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"I … I'm sorry."
Jake closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms. "About what?"
She shrugged. When he held her like this she didn't want to leave. She wanted to believe the illusion they were presenting to the world was true. "This. Being so emotional."
Jake tipped her chin back and she stared up at him through the filmy lace of her veil. "A wedding is a big deal in a woman's life."
"What about a man's?" she asked.
"What?"
"Is this a big deal to you, Jake?" She should have kept her mouth shut, shouldn't have worried about what he was going to say, but she did. She didn't want him to answer unless he said the words her wounded heart needed to hear.
He pushed her veil up and smoothed it back away from her face. Without the barrier between them, his breath brushed her cheek and his eyes were very sincere. He leaned close to her and whispered, "You're the only woman I've ever asked to marry me. You know this is a big deal."
She sighed. She did know that. Jake was a good man. A good man who she was falling more and more in love with each moment she spent with him.
She realized suddenly that her tears had nothing to do with the family she'd never really had and everything with wanting Jake to marry her for love and not convenience.
He handed her a snowy handkerchief that bore his monogram. She wiped her face and saw the residue of the makeup she wore on it.
"I just felt so alone," she said.
"Well, you're not. We're in this together."
"Sorry I made a mess of my makeup."
"I don't care about that."
"You don't?"
"Rissa, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Suddenly things didn't seem quite as desperate as they had earlier. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Are you ready to get married now?"
She nodded. He gently kissed her forehead and lowered her veil once again. Then taking her hand firmly in his, he led her back to the chapel. When they exchanged vows, a part of her began to believe that Jake never would leave her.
* * *
Larissa smiled for the pictures after their wedding, and even though Jake knew that they were playacting, it felt real to him. A little too real, he thought uncomfortably. He'd always been a loner even though he'd been surrounded by siblings and cousins. There'd been a core part of himself he'd kept private. Larissa was the only person he'd ever let get a glimpse of it.
And now they were married. Jake moved away to have a few final words with the reporter.
Larissa was standing by herself. She'd clung tightly to his hand throughout the ceremony and he remembered promising her he'd help shoulder her burdens. He knew she didn't believe his words. But when he'd looked into her eyes and given her his vow, he'd realized he meant them. Legally she was his and there was a sense of rightness that accompanied that feeling.
Artie promised to send a rough draft of the article to Nicola for approval before his magazine printed it. Soon they were alone. Just him and his bride. The primitive part of Jake's soul was ready to claim her. To throw her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs and push aside her doubts. To prove to her that she'd made the correct decision when she'd pledged her life to him.
But he'd been raised with more sophistication than that. He'd arranged for them to have dinner on the rooftop of the hotel. Away from the prying eyes of any reporters.
Away from the intimacy of their suite. He crossed the chapel to her side.
"What else do we have to do tonight?" she asked nervously. He knew she hadn't liked the public part of their wedding—the pictures that would be sent to magazines and newspapers, the questions that Artie had asked and they'd answered.
"Nothing. The evening is ours."
She flushed a little and licked her lips. God, she was making all his good intentions hard to carry out.
"I've got a surprise for you."
"Really? What is it?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. He noticed she did that when she was in a contemplative mood. What was going on in her head?
He wished he understood her better. But he was honest enough to admit understanding Larissa or any woman had never been a top priority.
"A secret that I think you'll like. Now close your eyes and follow me."
"Okay."
He took her hand and led her to the elevator. He used the passkey he'd gotten from the casino manager to access the rooftop. When the doors opened, he pocketed the key and lifted Larissa into his arms. He walked to the table surrounded by candles and string lights. He set her on her feet.
"Open your eyes."
Larissa looked around at the romantic setting. A dining tent had been set up on the roof. It was draped in sheer gossamer fabric and lights twinkled from underneath it. She saw a table set for two. Beyond the dining area, the night sky was bright with the lights of the Vegas strip. But the smooth sounds of Jimmy Buffett poured from the speakers.
