, maddeningly, I have no idea how it’s done. We’re in the open air, so she doesn’t have any place to attach wires to, not unless there’s a silent helicopter above the clouds.
Actually, she claims not to use wires, and she usually doesn’t lie about how she’s not doing a trick.
I’ll be honest. As this theme park’s owner, I asked the staff to tell me if they see any hint of a wire or another explanation for how Gia does what she does, but so far, they’ve given me zilch. Same is true for Kaz’s hotel staff.
Hey, I don’t mind. Not much anyway.
I figure if my ignorance makes my myodik happy, I can live with that. Of course, if I do figure something out on my own… Well, if all is fair in love and war, all is fair without the war too.
Finishing her last aerobatic maneuver, Gia lands gracefully on the stage next to a spectator who’s acting as the eyes for the rest of the audience. Her raven hair billows dramatically around her, highlighting the pale glow of her face.
She lets the spectator check for wires once more and takes a graceful bow for the larger audience.
The spectators—all one hundred thousand of us—leap to our feet and give Gia the most enthusiastic standing ovation. The applause is thunderous. Like the others, I clap so hard my palms hurt, and even my parents, who sit next to me, give a few grudging claps.
I can’t describe in words how much I love this woman. I fell for her right away. By the time she stole my belt, it was like that Bryan Adams song: I was seeing my unborn children in her eyes… and she was one of those tiger moms to my tiger dad.
When the excitement dies down and the curtain falls, I hurry backstage.
Gia greets me with a passionate kiss. Since our first time together, she’s been completely worry-free when it comes to bodily fluid exchanges with me. In fact, she’s eager for them.
As is usual in her proximity, my cock—or My Royal Hardness as she’s dubbed it—goes fully erect, reacting to her sleek curves. With her porcelain skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and black leather outfit, she reminds me of the sexiest vampire ever, and though I’ve never told her this, I had a major crush on Kate Beckinsale in Underworld.
I readjust myself as best I can. “Another great show.”
She beams at me. “You really think so?”
“Oh, yeah. And the best part is, I could tell my parents had no clue how you did any of it. I’m sure they didn’t like that one bit.”
Her grin turns devious. “You think they’ll order the Ruskovian CIA to find out my secrets?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Also, not a bad idea. Maybe I could do that.
As part of this trip to my motherland, Gia met the king and queen—and didn’t break up with me afterward, which is a miracle on par with the things she does on stage.
My parents aren’t exactly nice people—especially to those they view as beneath them, which is just about everyone.
“I have a surprise for you,” I say. “Come, let me show you.”
Actually, I have two surprises: one huge and one enormous.
She lets me lead her to the room where the first “surprise” said she’d wait.
I open the door with a flourish. “Gia, I want you to meet a Ruskovian national treasure. The great, the amazing… Rasputina.”
Gia’s eyes widen as she takes in the female figure who is dressed similarly to her—not a surprise, really, as Rasputina was a major influence on Gia’s stage persona.
I can’t even imagine how my myodik is feeling right now. Meeting this famous magician for her is like meeting Evel Knievel for me.
“I’m not worthy,” Gia mutters.
“Nonsense,” the other woman says with an infectious smile. “I saw your show. I’m honored to meet you.”
Gia shakes her head. “Mrs. Rasputina, you’re—”
“Please, call me Sasha,” she says.
“Sasha.” Gia looks like she tastes the word and finds it delicious. “Can I get your autograph?”
Sasha gladly obliges, and I watch everything closely because I’ll never forget something Gia said to me once: “If I had to sleep with a woman—gun to the head situation—I’d sleep with Rasputina.”
For that reason, I’ve made triple-sure that there are no guns in my park today. I’m too jealous to have my woman sleep with anyone, even another woman.
“So,” Sasha says. “You know how I do predictions?”
Gia nods. “Yeah. They’re amazing.”
If you ask me, they’re borderline creepy. My mother has spent a fortune and bestowed noble titles on this woman in exchange for her “prophecies,” which, to my knowledge, have somehow come true.
A bolt of lightning seems to shoot from Sasha’s hand into her eyes—a magic trick, obviously.
“You will be together your entire lives,” she says, looking at each of us in turn. “And it will be a joyful union.”
At first, I’m as stunned as Gia is.
Then it hits me.
Rasputina is ruining my enormous surprise—which was supposed to take place at the ballroom in the royal palace, with our dogs playing their adorable roles and all that.
Fuck.
I’ll have to improvise now.
In fact, given the momentousness of this occasion, maybe this will be just as, if not even more, memorable for Gia.
Pulling a playing card case from my pocket, I drop to one knee.
Her expression devilish, Sasha points Gia’s attention my way.
Gia turns and freezes, looking comically stunned. “What is happening?”
“This.” I ceremonially open the card box the way Clarice taught me.
Slowly and majestically, the diamond ring floats out of the box and lands on my palm.
Even though Gia might know how this trick is done, she gasps and clutches her chest.
A good start.
I take the ring between my thumb and index finger. “Gia Hyman, being with you has been the greatest adventure I’ve ever undertaken.” I pause to make sure my voice doesn’t catch in an unmanly fashion. “I’ve climbed Everest. I’ve surfed Cape Fear. I’ve base jumped from Burj Khalifa. But none of those feats compare to just holding your hand.” Gently clasping her wrist, I pull her stage gloves off and hover the ring over her finger. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Gia looks at me, then at the ring, before turning to her idol. “Did you know this would happen?”
Sasha winks, and Gia turns back to me.
“Yes,” she says and jams her finger into the ring. “By Houdini’s balls, yes. Of course I will marry you.”
I leap to my feet and give Gia a proper kiss. Meanwhile, Sasha hums Beyoncé’s “Put a Ring on It.”
“I’m going to be a princess?” Gia asks when we finally disconnect. “A fucking princess? Me?”
“No,” I say with a grin. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already a queen.”
Thank you for participating in Tigger and Gia’s journey!
Looking for more laugh-out-loud romcoms? If you haven’t already, you’ve got to meet the Chortsky family from the Hard Stuff series! Read Vlad’s story in Hard Code, Bella’s story in Hard Ware, and Alex’s story in Hard Byte.
Also, you’ll definitely want to pick up a copy of Femme-Fatale-ish, featuring Blue, one of Holly and Gia’s sextuplet sisters, and a sexy (possible) Russian spy.
Misha Bell is a collaboration between husband-and-wife writing team, Dima Zales and Anna Zaires. When they’re not making you bust a gut as Misha, Dima writes sci-fi and fantasy, and Anna writes dark and contemporary romance. Check out Wall Street Titan by Anna Zaires for more steamy billionaire hotness!
Turn the page to read previews of Femme-Fatale-ish and Wall Street Titan!