Her hair had been left loose—that glorious, aphrodisiacal hair glistening and tumbling around her naked shoulders. Skittles fluttered beside her, a green jewel glinting in the sun, hinting that Eleanor’s beauty wasn’t just outward but to her very core.
She’d gained the trust of a shy bird all by being her. She’d stolen my pet of fourteen years because of her empathy. And she’d ripped out my heart just by fucking existing.
She was wrong that it was something at first sight with us.
It wasn’t something.
It was love.
Pure, buckling, brutalising love.
I’d just been too shit-terrified to admit it.
Almost as if Jaya knew our story, she’d rejected the traditional white pomp and overly beaded gown, leaving Eleanor almost naked in refinement.
Her gown was sleeveless in the same soft simple linen as my suit. It clung to her body, revealing sensual curves and barely hiding the shadows of her nipples beneath. The tightness flared from her hips, falling in swathes of uncoloured, untampered fabric.
It mimicked the colour of the silver-golden sand she padded barefoot over, a diamond anklet glinting around her leg, the train of linen leaving a sweeping path behind her.
Parts of the skirt had been torn and left dangling in a way that hinted at a girl shipwrecked on my shores, gowned in the sails of her broken chariot, island bound and all mine to plunder.
“Breathe, man.” Cal chuckled as I stumbled.
Opening my mouth, I sucked in fragrant orchid air and the salty tang of my sea.
And I couldn’t fucking wait.
Why was it tradition for the bride to walk to the groom?
Why was I forbidden from meeting her on her journey and interrupting her path because that’s exactly what had happened in life. Our paths had collided, entwined, and changed course.
The architecture of romance and finding your perfect mate didn’t follow fucking rules, so why should I?
Digging my cane for purchase, I strode to claim my goddess.
Chapter Forty-Four
PAIN.
Delicious, consuming body-clenching, heart-suffocating pain.
I drowned in it. I succumbed to it. I would feel such pain for the rest of my life simply by looking at this man who was almost mine.
Sully had transcended from a mere god to a resplendent demon.
He had the magic to make me wet just from a stare, the power to stop my heart just from a touch, and the ability to bring me to tears just by the way he staggered toward me, refusing to wait for me to join him at the altar, abolishing tradition and scribbling out the rules just because he could.
The finger snap for the celebrant to chase him had all the characteristics of a conceited royal who bled power. His sniff of expectation for Cal and Jess to follow echoed with habits of his past. But beneath that arrogance lurked a newer, fiercer scandal.
A lecherous man who would always retain the outward exterior of cruel and impeachable but had somehow let me into the den of his heart. A den where he let down his walls, permitted me to see him, allowed me to cultivate the goodness deep within.
He didn’t speak as he met me on the shore.
The jewelled kayaks that I’d used to run away had been hidden along with the loungers and umbrellas for banished guests. The beach was as empty as an uninhabited island and we were both dressed as if we’d been washed up with no belongings or past between us.
How had Jaya known?
When she’d pulled out the torn gown and promised me it was perfect for today, I’d been sceptical. Weren’t all brides supposed to glitter in beads and rustle in lace? I’d felt underdressed, bare, completely at Sully’s mercy as I’d padded barefoot within his sand.
No high-heels would’ve worked here. No fancy pantyhose or nail varnish.
From the moment I’d arrived, I’d traded shoes for nothing and the metaphor in that arrowed into my heart. Shoes weren’t needed here because my path had ended. I didn’t need to walk over glass or hardship, no need to traverse the roads of careers or stress.
I was home.
And every step from here on out would be with Sully by my side.
Skittles squeaked as she landed on my bare shoulder.
Pika fluttered after Sully, dragging a silver ribbon with three rings blinding in the sun.
And Sully took my hand in his, the rolled-up cuffs of his trousers damp from the sea, his hair messy and shoved back with an impatient hand, his five o’clock shadow soaking up the daylight and narrowing all my attention on his perfect kissable lips.
Those lips had said such vile things.
But they had also said the sweetest.
His left hand stayed locked around his cane as the celebrant caught up with us, wiping away the sweat at his temples, and rolling his eyes at Sully’s broken tradition.
“Are you ready to begin?” the celebrant asked.
Sully swallowed and waved the man away. “All you need to do is the binding part, nothing else.”
Cal chuckled, and Jess rolled her eyes, and I...I couldn’t look away from the intense sharpness, the utter snarl within Sully’s stare.
Whistling once, Sully let my hand go and waited for Pika to descend and wrap his claws around his finger. Leaving his cane speared into the sand, he pulled the ribbon free and unthreaded the three rings.
Silently, he passed the largest one to me.
I captured it in my palm and held it up to the setting, fiery sun. Every minute the sky darkened with cracks of crimson and splashes of sienna, bathing us in sinful red. The band I held was made of thick yellow gold. Heavy to hold and frosted with brilliant diamonds, sweeping over the top, following the contour of a quill and the bristling of a feather.
I looked up, understanding instantly. “For Pika and Skittles.”
His lips fought a grimace and a grin. “You’re not just marrying me, you’re marrying everything that I hold precious. I will never trust anyone as much as I trust you to
