Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
As does the loss of my wedding day. My real wedding day. The one I’m supposed to share with a man I am giddy in love with, not the man I can barely stand the sight of… even if it is hard to keep my hands off him sometimes.
My cheeks grow hot when I think about just how often that is.
“You look stunning,” Imogen says, picking up the bridal bouquet off the table. “No, you look more than stunning. You look phenomenal.” She grins cheekily. “Nico is going to pop something when he sees you walk down that aisle.”
I haven’t told Imogen about the sex with Nico. I guess it’s because the situation is already complicated enough without involving someone else. And until I know what any of it really means, it’s best to keep my mouth shut.
“He’s too grumpy to pop anything,” I say.
“Well, that ends today. If that boy doesn’t cry when he sees you, then he’s a robot.”
“He is a robot. A grumpy robot monster with no feelings.”
She smiles wickedly. “I think you’re wrong. Under all that stony facade and alpha male manliness is a man smoldering with feelings and lust and needs.” She sighs. “If you weren’t already marrying him, I’d offer myself to him on a platter.”
I hold out my bridal bouquet to her. “Great, you meet him at the end of the aisle, then.”
She gives me a pointed look. She doesn’t really want Nico. This is her way of telling me I’m going to be okay. Hey, if it was me, I would jump.
Her expression grows serious. “I’m pretty sure there’s only one girl he wants to see at the end of that aisle when the music starts.” It’s not often my flighty best friend gets sentimental, but I hear it in her tone as she says, “He’s a very lucky man, I want you to remember that.” Tears well in her eyes, then she adds, “And if he hurts you, then I’m going staple his balls to my car’s bumper and drive around the block. It’ll just take one phone call from my best friend, you got it?”
I laugh and pull her in for a hug. “Got it.”
No matter what happens, I know I have Imogen in my corner.
“Are you ready to do this?” she asks, stepping back.
I let out another shaky breath, my pulse racing.
It’s a business deal.
“Might as well jump in feet first,” I say. Taking the bouquet from Imogen, I give my best friend a nervous smile. “Let’s do this.”
As far as weddings go, mine is as chilly as the North Pole in a blizzard.
The tension in the air is palpable, the temperature cold and hard.
The threat of danger simmers beneath the surface.
The ceremony takes place on the terrace of the Stone Mill in the New York Botanical Gardens.
A blue carpet serves as an aisle that leads me away from my old life and toward my husband to be.
On one side are the Isle Ciccula and their soldiers.
On the other are the De Kysa and their soldiers.
Walking down the aisle with my father, it feels as safe as swimming in a pool of great white sharks.
I know my father is wearing Kevlar beneath his suit jacket, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Gio De Kysa is too.
Nico, however, seems cool and calm as he waits for me at the end of the aisle. I know for a fact he isn’t wearing anything under that custom suit and crisp white shirt of his, because it is tailored to perfection against his powerful body and leaves no room for armor.
When the marriage celebrant asks who gives this bride, my father bristles and murders Nico with his eyes. A warning of what will come if anything should happen to me, forcing me to squeeze his hand reassuringly to let him know it is okay.
I’m in safe hands.
I think.
Nico’s gaze sweeps over me with approval and lust-soaked eyes. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.”
A smile tugs on his full lips. “This is where you say I look stunning too.”
I raise an eyebrow and shrug. “I mean, you look okay.”
I’m downplaying it because he looks fucking gorgeous.
Slicked-back hair. Trimmed beard. Sharp jaw. Long lashes.
One perfect dark brow pops up. “Just okay? I’m fucking hot, and you know it.”
He grins. Sometimes I think he says things because he knows I’ll fight him, and he gets off on my retorts. But I don’t. Instead, I look away because the twinkle in his eyes makes me nervous, and I look back at the crowd, and the sea of Mafia faces sends a new wave of anxiety through me.
Nico takes my hands in his, and I’m startled by the strength I feel in them. It’s then I realize that mine are shaking.
I take another nervous glance over my shoulder at the two rivals continuing to glare at one another across the aisle.