Page 67 of To Love a Sentry


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She smiled at him as her fingers played with the lacey bell sleeve. “I can’t believe you kept this.”

He moved up behind her and settled his hands on her hips, meeting her gaze in the reflection. “How many times do I have to tell you I always intended to bring you back?”

She would probably make him keep repeating it until it stopped giving her a thrill, honestly. But instead of saying that, she leaned into his strong chest and said, “I do feel bad that Mitzi and Darnel ended up putting off their engagement party. Are you sure this is acceptable for a marital ceremony?” The dresshadbeen designed with a different sort of party in mind.

He wound his arms around her and brushed a kiss over her temple. “The ceremony is formal, and afterward it’s basically just another high society ball.”

Rochelle giggled, her nerves vanishing. “Yes, you know how those happen every day.”

He rumbled and his lips connected with the back of her jaw. “More importantly, if we don’t leave for the ceremony, I’ll throw you back on that bed and take my time peeling this dress off of you.”

Heat flashed through her and Rochelle had to fight with herself to squirm out of his arms. Which was ultimately impossible, forcing her to resort to teleportation. She suspected he sometimes trapped her that way just to make sure she practiced, but she could never bring herself to complain. The way his eyes would flash as if she’d issued a challenge and he’d give chase, resorting in some often-questionable antics, was far too exciting to give up.

She’d never been in a relationship with a man who treated her the way he did, like she was both precious and more necessary than his next breath.

This time, he refrained from turning her escape into a game of catch—probably for the best—and together they headed downstairs. Darnel and Mitzi had ultimately canceled their engagement party, but Aric had upheld his original promise and allowed them to hold their big ceremony at his estate. It was another reason not to get carried away, she reminded herself.

The marital ceremony was held outside, in the main garden. Though it wasn’t the ideal season, Tinsley had made sure every single flower was in full bloom and that every bush was perfectly trimmed. The end result made for a beautiful backdrop on a warm, emotionally enriching day.

Rochelle had thought she might be uncomfortable in the crowd of mostly unfamiliar faces. Though the nasty looks, sneers, and insults she’d received during her first several months in the area had finally started dying down, established nobility had an unavoidable tendency to look down on “new” nobility. She hardly considered herself one, anyway, title or not. But as she stood in the forward most curved line to bear witness to her friends’ pledge of commitment to each other, half an arm’s reach from either Aric or Viveca, she found she didn’t feel out of place at all. And as she watched her new and dear friends, wrapped in fine silk robes with Darnel’s family crest embroidered over them, hold hands and speak their hearts in front of every witness, Rochelle felt more than a sense of belonging. She felt a pang of envy.

For the first time in her life, and though she had long believed she would never consider such a thing, she wanted the kind of commitment unfolding in front of her. She wanted a pledge of love and loyalty, a vow before their living loved ones and exposed to the watchful eyes of every ancestor that they would put each other before all else. Marriage in Yafae was primarily a contract of honor, upheld by one’s character and respected by the same. It worked because that was how they had built their society. The concept of paper certificates or even tangible rings to identify who was or was not married didn’t exist. Once the vow was made, sealed with a kiss and a momentary entrapping spiral of magic woven around their bodies, it was forever.

Rochelle wiped quietly at her cheeks as Mitzi and Darnel’s combined magic wrapped around them at the end of the ceremony. It held them physically together only for a moment, the faint discoloration of the air fading as quickly as it had appeared and allowing the newlyweds to ease apart. It was a beautiful scene.

Mitzi and Darnel linked arms and turned to look around at their audience, gathered in traditional arcs before them, staggered, so that everyone could see. Mitzi had tears in her eyes and a bright smile on her face, but Darnel’s smile was wider. Their happiness was undeniable.

The audience burst into applause.

Aric curved an arm around Rochelle’s back as the group moved in the wake of their guests of honor back toward the mansion, and the largest reception room which had been prepared for the occasion. They kept pace with the crowd, and the musicians Aric had hired for the event were already in place, ready to start on cue.

Rochelle watched the people mill around, took an early opportunity to personally congratulate her friends, and sampled an hors d’oeuvre or two. Aric had been right. She’d only been to one ball, though Aric assured her there would be more, and this part felt quite a lot like that had. It was a social event with gossiping on the peripheral, a few people drinking a little too much, and a lot of dancing.

“May I?” Aric stepped in front of her and held his hand out, waiting patiently, expectantly.

She smiled and slipped her hand into his. “I saw you dancing with Mitzi a few minutes ago.”

He smirked as he guided her onto the center of the floor. “Of course. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister.” He settled a hand over the small of her back, lacing the fingers of her other with his own. “Were you jealous?”

Rochelle let her free hand stretch up to his shoulder so her fingers could run along the collar of his nicer-than-usual button-up. “Maybe a bit.” She was teasing, of course. She had nothing to be jealous of.

“Hmm.” Aric pulled her flush against him and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Perhaps I should remind you what you do to me, then?”

She did her best to stifle a laugh and twisted her fingers in his shirt. “I’m sure you can wait a little longer. The party’s still early.”

The song segued into another, maintaining the slow-dance atmosphere.

Aric pressed his lips to the skin beneath Rochelle’s ear and murmured, “Perhaps you misunderstand.”

Curiosity and a tiny bit of trepidation sparked inside her, but before Rochelle could ease back enough to try and catch his gaze or ask a question, Aric himself moved to put a fraction of distance between them. He pulled her hand from his shoulder, kissed her knuckles, and locked his focus on her. The breath rushed from her lungs at the intensity of his stare.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” Aric said. He brought them to a standstill right there on the dance floor and released one of her hands to reach into his pocket. “There was a time I doubted I would ever find love. I convinced myself I was content with the life I led. Then you fell into my life, and it was as if my world took on an entirely new rainbow of colors I hadn’t known I was missing.”

Her throat swelled at his sweet words. In the back of her mind, she wondered why he was making a point of saying them in this moment—it wasn’t as if they hadn’t confessed their feelings to each other since she’d returned to the estate—but she could hardly focus on the thought. She certainly paid no attention to whoever had been swaying nearest them before he’d started speaking.

Then he lifted the hand he’d tucked out of sight, thumbing open a long, narrow box to reveal a breathtaking piece of jewelry. White gold swirling links formed a bracelet containing inset jewels of several clear, sparkling colors. It shone in the sunlight that filtered into the room, gleaming up at her from within the simple box. Rochelle had to drag in a breath to look away from the beautiful bracelet, excitement, confusion, and a building sense of something bigger bubbling inside her.

Aric smiled patiently. “I want you beside me, Rochelle,” he said quietly. “Our lives may be hectic at times, but there is no one I would rather have with me for the experience. No one I would rather come home to. So I am asking, Lady Rochelle Bailey, will you take me as your husband?”

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