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She nods.
"I promise; it will all be okay."
She peers into my features, then draws in a breath. "Okay," she breathes.
"Okay." I turn to face the priest.
43
Aurora
"In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, go in peace with Christ."
“Thanks be to God.”
The voices of those congregated slice through the noise in my head. After Christian had lifted my veil and peered into my face, everything else had faded. All I could see was him. All I could smell was his masculine scent. All I could feel was the touch of his fingers as he held mine. I reveled in the warmth of his body as he pulled me forward to face the priest. Throughout the ceremony, I’d been unable to focus on the priest’s words. That is, until Christian had slipped the wedding band onto my left ring finger—a simple gold band embedded with a tiny amber stone and a blue stone next to it.
Massimo hands me the ring and I slip it onto Christian’s ring finger. That’s when I realize this entire ceremony feels too real… More than real… It feels huge… Like, life-changing huge.
I gulp, and a trembling grips me. My muscles seem to seize up, and I turn my body, ready to run. Christian closes the distance between us and steps in front of me, effectively cutting off my escape. He notches his knuckle under my chin and raises my head.
"It’s too late," he whispers. "I can’t let you run now."
"I have to go," I hiss, "I can’t do this."
"Yes, you can."
"No, I can’t."
"It’s only a kiss, Flower."
"You know that’s not what I’m talking about."
He lowers his face until his breath twines with mine. "Open your mouth," he orders.
I press my lips together, and he smirks.
"No kissing allowed in church," the priest protests from behind me.
We are in Italy, and unlike Hollywood movies where the bride and groom are allowed to kiss in church, here the priests frown on it unless it's a chaste peck on the cheek. Knowing Christian, he's not going to be satisfied with that.
I am proved right when he chuckles, "Sorry, Father, but we do things my way from now on." He brushes his lips over mine once, twice. He bites down on my lower lip, I gasp, and he instantly sweeps his tongue inside my mouth. He locks his lips over mine and sucks on me, ravishes me, dances his tongue across mine, and kisses me with such intensity that my head spins. My knees buckle, and he wraps his arm around my waist and hauls me to him.
I am aware of applause breaking out, of rice being showered on us, and yet he doesn’t stop kissing me. He pulls me to him, close enough that every inch of my chest seems to be plastered to his. My nipples tighten, and my breasts swell. My thighs graze his, and I am aware of his arousal stabbing into my belly. I try to pull away, but Christian holds me firmly. He deepens the kiss, and it’s like he is fucking my mouth with his tongue. My head swims, a groan bleeds from me, and his lips curve. He slows the kiss until his lips are barely touching mine. Then he raises his head and peers into my flushed features.
The priest clears his throat. Christian glares at him, and he pales. He glances between us, then turns and walks off.
"At least he survived the wedding," Luca jokes. He’s referring to the fact that Michael shot and killed the priest subsequent to Michael and Karma’s wedding. Something I heard later from Karma. She mentioned to me that was the moment she realized the kind of man she had married. Someone for whom death was as close as life.
Me? I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to spy on the Sovranos for the stranger who had approached me when I was in London. It’s one of the reasons I had returned to Sicily, after all. My father’s failing health had provided the timely cover for me to get a foothold in their inner circle. If it were not for the fact that I had acted on impulse to help Karma, I would have continued the arrangement without being noticed by Christian. But he had noticed me, and now, here I am.
Christian twines his fingers with mine, then turns to face the assembled crowd. He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the fingertips, and there’s a chorus of sighs from the women in the audience. This is when we should be forming a receiving line at the back of the church, but it's another tradition my bridegroom seems to have dispensed with.
Nonna walks over. She pauses in front of us, and Christian bends his head so Nonna can kiss his forehead. Her eyes glisten. "You made me very happy today," she murmurs, then turns to me and kisses me on my cheek, "and you are a beautiful bride."
"Thank you," I reply.
She turns to Christian, "Thank you for delaying your honeymoon so you can spend some time with us."
