Page 4 of Not His Bride

If this were a cartoon, I’d have literal heart eyes right now. My entire body pulses. Even my hair seems to have a heartbeat that thumps all for him.

Heather gathers her things and smoothly backs out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I’m left with him. Him, who I’m told was the one who proposed our wedding in the first place.

Gallagher stands, jacket sleeves perfect except for one cufflink—off by a few degrees, like he adjusted it out in the hallway, then decided not to care. He’s wearing a form-fitting black tux with a gold vest underneath. The fabric stretches across his chest and broad shoulders.

Neither of us says anything. I feel sweat collecting in my palms, leaving marks on the silk.

“You look beautiful, Lilith.”

My voice wants to crack, but doesn’t. I let out a breath that almost passes for a laugh.

“Thank you. Although I heard it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding.”

“Usually, yeah.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

He gives me a small smile. “I figured we should probably have a conversation before we get married.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I’ve met Debbie plenty of times, but you and I haven’t said two words to each other.”

“And that didn’t concern you before you asked my father to let me marry you?” Not that I’m complaining.

His smile falters. “It’s not ideal, but I think we’ll make a great partnership.”

Gallagher crosses to the vanity, steps around so he’s not an image caught in the background. He crouches, so we’re at the exact same level, and without asking, he gently moves a piece of hair from my temple.

The pressure of his touch should surprise me. Instead, I stop breathing.

“You don’t have to feel anything in particular,” Gallagher says.

He lets his hand fall back to his side, making me wish he had kept it there. He straightens and then I get up from the chair. Folds of silk catch at my knees. We’re close enough that his jacket brushes my shoulder.

“I didn’t expect you to come find me,” I say.

“Neither did I. It was spontaneous on my part.”

Soft music drifts up from the ballroom while the guests find their seats.

He speaks again. “I’m looking forward to working with your father and Debbie after all this. Between the merger and deals with people like Maison Ziterweigen, there’s a lot we can do.”

That makes me look up. My mouth pulls to one side before I can stop it.

His expression isn’t mocking exactly, but the surprise there irritates me. “You did a face,” he says.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

Sighing, I say, “That’s because I was surprised by it. I assumed you asked me to marry you instead of my sister because you’d done your homework.”

Gallagher appears confused until he seems to get it. “I didn’t realize you were involved with the family businesses.”

“Do you know Maison Ziterweigen?”

“Of course.”