Huh? I furrow my brows. Does that mean…? He doesn’t intend to fuck me on our wedding night? And it would be fucking, make no mistake. He’s told me, in no uncertain terms, that he means to have me… Or perhaps he’s not the bare back kind…? A hollowness grips my stomach.
"Funny," I whisper back, "I would have thought you’d be the kind who wouldn’t let a rubber come between you and your wife."
"You’re right," his lips twist.
"I am?"
He nods. "If you had been my wife, I’d have taken your cunt with nothing except our skin separating us. I’d have shagged you raw, until we melded into each other… But then… You’re not my wife, are you…? Not really."
My heart twists. A pressure builds behind my eyes, "You’re a piece of shit, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one, dear Gigi."
"I fucking hate you." I try to pull away.
His grip tightens and he holds me in place. "Hang onto that sentiment. You’ll need it for what I have planned for us tonight."
The song dies away.
That he'd remembered to choose a song...for this event. What does it mean? Does he have feelings for me, despite his tendency to retreat into his douchebag extraordinaire persona?
My head spins.
My belly lurches and my pulse begins to thud. His cryptic comments are getting to me. Hell. What am I doing? Why am I here? Had I actually thought I’d get through this and find a way to rescue Nina?
I glance around the space. Amelie’s gaze meets mine. She smiles, holds up crossed fingers, then pushes the tips against her forehead and mimics a gun firing off. A chuckle wells up, even as a tear trails down my cheek.
I will not cry. Will not. I swallow down the lump that blocks my throat. Just get through this. One step at a time. I can do this. I can.
Next to Amelie, Summer catches my eye. Her features are pinched. She looks from me to Saint, then back to me. Her forehead creases. I read the question on her face. How I wish I could confide in her. We aren’t related by blood, but I’d trusted Summer on sight.
Just like I’d been attracted to Saint right away. And see where that got me? I force my lips to curve into a smile. Then lean into Saint. He stiffens. Then he brings my fingers up to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
Isla sighs.
Amelie’s gaze widens.
Even Summer’s features relax at that.
Of course, these women are Summer’s friends, and she’s married to Sinclair, one of the Seven and among Saint’s closest friends. Clearly, they would believe him. They have no reason to doubt his tactics. I have no one here on my side. It is me against all of them. Me and my wits. We are well-acquainted with this situation. I turn forward as Saint comes to a stop.
He releases my hand.
The doors to the room open behind us. I hear whispers, then footsteps sound. Amelie appears next to me holding a posy of flowers.
She thrusts it at me, and I take it.
"How?"
She smiles, "Saint messaged me to get them from the flower shop in the lobby."
"He did?"
I glance at the bouquet of delicate blood red lilies. Is that why he'd asked me what my favorite flower was? My head whirls. This makes no sense. Though it's a relief to have something in my hands to hold onto, instead of wringing them in front of me.
Silence descends on the crowd. Edward looks between us. "In what is becoming a practice for quick weddings among the Seven, I am pleased to welcome all of you here today to celebrate the union of Saint Jordan Killian Caldwell with Victoria."
Behind me, I hear the sound of whispering, a small commotion. Edward looks over our heads, "Late but you're in time… Jace and Sienna."
"Sorry, Father… We rushed over as soon as we heard." Jace grins.
"You’re forgiven, considering…” Edward nods at someone I can’t see.
"We’re here now," Sienna’s voice interrupts. "Didn’t mean to steal the attention from the bride."
I glance sideways in time to see Sienna walk up to take her place in one of the chairs. She places one hand on her belly, waves at me. "I’m sorry," she mouths.
I shake my head. My gaze slips back to her belly. I can’t stop a smile from curving my features. How would it be to be pregnant? To swell with a child? Saint’s child. A girl with his dark hair and blue eyes, that nervous energy coiled in her as she beams at boys and reduces them to mush.
Jace dips his head and places his hand over Sienna’s. He kisses her forehead. They smile at each other in that secret way couples who love each other have. Something that I won’t.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes again. Jesus, the hell is wrong with me?
More waterworks. Must be the prospect of getting married for the first time that is doing me in. It seems…to mean something. Despite the fact that it is meant to be a sham; standing next to Saint, facing the minister, seems to signify a start. A change of circumstances. Something important.
Saint shifts next to me. Heat from his body flows around me, warms my chilled skin. Goosebumps flare on my arms.
Edward turns to Saint, "Do you, Saint Jordan Killian Caldwell take Victoria…" He turns to me.
"Just Victoria," I mumble.
"Take Just Victoria," Edward smiles, "to be your lawfully-wedded wife?"
Behind me, a chuckle runs through the crowd.
This is happening, really happening. I swallow hard. My palms begin to sweat and the bouquet slips from my hands.
Saint swoops down so fast, I blink. He straightens, holding the bouquet, then turns and shoves it at Damian, who takes it from him. He glances past Damian, who's lips curve in a genuine smile.
Saint makes a noise in his throat. A warning? Nah, it can’t be. He has no reason to be jealous anyway. When Saint is in the room, everyone else recedes into the background.
"Saint?" Edward
