Page 103 of Roman

I nodded, unable to speak.

“You look beautiful. Remember, Roman is waiting for you. Everything is going to be fine.”

Then she turned and began walking, the green dress she wore complementing her coloring. She held her head high, looking polished and confident.

Luca held out his arm. “Ready?”

I swallowed, sadness rushing through me. I couldn’t change my mind. I couldn’t leave Roman at the altar. I would marry him and offer to let him go even though the mere thought of that made me even sadder. I slipped my hand over Luca’s waiting arm and nodded. It seemed to be the only thing I was capable of doing right now.

We paused at the end of the aisle, waiting for Vi to get to the front. People were on their feet, staring, many of them no doubt finding me lacking. A ripple of fear coursed through me. I knew how dangerous these people were, simply from their presence. I gripped Luca’s arm tighter, and he patted my hand in understanding. “Focus on Roman,” he said quietly as we began to walk.

I sought out Roman’s gaze. He stood tall and proud at the front, waiting for me. Dressed in a dark suit, his tie a deep green to match my underskirt, he was incredibly handsome. He was watching me with his usual intensity, his hands folded in front of him. He had a smile on his lips, subtle, but present. His expression was hard to determine, although he swept his gaze over me head to toe, then did it again, seemingly transfixed. Then his brow furrowed, and he stepped forward before I expected, taking my hand Luca offered him and pulling me toward him. When he held up his hand, telling the minister to give him a moment, I was shocked and unsure. He cupped my face, the intimacy of his touch, of the way he surrounded me, protective and determined, I was no longer lost as he spoke.

His whispered words calmed me. His touch soothed me. He met my gaze, and I saw the certainty in his eyes. His query of “Are you ready?” and his unexpected wink gave me the strength to say yes.

Then I stepped forward with him and became his wife.

The next few hours were a blur. Photos, introductions, some well-wishes and far more formal congratulations were said. As if sensing my fear, Roman never once left my side unless I was next to Aldo and Luca, who seemed to have formed a guard around Nonna, Justine, and me. And the brief moments I was without Roman, his gaze never left me.

The meal was spectacular, everyone commenting on the feast. I was hard-pressed to eat anything, my nerves still high, and what I did swallow was like ashes in my mouth. More than once, Roman leaned over, pressing a cube of cheese or a morsel of some other delicacy into my mouth.

“Eat, Little Tiger,” he whispered. “I want to dance with my wife, so you need your strength.”

I managed to eat enough to satisfy him. I was glad we had no head table. Instead, we sat with his family at one of the round tables so we weren’t on display. As it was, I felt the constant glances, some curious, some unfriendly, a very few genuinely kind. I was like a fish out of water, and I wished I was at the table with my guests as an observer, not the main attraction.

Once dinner was done and the cake cut, the music began. Roman stood and thanked people for coming, his voice projecting throughout the room. He was calm and looked at ease as he informed the crowd we would be leaving shortly for our honeymoon, but he expected them to stay and enjoy the bar and the casino if they so desired. “House accounts have been set up for each of you. Aldo will ensure your enjoyment,” he announced.

Amid the applause, he held out his hand and pulled me onto the dance floor as a lovely song began to play. He held me close, leading me around the floor.

“Honeymoon?” I asked quietly.

“You didn’t expect one?” he responded, sounding amused.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, it was meant as a surprise. It is only a couple of days. We’ll take a longer one in the fall.”

“I have nothing packed.”

“Vi did it for you. You have nothing to worry about.” He frowned. “I think you’re worrying about enough as it is.”

“I’m sorry?” I questioned.

He looked down at me. “Why did your eyes look so sad coming down the aisle, Little Tiger? I know you were nervous, but there was more. Was the thought of marrying me so terrible?”

I was surprised by his words. That he had seen my fear and my sadness. I was also shocked he was asking me here and now, but as I looked around, I realized to anyone looking, all they saw was a couple whispering to each other on their wedding day. Roman held me tight, his hand spread wide across my back. He was leaning close, his voice low, concerned.

I decided to be honest. “I was sad. For you.”

“For me?” He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

I sighed. “Because you feel you had to marry me, Roman. I hate the thought that you are giving up a part of your life you shouldn’t because of some misguided guilt.”

He blinked, shook his head, and swept me around so we were close to the corner. He stopped dancing, cupping my face, his body protecting me, once again throwing us into our own world. “Listen to me, my wife, and listen well. We are married because I chose to marry you. Not out of guilt. Not out of some obligation. Because I wanted to. We are going to make a life together that suits us both. Do you hear me?”

He traced circles on my skin with his thumbs. “I’m certain I’m not what you had in mind for a husband. I never planned on getting married. But we suit each other, Effie. You calm me. Focus me. I am obsessed with you on so many levels. I want you. Constantly. Never second-guess that. I am exactly where I want to be. Understand?”

I tried to take in his words. Calm. Focused. Obsessed. Exactly where he wanted to be.