True Love with the Football Billionaire Groom (Sweet, Christian Football Bad Boy Romance Series Book 2)

by Ellie Hall

  With only a few more days until the end of his time in the program, they traveled to the airport. However, instead of taking a commercial flight to Blancbourg, a matte black private plane waited on the tarmac.

  “Is this yours?” Katerina asked, wide-eyed.

  “No. You can thank Declan for the lift. I think he originally got it for his aunt, but she declined the gift. Go figure. He’s a flashy kind of guy when it comes to his wealth.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  “I have a substantial savings, an apartment in Boston and LA, but other than that I support a wolf rescue and habitat.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “And several other charities related to animals.”

  He seemed surprisingly frugal. Perhaps it was related to his upbringing, though she imagined that it would be just as easy for someone who grew up without much to go to an extreme in the other direction of wretched excess—like the matte black private plane.

  They boarded the airplane. The interior was lined with cream-colored padding and gold details. The seats were leather and unlike anything she’d sat on in a plane, train, or car. It was like resting on a cloud.

  “Before we take off, would you like anything to drink?” a woman wearing a cream-colored suit and green scarf asked.

  “I’ll have water, please.”

  “For you, sir?” she asked Connor.

  “Same.” He turned back to Katerina. “We fly in style. We drink water.” He chuckled. “I figured it would be more comfortable after everything that happened.”

  “This must cost a fortune.”

  “I just have to pay for fuel.”

  “Like I said.” It couldn’t be cheap.

  Connor smirked.

  She assumed football players were paid well, but would’ve happily flown coach in a commercial plane. She was itching to get back home and most importantly figure out what was going on with the finances at Blancbourg.

  After watching a movie, Katerina took a nap, assuming they’d land around the time when she woke up. However, when her eyes blinked open the sun had set. Connor had also dozed off.

  She admired his sloping nose, the curve of his cheekbones, and the lips that had kissed her so many times.

  As though sensing that she was up, he roused and stretched his arms overhead. She grinned at the sight of the cut cords of muscles that ran from his triceps down to his forearms. Her heart, steady now, did a different kind of thump, bump than it had been doing before she’d had the procedure.

  “Are we almost there?” Her voice was husky from sleep.

  Connor dipped his head and kissed her gently.

  “How do you say almost in Russian?”

  Still groggy from the flight she told him. A few minutes later as the plane started to descend, she asked, “Why do you ask?”

  “Welcome home,” he said, pointing out the window.

  Flying in and out of Concordia wasn’t as common as traveling by rail, but they were in a private plane. However, the scenery was different even in the dark.

  “Connor, where are we?” she asked.

  “St. Petersburg.”

  Katerina wasn’t sure she heard him right. “St. Petersburg, Russia?”

  As the plane lowered, there was no mistaking the iconic buildings, the churches, and museums.

  She gasped. “What are we doing here?”

  “You missed dancing and your family. I wanted to take you home.”

  She wrapped her arms around him because it was so unbelievably thoughtful, but the truth was she felt torn. She’d had to fight her way out of the country because her parents didn’t want her to leave. How would they receive her upon her return? With open arms or cold shoulders?

  A car brought them to the Four Seasons where Connor informed her that they’d stay for a couple of nights before traveling to the small town where she grew up.

  She’d been to St. Petersburg countless times but never had she experienced such luxury. For once, she was happy to be there instead of enduring whatever training, show, or performance she had on her schedule.

  The next morning, the air felt different. Not the humidity of North Carolina and not the clarity of Concordia. Then she remembered where she was.

  Swept into hearing her native language, smelling the city smells, and eating blini and drinking spiced tea, she couldn’t stop gushing, telling Connor everything and feeling alive in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

  Her heart felt full but not painful. It felt buoyant, not burdened. It was because this incredible man had brought her back to life. Brought her home...and then brought her to the ballet.

  She’d only ever been to the Mariinsky Theater on the talent side of the curtain. When they entered the venerated and stately building, captured by the grandeur of it all, she felt like a little girl all over again. The lights, the balconies, and the gilded woodwork were magnificent. They had two prime tickets for Giselle. Katerina watched with awe and reverence. Afterward, she couldn’t stop talking about the details and skills the dancers possessed.

  “So, you’re happy?” Connor asked as they walked hand in hand along the canal on the way to dinner.

  “This is much better than finding googly eyes in my office.”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “That’s because it’s not a prank.”

  “So what does this mean?” she asked.

  “This means I’m happy,” he replied.

  “No, I mean this.” She waved her hand between them.

  “This means I proved that I’m not a caveman.”

  “This means that you passed the program.” She said, but she knew there was more to them than that. However, she didn’t want to think about how things would change when they returned to Concordia in a few days’ time. She didn’t want to think about closing the school. About what she’d do next. There was change happening and it had started with her heart, led her to Connor, back home, and then where?

