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“Uh.” He glanced at Zoe again. Her eyes met his, a grin playing on her lips. “How about here instead?” He wrote his name on the woman’s arm and nodded to security.

Quickly and efficiently, they cleared the area as he ambled over to Zoe, propping one foot on the bench and leaning over her. “Ready for the show?”

“Isn’t the main attraction already here?”

“Very funny, but I mean the one I told you about—the flash mob.” Grinning, he stepped back and gently pulled her to her feet. She tucked her phone in her purse and smoothed her dress down.

“Aren’t flash mobs supposed to be planned spontaneity?” She regarded him skeptically.

He brushed back the dark fall of silky hair gleaming on her shoulder. “Insider information.” Brennen had told him the dancers would be performing a mash-up of some old Bruno Mars and Train songs. Brennen had also assured him the lyrics would be considered romantic by a woman like Zoe. To ensure his friend was telling the truth, Christian had promised Brennen severe bodily harm if the words ‘smack that’ left anyone’s mouth.

“Did your informer say what kind of songs they’d be performing?”

“Something romantic.”

Raising her brows, she smiled. “Pulling out all the stops for my last night in Vegas, huh? I’m impressed.”

“I want it to be something you’ve never experienced. Hell, it’ll be new for me.”

Music sounded to the right of them. Men and women emerged from the crowd, joining in.

Zoe swayed lightly to the beat while she stood in front of him, then froze. His jaw dropped.

Brennen had kept his promise. ‘Smack that’ didn’t leave anyone’s mouth. It was worse. Much, much worse.

When the last notes faded away, she turned to face him. “Did you mean it or was that for everyone else?” Her dark eyes were luminous and vulnerable.

He couldn’t do this, not to her. No matter how much his agent would love this kind of news about him. Not even for an organization like B.T.S. It was too cruel, too permanent. He had enough sins weighing him down.

But his heart had other ideas. There would never be another moment like this, so perfect and right. He would never have another woman look at him like Zoe was right now. Like he’d hung the moon and stars for her. She didn’t see him as Ian Romanov, the actor. She knew him, down to his most guarded secrets, as Christian Romanov, the man.

As if coming from a far off distance he heard himself ask, “Will you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, throwing her arms around him.

Then he kissed her.

Chapter Seventeen

Young Elvis winked and shot a finger pistol at them as Christian carried her out of main room of the chapel.

“Thank you. Thank you very much,” Zoe shouted in her best Elvis voice. Her head swam from the all the glasses of champagne she’d drank while they were waiting for their turn. Who knew so many people came to the Little White Church or was it the den of iniquity? Too bad she didn’t have her notepad with her.

Christian set her on her feet and she lurched to one side. “Hang on there, Mrs. Romanov.”

Reaching around him to grab another glass, she’d only taken a few sips before he snatched it away. “Hey, that’s mine.”

“I think you’ve had enough, love. Can’t have you puking your guts up on our wedding night.”

Her vision blurred, then his fallen angel face came into focus. “Would you hold my hair back if I did? And then feed me Bo’ Jangles the next morning?”

“Is that a cure for a hangover?”

She giggled. “Always worked in college.”

“Were you a wild-child in college? We never discussed Zoe: The College Years.”

“No, I was very, very good.” She dramatically sighed, thinking of all the times Melanie hadn’t talked her into going out. “All I did was study, study and study some more. No playtime for me.”

“Not even once?” He smiled at her and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him.

“Once I was very, very naughty.” She held a finger to her lips. "Don’t tell my momma, but I did it again tonight.”

“I would think all mothers would love their daughters getting married.”

Zoe snorted. “You haven’t met my mother.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“That’s what you think. My mother tends to be dramatic.” She swept her arm out, smacking a vase of flowers and sending the entire thing crashing to the floor. “Oops! I’m sorry. So sorry, Young Elvis.”

“Add it to our bill,” Christian said.

“Thanks for not minding my non-sportsiness.”

“That’s not a real word.”

She tried to give him an imposing frown. “It’s my wedding night, and I can say what I like.” She let go of him and leaned against the wall. “And I likey that word.”

“Lucky for you I can afford your un-non, er, sporty stuff.”

“Non-sportsiness,” she corrected. “And I can afford myself.”

“But I like taking care of you.” Christian looked down at his bride as her eyes closed, faint smudges of mascara under them.

She’d cried when they kissed as man and wife. Then she’d gotten really happy, kissing the preacher and the Elvis impersonator. Hell, he had to stop her before she’d kissed the groom waiting to go next. Not that the guy minded, but Christian sure as hell had. The guy’s fiancée hadn’t looking too excited about the prospect either. Even Zoe had noticed and had thrown her bouquet at the woman, telling her to turn her frown upside down.

Frowning, she mumbled something about her hair. He glanced at her head. The makeshift crown of pink and green flowers she’d put in her hair while they had waited had wilted, but she looked rather enchanting. Her little pink dress made her look bride like. The marriage certificate made it official.

Come tomorrow he would either kill Brennen or thank him. Maybe do both, then go on a long honeymoon in a country that didn’t extradite criminals.

He shoved his hands in his pockets to find his phone, texting Sasha with a few instructions. He needed a ring for his bride, and not just any ring either.

They’d almost skipped over the ring portion of the ceremony, until he remembered the one in his pocket. He suspected Sasha had slipped the thing in his pocket. He also suspected Sasha was in cahoots with Brennen. But why?

She fussed at the platinum circle when it hit the floor for the hundredth time. “Oh, you slippery little sucker. You better stay in place this time.”

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