Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
When it’s time for our first dance as man and wife, I pull her close, loving the way she fits her head against my body. We were made for this, to wrap around each other. I’m certain of it.
While I’m busy marveling over how perfectly we fit together, she whispers the words that break my heart, “I know that you saved my pride out there, and I appreciate that. We can quietly get an annulment after this. No one even has to know you were ever married.”
Fuck that. I don’t plan on letting her go and more than that, I want the whole world to know we’re married. But I don’t want to tip my hand and risk making her run away scared, so I keep quiet.
She sighs softly and puts her head on my chest. “Only a few more hours to go.”
I’m not letting my miracle slip away. Not now. Not ever. But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I spin her around the dance floor, holding her close for every love song until it’s time to cut the cake.
The rest of the wedding festivities pass quickly. It’s obvious to me that while everyone here is for the bride, most of them aren’t close to her. If anything, it seems like most of the guests in attendance are from her company and business network.
It’s only when she’s yawning that I finally insist it’s time for our honeymoon to start. She’s exhausted and clearly needs to rest.
“We have a honeymoon suite booked upstairs,” she whispers. “Come up with me then slip out a back exit later when most of the guests are in their rooms.”
I nod like I’m going along with that when I have no intention of following through. This is our first night as man and wife. I’m staying by her side no matter what.
After a round of hugs and well wishes, I scoop her into my arms and carry her to the elevator while the crowd around us hoots. Contentment washes over me. There’s something about holding her that soothes me.
“Good idea,” she murmurs when the doors slide closed, and we’re alone. “That looked very real. They ate it up.”
I don’t tell her that I don’t give a damn about our audience. There’s only one person in this entire building whose opinion I actually care about and that person is in my arms right now.
“You can stop now,” she says when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
“They could be watching,” I answer because I know it’s the one thing I can say that will let me keep holding her for a moment longer. I’m running out of time. I have to convince her to stay married so I can get her to fall in love with me.
She doesn’t protest, just lets me carry her to our room. When we’re inside, I set her on her feet. She wobbles for a second, and I remember she barely ate. She picked at her food all night.
Before I have a chance to say anything, she crosses the expansive floor to the bar and grabs the bottle of champagne on ice. She sighs softly, “Thank God.”
She uncorks it and guzzles half of it then turns her attention to me. I think she’s going to offer me something to drink, but she says, “Help me get naked.”
My cock surges at the words, my body humming to life. I want nothing more than to take her up against the nearest hard surface. But I don’t think great sex is the way to convince her to stay married.
She frowns. “You zipped me into it, now help me unzip it.”
I cross the room and pull the zipper slowly, letting my fingertips ghost against her skin the way I did earlier when I hated the idea that I was putting her in a wedding dress for another man. Now, I get to be the one to take it off.
I glance at the scars across her body, the same ones I saw earlier. But I don’t acknowledge them. I know what it’s like when people stare and you wish they’d look anywhere but at you. Whatever horrible, awful thing happened, my girl survived. That’s all I need to know.
The dress pools at her feet, and she steps out of it in the lacy little slip that makes my mouth go dry. Does she realize her nipples are hard points? Does she realize the way she shimmies her hips makes me want to drag her onto the king-size bed?
She makes a sigh like she’s grateful for this day to be done then guzzles more of the champagne from the bottle. She pauses and looks up at me, her eyes already starting to look a little glassy. “I never drink. But it’s not been my best day. You get it, don’t you?”