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And where was my fucking bride? Did she think making me wait would heighten the anticipation? Because all it did was irritate me and make me wish I’d never agreed to this farce.
But the gasps in the room when I’d suggested we get a justice of the peace and sign the papers could still be heard weeks later. Mom nearly fainted when I brought it up. And Dad gave me an hour-long lecture on how we had to keep up appearances.
My fingers itched to take out the flask stored in my inside pocket. But having a drink in front of all our esteemed guests definitely wouldn’t go down well. I wasn’t much for rules, but even I knew that was taking things too far.
The sickly scent of flowers tickled my nose, and I held back the urge to sneeze. There were white and pink flowers on every available surface, the church looking like a grow house.
We better not have paid for this shit. Damn Aleksándr for being so old-fashioned. I was sure he could have found some other poor schmuck to marry his daughter off to. Which made me think that maybe she was ugly.
I’d been unable to get photos of her. Apparently she hadn’t left the house in years. Which also made me think there was something wrong with her.
The doors at the end of the church finally opened, and the bridesmaids entered. There were ten of them, and I’d been forced to have ten groomsmen to match.
Tugging on my collar again, I looked at Jude, who stood next to me as my best man. I would have chosen Liam, but he was the one who was responsible for my current predicament, so the fucker didn’t deserve the title. He was standing next to Jude, looking smug and disgustingly happy despite his demotion.
His eyes were glued to Quinn, who sat in the front row next to my mother, smiling at my brother, her face awash with happiness. Gross.
After what felt like an hour, all the bridesmaids were finally lined up in the front of the church. Not sparing them another glance, my gaze went back to the still open door.
Damn violins were still playing, now something I vaguely recognized.
Aleksándr appeared, almost dragging a slip of a girl next to him. Her face was covered with a veil, her figure-hugging white dress showing off gentle curves, piquing my interest.
Depositing my future wife in front of me, Aleksándr shook my hand, clapping me on the back. “I look forward to a successful union of our families.”
I took her small hand, and we turned to the priest, who began the long sermon. My thoughts drifted off, and I was thinking of the red-headed stripper I’d become acquainted with at my bachelor party last night.
A sharp pain brought me back to the church. The little minx had dug her nails into my hand.
“This is the part where you need to say something,” she whispered.
I managed to respond to the priest, ignoring how much I’d liked her raspy voice. When it was her turn, she responded without emotion, and I wondered if she despised this marriage as much as I did.
Maybe this could benefit us both. We could come to some kind of agreement that made both us and our families happy.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest announced.
She lifted the veil, and the ground moved underneath my feet.
Fuck. Me. She’s gorgeous.
“Are you just going to stand there? This is the part where you kiss me,” she said under her breath, her green eyes shooting fire at me.
Her full lips drew my eye, and I imagined how good they’d look wrapped around my cock. Too bad this marriage was only on paper.
And then I drew her to me, crushing my mouth to hers.