  The next day, they drove about forty kilometers west out of the city and along the coast of the Gulf of Finland, bordering Russian shores.

  Nerves danced in Katerina’s belly, but they didn’t perform a graceful ballet. It was more of a stomp-march. The heavy feeling persisted as she worried about seeing her parents again.

  As the car rumbled up the rock-strewn road, a stocky figure stood in front of the white house with chipped paint. Years of harsh winter weather gusting off the Gulf had given it a beating. A second figure joined the first. Her parents.

  Connor brought the car to a stop.

  Katerina’s hand rested on the door handle. “Did you feel like this when we arrived at the cabin?” she asked, gazing through the windshield.

  She didn’t have to explain. The look on his face told her that he knew what she meant. It was nervous bubbles, trepidation, and a little bit like she was eighteen all over again.

  “I did.” He let out a sigh. “But I came out the other side better. Stronger. So will you.”

  Connor got out first, walked around to the passenger side, and helped Katerina out. They walked hand in hand to greet her parents. She translated, but enough was conveyed in their expressions for anyone to understand. Relief and wariness. Joy and anger.

  The pair were invited inside for tea and it felt oddly formal, stiff, but not like the etiquette that she taught. It was almost like Katerina had never lived there. It was as if she was a foreigner.

  Connor remained a warm and friendly but protective presence. It was like he could sense she wasn’t entirely comfortable.

  After tea was served, she told her parents what she’d been doing. When her aunt and uncle came up—Nadia’s parents—bitter words were exchanged. They’d always been jealous of the pair for finding their way out of poverty and making a new life abroad. Not that anyone needed to leave in order to be successful. Katerina had the funny thought that some people were meant to spread their wings and fly while others were meant to remain in the nest. She and Connor were fliers, survivors, success storie
s in their own ways.

  The front door opened. The man standing in its frame had remained in the nest and by the curl of his lip and the low line of his brow, he hadn’t changed a bit. In a few long strides, Ivan crossed the room and lifted Katerina out of the chair like she was a sack of grain. He exclaimed in Russian that she was as beautiful as ever. But he was a brute. The brute her parents had always wanted her to marry.

  Ivan cast a dark look at Connor who’d gotten to his feet. He stood several inches taller than Ivan, but they were both muscular and well built—the former from football and the latter from ballet and manual labor. Connor extended his hand. “Connor Wolfe, nice to meet you.”

  Ivan tipped his chin up slightly and scoffed. He did not offer his hand to shake. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

  Of course, Connor understood none of it since Ivan spoke Russian.

  Katerina pressed her shoulders back. “No, you don’t. But that’s because I am not a thing to be bartered between families.”

  “No, you’re a silly girl who leaves her family.” Ivan looked down at her.

  “I’m a woman from a silly family who wanted me to become a famous dancer so they could have more money.”

  Ivan clenched his fists. “You abandoned them.”

  “I went and got a college education.”

  “They sacrificed everything for you.”

  “I didn’t ask them to do so. They made choices for me before I could make them for myself.” She felt the seams of her life unraveling. Everything she’d worked so hard for was coming apart. She suddenly feared they’d try to keep her there.

  Connor may not have yet gotten a read on the situation, but she had. Her parents still wanted her to marry Ivan because it would benefit their status in the community. Ivan was an ox, a beast, and not someone she’d ever consider spending more than a cordial few minutes with. It wasn’t a surprise he was still single though she knew he made his way through various girlfriends—even back when they were supposedly together as a couple. But she’d been young and naïve and didn’t know better.

  The time she and Connor spent in the woods with no distractions and then the hospital where they were focused on survival had afforded them a closeness and understanding that went beyond words. But she wasn’t sure how to explain the situation. She wished he understood Concordian or the language of hearts.

  Connor’s gaze swept Katerina. “When we were in St. Petersburg, you asked what this means.” He motioned between them. “You taught me to be a gentleman. You taught me to love you.” Then he turned to her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Kuznetsova, we came here because I understand you have certain traditions and expectations. I wanted to formally ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Katerina fell silent. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. Her heart. The one that had almost stopped. That had come back to life thanks to Connor in more ways than one.

  Her mother and father hadn’t understood a word. But she had. She understood every syllable. Every emotion.

  She translated for her parents, told them that Connor Wolfe was a famous football player in America, that he had taken care of her, and how amazing he was.

  The energy in the room shifted. Glasses came out for toasting. Congratulations were said. Ivan was forgotten. Friends and neighbors gathered. The frowns that her mother and father wore changed to smiles as food was prepared for a feast to celebrate. There was music and chatter and laughter. It went from dismal to better than any homecoming she could have imagined.

  When Katerina was finally able to break away from the excitement, she found Connor gazing at the steely water of the Gulf.

  He wrapped his fingers around hers. “I hope that was okay. I want to make you mine.”

