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He noticed I really liked his grandma’s wedding look with her sexy satin dress and the fur stole she was wrapped in. My dress isn’t satin or ivory like hers, it’s snow white with a much more modest cut, but he bought me a white fur mantle (ethically sourced, of course) to wear to our winter wedding. It completes the look and fits the theme—and the groom—perfectly. It’ll also keep me nice and warm when we’re leaving the ceremony and running to the car Hugh will have waiting for us once we’ve said our vows.
A burst of excitement wells up.
It’s happening.
It’s time.
We’re getting married today.
Crazy.
Good crazy, though. Just like the groom.
And the bride, too, I guess.
I smile at my reflection because the thought fuels no anxiety. I’m more at peace with myself than I’ve ever been, andmore than ready to commit the rest of my life to a man I met two months ago.
Let’s do this.
Time to become Mrs. Silvan Koch.
I leave the mirror and the bridal suite to join my seven pretend friends outside the doors to the room where everyone is gathered, waiting to watch me walk down the aisle.
Thatthought fuels some anxiety, but before I can worry too much about it, my new father-in-law steals my attention. His gaze flickers over me impassively, then he offers his arm. “Ready?”
I nod and swallow. “I think so.”
He’s still a little scary and maybe not my first choice of person to give me away at my wedding, but Melanie thought it would be nice, so here we both are.
“Any last words of wisdom?” I ask lightly.
“Try not to trip.”
I’m caught off guard by his joke, so a startled laugh slips out of me. “Got it. Excellent advice, thank you.”
“No need to pretend myadvicewill end at your wedding,” he says silkily. “You’re my family now. You’ll hear my input as often as I want to give it.”
That’s less funny because I know how true it is. I never thought I would marry a man with so many strings attached to him, but as volatile as they are, I really enjoy all of Silvan’s family. None of them are quite what they seem upon first impression and they’realla little scary, but I really do feel like I’ve been welcomed into the fold with open arms.
After all that “I’ll kill you if you step out of line” business anyway.
The girls go down the aisle ahead of us, and then it’s our turn.
The music swells, and a grin of anticipation splits my face, then I walk with Silvan’s dad to the mouth of the aisle.
I feel like a princess—on the arm of a scary king, on the way to my happily ever after with my own dark prince.
Silvan’s gaze hits mine and his chest puffs up. I can see his pleasure at the mere sight of me, and it fills me up with sheer joy.
So this is love.
I don’t feel any of the hundreds of eyes I know are trained on me. There’s no swell of self-consciousness or anxiety like I expected.
When he looks at me like that, it’s just me and Silvan, and that’s not scary.
I was unnerved anticipating it, though, and I’m overcome with emotion as I join Silvan on the altar. My hands tremble when he takes mine, but his hands are firm and steady.
Everyone takes their seat, and the pastor starts speaking, but it’s all white noise until we get to our vows.
