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He crossed his arms over his chest, wrinkling the navy blue tie under his dark gray suit. “What do you think it’s going to be like, losing your virginity to someone you don’t know at all? Someone who’s almost twice your age?”
His crude question pissed me off, even as it raised the alarm bells I’d been hearing in my mind for the last two weeks.
“I’m sure Roman is enough of a gentleman to wait until I feel comfortable,” I said, shoving Demian out of the room before I smacked him. When I turned back to the dressing table, Elise stared anxiously at me.
“What if he’s not the gentleman he makes himself out to be?” she asked.
I didn’t have time to dwell on that genuine fear that I shared with her, or come up with a reply that showed the proper amount of courage to get her to stop acting like she was about to burst into tears. My father pounded on the door, then swung it open to beam at me.
“You’re beautiful, Karine. It’s time we get you down that aisle.”
Elise hurried ahead of me, holding onto her long bridesmaid skirt so she didn’t tumble down the stairs. Papa held his arm out, still smiling proudly. As he helped me down the stairs and along the path through the garden to where all the guests waited, I felt my knees knocking under all the voluminous satin and lace I was encased in.
The unreality of the last two weeks faded the closer we got to the long aisle, with my future husband waiting at the end of it. Was this really happening? Duty was one thing, but was this a step too far? Maybe I should have let Demian set off his little bomb and made a run for it.
I actually laughed out loud at that thought, making my father turn and give me a concerned look. If I ran, I’d be caught in less than an hour, only embarrassing myself. My father would have never forgiven me for the betrayal, and I never would have forgiven myself for my cowardice.
Of course, I was doing this.
The trip down the aisle was a blur. Whatever the priest said may as well have been in Cantonese for all I registered any of it, and before I knew it, I heard Roman say I do. Then, it was my turn to repeat all the vows and pledge myself to him. The kiss was lightning fast, the applause deafening as we ran back down the aisle.
Time started working normally again at the reception set up in our ballroom. I had to hand it to myself and Elise, and the dozen helpers we’d hired. The place looked wonderfully romantic, with all fairy lights and roses, crystal chandeliers, and pale pink velvet cushions on all the chairs. There was a live band we were lucky to get on such short notice, and my father was paying dearly for it, too. By the time the dinner was over, and it was time to dance, I actually felt somewhat relaxed. After a few minutes of the first dance with my father, Roman cut in and didn’t let me go after that, no matter who tried to cut in.
The way he couldn’t take his eyes off of me was flattering, and I wanted to believe it was real. Who wouldn’t want to think their handsome new husband wasn’t completely enamored with her? And he was so darn good-looking, it almost made me dizzy every time he flashed his smile at me. His shoulders were so broad in his perfectly tailored evening suit, his hands so strong and sure on my waist as he twirled me around the dance floor. I wanted to run my hands through his short, dark curls but didn’t dare. He was still a stranger, after all.
Oh, he was perfectly charming, just like he was on the three dates we went on during our whirlwind two-week-long betrothal. Just like then, he kept trying to engage me in conversation, but now, with his hands roaming up and down my back, it was even harder to let my guard down and answer him. It was a curse being shy. If my father hadn’t arranged this marriage for me, I might have ended up an old maid.
“What’s that look for?” Roman asked, leaning down close to me.
“What look?” I asked, feeling my cheeks heat up as I felt his warm breath on my neck.
We were married now and had kissed exactly one time. The chaste peck when the priest gave his permission. I really wanted another one. Anything to break this terrible tension I didn’t understand but was coursing through me like a fever.
He leaned back, grinning down at me. Just then, the music changed to a slow song, and he pulled me close. I was happy to lean against him to catch my breath, which was short both from exertion and the way he’d been looking at me.
“You had this look like you were thinking, ‘Oh, shit.’ You can admit it if you were.” His teasing tone helped me relax; at the same time, the way his hands kept creeping lower against my back was making the tension rise.
“No, I wasn’t thinking that,” I said. “It was probably worse, actually.”
“Oh, now you have to admit what it was.”
I shook my head, but his cajoling smile finally got me to speak. “I was thinking I was lucky my father set this up, or I’d probably have ended up dying alone.”
He actually skipped a step, faltering in our rhythmic swaying. He shook his head, pulling me tighter against his big, hard body. “No way. There’s no way that would happen, Karine. I’m the lucky one.”
Was he just buttering me up the way he did with my father? I leaned back to search his face, having no way to be sure, since I didn’t know his signals. His dark eyes were unreadable, but he didn’t look away, and his hands tightened on my waist. Unwanted tears rose in my eyes—purely from the stress of planning the wedding and exhaustion from being up since the crack of dawn putting the finishing touches on everything. I would have rather taken a direct punch than have him see it, so I nestled my face against his chest and let out a long sigh.
“You’re tired,” he said, leading me off the dance floor.
Okay, this was a good start. Maybe I couldn’t read him, but he could at least tell that much about me.
We settled down at our table, where we accepted everyone’s well wishes and congratulations. I asked him why his brother hadn’t come to the wedding, and he frowned.
“He wanted to be here more than anything, but it was just too quick. He couldn’t get away from a conference in Tokyo that he was speaking at.”
“Are you two identical?” I asked.
“Yes, but he’s like a hippie version of me. Longer hair, more laid back.”