  “All you had to do was ask. But not them. Me,” she emphasized.

  “But you’re Miss Manners. I figured it was the right thing to do.”

  “Was that the real reason we came here?” she asked.

  “Part of the reason. I don’t want to steal you away from the places or people you love but with only a few days left, we have to think about the future and how we fit into it.”

  She didn’t want to think about that because she knew it meant more change and there had already been so much. Plus, the experience taught her that change took major effort. Leaving her home for instance. Going to college. Learning the ropes as a headmistress. She was the one who had to make sacrifices, save, and all but sneak away. Instead of thinking of what was next and all the change, she sealed the moment with a kiss because right then was perfect.

  There may as well have been fireworks lighting up the night, sparkling over the water.

  Connor’s lips melted against hers, filling her with a kind of warmth she’d never before felt standing there on the bank, or in the house, or town. He wanted to marry her and it made the kiss that much sweeter. His hands found their way to the pins in her bun and pulled them loose. Then he ran his fingers through her hair.

  She pressed her palms to his broad chest, feeling solid muscle underneath. Then she traveled to his powerful arms, shoulders, and back, drawing him closer.

  The kiss spanned minutes, which may as well have been lifetimes as they knit theirs together—both of them helping the other let go of the past and consider a future together.

  Soon after, Katerina’s mother called her and she went to greet a few more well-wishers. Word had traveled fast.

  As she flitted from one person to the next, an arm suddenly lassoed around her waist, pulling her toward the music to dance. She melted against him, thinking it was Connor until the rancid smell of alcohol and sweat assaulted her nose.

  For one second, her body was on autopilot, dancing with Ivan as she’d done for years. But her senses returned and she pushed him away, but not before he planted a big, sloppy kiss on her lips. She shoved at him, sending him stumbling. She lost her footing and nearly fell as well. His buddies caught him and hefted him back to his feet, encouraging him to go after her.

  She rushed into the house, her heart racing. Memories from the past came back as she fled toward her old bedroom. Ivan’s advances on top of the hubbub was tiring and she had to lay down for a few minutes. She felt better each and every day and wouldn’t have been cleared to fly had the doctor not been confident in her recovery, but she was careful to take it easy. Nonetheless, she felt overwhelmed. Stressed. Confused.

  Her old bedroom had been left exactly the same as when she’d left as though her parents expected her to return to it even though it had been over a decade. They were so stubborn, so hopeful...or was it desperate?

  She’d never had many belongings, but awards for her performances in dance were pinned to the wall. An old pair of ballet slippers were on the table by her bed. The air was stale, so she opened the window for some fresh air and then laid down.

  Laughter and voices floated through the night.

  She caught snatches of her mother talking to someone. “He’s a famous football player and will bring us much wealth once they marry.”

  A familiar female voice said, “What about Ivan? He and Katerina are meant to be together.”

  “The marriage with the American won’t last. I will see to that,” her mother assured the other person.

  “Are you sure?”

  Her mother said, “I will make sure she ends up with your son.”

  Katerina got up, ready to storm out of the room, as motives became clear. Her parents weren’t proud of her accomplishments, her independence, or the life she’d created with the man she loved. No, they were just looking at her to provide a payday just as they always had. All they ever cared about was her notoriety and fame associated with ballet. It seemed nothing had changed only they’d also targeted Connor.

  As she left the room, an envelope caught her eye. It was in her writing and addressed to her. She snatched it up just as she exited.

  Once outside, Katerina searched for her mother, ready to tell her what she really thought when the sound o
f a fist meeting skin split the night. She turned to see Ivan reeling backward after punching Connor who rushed toward him like an angry bull.

  Chapter 12

  Connor

  The team chant pounded in Connor’s ears. It ain’t over ‘til we’ve won. Despite the fact that Katerina and Ivan looked like the perfect pair when they were dancing—he was tall and statuesque and she was petite and made of smooth lines—and were probably meant to be together, he was going to crush Ivan. All he saw was red after the comments the idiot had made.

  A small figure streaked into Connor’s periphery.

  “Wait. Stop. No.” Katerina’s hands were lifted in panic as she tried to interfere.

  He didn’t want to hear any of it. He was going to make Ivan pay.

  “Please,” she said.

  That one word stopped him short.

  “Please, Connor. Not like this. It’s not worth it.” Her eyebrows dipped as she pleaded with him.

  “You’re worth it, Katerina and—” He wouldn’t repeat the vulgar things Ivan had said. He wouldn’t admit how seeing them dancing and then the kiss made him feel. He thought his kiss had been the one to seal things between them, but apparently, Ivan won her back.

  “It was a mistake to come here,” she said, tugging him away.

  “Yeah, that’s clear,” he muttered.

  Where only moments before he’d felt sparks all over when she’d touched him, now there were just cooling embers. He could never un-see that moment between her and Ivan.