“I’m simply pointing out the obvious.”
“That she’s gorgeous?”
“She is.” Anyone could see that.
“And Katie’s a pale second?”
Alex took another swig.
Had he once called Katie the pretty one? Because Katie couldn’t hold a candle to Emma. Emma was one of those rare women who got prettier as you got to know her. She had a stunning smile, eyes that glowed when she was happy and sparkled when she laughed. She had an inner radiance that nobody could fake.
“Katie’s a pale second,” he agreed.
Nathaniel sobered, and his jaw went tight. “You do remember she has an ulterior motive, right?”
“Katie?”
“Emma.”
“I’m fully aware of all Emma’s motives.” She was doing exactly what she’d promised. The woman didn’t have a scheming bone in her body.
“Al-”
“Back off, Nate.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well stop saying it. My wife is not plotting against us.”
“Everybody’s plotting against us.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“She’s marrying you for your money.”
“Because I forced her to.”
“Just keep your guard up.”
“Just mind your own damn business.”
Nathaniel shook his head. Then his mouth curved into a knowing smile.
“What?” Alex asked.
“It’s ironic,” said Nathaniel.
Alex waited.
“That you fell for her.”
“I did not.” Alex snapped his jaw shut.
Okay. No point in disagreeing. He had fallen for Emma. But it hadn’t clouded his judgment. For the first time in his life, his judgment was clear.
He was marrying Emma in the morning, and it was absolutely the right thing to do.
Emma told herself over and over that this wasn’t a real wedding. But somehow it didn’t ease the pain of her father’s absence. Marriage of convenience or not, he should have been here to hold her hand, to escort her down the aisle, to tell her everything was going to be all right when, deep down in her soul, Emma feared it would never be all right again.
The weather had cooperated. So, under the glare of a brilliant blue sky, the gazebo band struck up the traditional version of the “Wedding March.” Mrs. Nash’s choice, no doubt.
That was Katie’s cue to start down the long strip of royal blue carpet that bisected seven hundred white folding chairs filled with smiling friends, relatives and business associates. Lilac ribbons streamed from the floral pew ends, fluttering in the breeze while Emma kept her attention fixed on Katie’s purple dress.
Proving Alex lived in a whole other world, Mrs. Nash had hired a team of seamstresses to design and sew Katie’s dress in less than a week. The same nineteen-twenties style as Emma’s, it was shorter and simpler, and perfectly suited to Katie’s slender shape.
They’d both opted for upswept hairstyles. To match the color of her dress, Katie’s had a light sprinkling of irises at the back, while Emma had had a pinned French twist and the antique diamond tiara to match her cream-colored vintage gown. A veil seemed excessive, so she’d left her head bare.
Katie passed the midpoint of the long aisle, Emma’s cue to start walking. She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. She couldn’t bring herself to meet anyone’s eyes, and she sure didn’t want to look at Alex, so she fixed her gaze on the rose-covered arbor.
Everything else faded to her soft vision, and she told herself her father would be proud. At least, she hoped he would be proud. She’d give anything to have him here to tell her one way or the other.
By the time she made it to the front, her eyes were misty with memories and regrets. Striking in his tux, Alex took her hands in his and stared at her quizzically while the preacher welcomed the congregation.
His eyes narrowed in a question, and she shook her head and forced a smile. She was fine. She would get this over with, and her life would get back to normal. Well, almost normal.
He gave her a smile in return and a reassuring little squeeze. Then the preacher addressed the two of them, talking at length on the solemnity of marriage and their obligations to each other as lifelong partners.
Emma grew more uncomfortable by the second. Was Alex listening to this? Had he known it was coming? Could they not cut to the “I dos” and get out?
Finally, the preacher started on the vows. Emma almost breathed a sigh of relief. But then her gaze caught Alex’s, and his deep voice seemed to penetrate her very skin. She felt a tingle envelope her as he promised to love her and honor her.
It wasn’t real. She’d repeated that to herself over and over again. But when she whispered her own vows, something shifted inside her. And when he slipped the antique wedding band on her finger, she felt the weight of a dozen generations on her shoulders. For better or worse, she was now a Garrison bride.
The preacher pronounced them husband and wife, the crowd erupted in a spontaneous cheer, and Alex leaned down to kiss her.
“For the record,” he whispered as his palms cupped her face and lips grew close. “I
Then his tender kiss exploded between them. He pulled back, far too soon. For a moment, and only for a moment, with her head tucked into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, feeling the strength of his arms and the power of his heartbeat, she let herself believe. But then she heard the helicopters in the distance and realized it was all for the benefit of the telephoto lenses.
Alex was grinning happily at her. He planted one more kiss on her forehead before taking her hand for the recessional. The band struck up, and the standing crowd congratulated them all the way down the aisle.
Back on the veranda, Katie gave her a quick hug and kiss, then they assembled into a receiving line to greet ambassadors, celebrities and captains of industry.
“You did great,” said Alex nearly two hours later as they made their way across the lawn. The sky had turned a glorious pink. The champagne was flowing, and succulent smells were beginning to waft from the tent.
“I want to jump up on the nearest table and confess to them all,” said Emma. The deeper they went into their deception, the guiltier she felt.
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” said Alex.
“Afraid I’d tarnish the Garrison name?”
He smirked. “Afraid you’d convince six hundred people you were a lunatic. I’d be forced to tell them you were merely drunk. It could get ugly.”
“I didn’t drink a thing.”
“You mean I’d be, gasp,
“Don’t you feel the least bit guilty?”
“At the moment, I feel…as if it’s none of their damn business.”
“You invited them to our wedding.”
“To eat Beef Wellington, not to pass judgment on my life.”
“They’re your friends and family.”
“You’re my family now.”
His words made her chest ache. “Don’t say that.”
In response, he took her hand and kissed each of the knuckles.
“Alex, don’t.” His playacting made her want things she couldn’t have, things they could never have together.
