AllFreeNovel
Share Us
4
“Do you Kira Jones, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, and do you…” The officiant’s voice fell into the background as Luc stared into her eyes. Mon Dieu… his bride looked divine.
With enough makeup to enhance her pretty features and a dress that concealed more than showed, she was the picture of bridal modesty. That idea would usually send him running for the hills, as it was the opposite of the woman he usually went for. Then again, he realized with a blasé stance, this—getting married—was also the opposite of what he’d typically do. Especially to a stranger. Especially to a woman who most likely would report his every move to his father.
“I do,” she said, and her voice interrupted his cynical thoughts.
A wave of a warm sensation washed over him, softening his edge. He swallowed the lump in his throat, shunning any emotion. Why would he feel the prickle of his nerve endings? These vows meant nothing to him. He knew that, and she knew that. They’d both signed a contract about a sham marriage.
The officiant nodded at him. “And do you, Lucas Beauford…”
He glanced at the well-dressed male who looked a bit too young to have done this too many times. Luc barely registered his words, still catching up with his emotional response. But he knew when the man finished speaking, and angled his head with a question at the end.
“I do,” Luc said.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss Mrs. Luc Beauford,” the officiant said, adding a bit of panache at the end.
The small audience formed by her cousins, his father, Richard, and a few employees clapped. A few more people sat on the white covered chairs, and he wondered if they were hired actors or employees who kissed his father’s ass and would come happily when invited to what was an intimate affair.
He dipped his head, but before he brushed his lips on hers, a memory sent his body to a halt. The clause. She’d asked him not to touch her, but did this count? This was part of the charade, and if he didn’t kiss her, how would the photographer snap a picture that Richard would be sure to send to all the publications?
She lifted her eyebrow, a glean of defiance in her eyes.
His breath caught in his throat, like he just swallowed the air from the entire room. He didn’t move, didn’t inch closer, yet somehow the rapt message of her eyes, the energy bouncing between them shortened the distance, and also managed to make everyone else in the room disappear.
She stretched to her full height, and her gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth.
She pulled him closer, and brushed his lips with hers.
The contact shot an incendiary response, a wave of lust sweeping over him. As quick as it started, the kiss ended, and she withdrew, leaving his lips sizzling, his whole body throbbing for more.
“Congrats,” said the officiant.
The photographer kept taking pictures of them, and Richard pointed at the three-tier cake he’d ordered. Luc knew next to nothing about weddings, but he imagined a cake so intricate needed time in advance to be made. But in their world, money talked. Richard worked for his father and couldn’t be that different from him.
“Can you believe the size of that thing?” Kira asked, cocking her head in the direction of the cake. “I wonder how they were able to get one on such short notice…”
“When you offer the right amount of money, things happen.”
She shrugged. “I guess I can’t judge. This is an express wedding. You got an immediate bride, an immediate cake…”
And an immediate headache.
He bit back a smile. How would he deal with the sizzling attraction to her? He couldn’t seduce her using his usual repertoire. No. Kira wouldn’t fall for it, and besides, he didn’t want to break the clause.
“Immediate honeymoon?” he suggested, cocking his head. “You know, all good things come in threes.”
A blush spread across her cheeks. She opened her mouth, then blinked, and pointed at something behind him. “Immediate Champagne.”
A waiter brought the exclusive bottle to them, and she whispered, “That’s about the only third good thing that will happen today.”
“You’re right,” he said, taking the flutes from the waiter and giving her one. “The other thing I had in mind wasn’t good… but dirty. Sweaty. And phenomenal.”
He saw her throat work, and a current of male pride washed over him. Then, she took the drink to her mouth and drank it all in one gulp.
The photographer approached them, looking at her, “Okay, bride. Let’s do this again, but this time, drink the Champagne slowly. And look into the groom’s eyes.”
She set the drink at the nearby table, and turned to the photographer. “Bride needs to freshen up. Excuse me,” she said, then walked out of the ballroom, and he imagined, to the restroom.
