Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 64979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Soon-to-be Mrs. Hawkins.
My wife.
I watched in avid fascination at how gorgeous she truly was. How she stood out from everyone in the church, like she always did in our town. She was stunning, stealing all the air from my lungs without even trying. Her long blonde hair was pinned to the left side with loose curls framing her beautiful face. The neckline of her white lace wedding gown was low in the front, flawlessly framing her luscious body. The dress accentuated the curves of her petite yet curvy frame with a train at least twenty feet behind her.
She looked classy.
Proper.
Angelic.
Mine.
I was captivated by not only her beauty, but by the way she was stubbornly glaring at me as she walked down the aisle. Fully aware I was enjoying every second of her having to come to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. There was no denying the magnetic pull I felt with her mere presence.
It was a tightrope, my immediate possessiveness over her. Even after all this time, the desire to own from her mind to her heart, to every goddamn hole in her heavenly body was still there, alive and present, breathing new life into me. Each deliberate step she took brought her closer to our future.
To me.
For the last fifteen years, I’d lived and breathed Hawkins Industries. It was my entire life, and nothing came between that. I hadn’t seen her since the night I’d snuck in through her bedroom window, like I was still sixteen, to slide the ring on her finger. Now it was shining bright like a fucking beacon, fitting her perfectly like I knew it would. Despite not seeing her until now, it didn’t stop me from thinking about her. I craved the feel of her silky skin and longed for her addicting scent while counting down the days until I could claim her once again.
She felt it too.
It was why the seething glare on her face pointed openly in my direction. She wore it proudly. It was her defiance of what was to come…
Our marriage.
It was her shield.
Her guard.
A fucking wall she’d built the size of Texas.
Once she was standing in front of me, her father lifted her veil, and I sucked in a visible breath at her beauty. He kissed her cheek, then firmly placed her hands in my sturdy hold, handing her over to me. The significance meant more to me than she could ever know. I couldn’t help but find her reaction entertaining. It was evident she fucking hated me, and I couldn’t have cared less if I tried. Despite my lack of not giving a shit that she didn’t want to marry me, I wanted to show her I wasn’t her rival anymore.
In my last attempt at creating some sort of bridge between us, I spoke the truth, “You look gorgeous, kitten.”
She slightly blushed, evoking one of my favorite emotions out of her before she murmured, “You look nice too.”
I grabbed her hand, bringing it up to my lips to kiss it. The pulse on her wrist was beating fast against my fingers.
Unable to resist, I called her out on it. “Good to know I still make your heart race.”
She tried yanking her hand out of my grasp, but I held onto it tighter, wanting to prove my point that I still had an effect on her. I didn’t let go of her hand throughout the entire ceremony, rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. For the next hour, we had our traditional Southern wedding. My stubborn bride kept her concentrated stare on the minister. Her body was tense, and never once did she glance my way.
“Tristian,” the pastor announced, letting me know it was time for our vows. “Please repeat after me.”
I didn’t need to. I knew what I wanted and couldn’t live without anymore. Before he began, I turned to look deep into her eyes. With the back of my fingers, I caressed the side of her face, and she lightly gasped from my touch.
There was no hesitation on my part. “I, Tristian Hawkins, take you, Belle Montgomery, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death do us part, kitten,” I vowed, whether she wanted to believe it or not.
—Belle—
From the moment I stepped into the church, it was one thing after another. The guests in attendance, some I recognized, others I didn’t. I tried to pretend as if this was just another part of my job, sacrificing my life for the woman I’d become. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, the hours into what felt like days as I stood there with Tristian at the altar. I felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. He held my hand throughout the entire ceremony, grazing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion against my skin.