Page 19 of The Hero
Her skin was pink and glowing from the shower. She’d left off the blonde wig, and her hair was shiny and still a touch damp, with small tendrils curling in to frame her face. Their host had found a cream dress that fit Marlowe’s slight curves as if it had been made for her. A long sash draped over one of her shoulders and touched the floor. She was barefoot, and the sight of her tiny toes made the entire situation seem even more intimate.
“Hey,” she said uncertainly.
“Hey.” Bob turned to their host. “Can we have a moment before we start?”
The woman nodded, still beaming, and backed away, giving them a bit of privacy.
Bob turned back to Marlowe. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
Marlowe nodded. “You?”
“We don’t have to do this,” he said, not answering her question. The truth? He was suddenly more than okay. This was a strange situation—but he wasn’t upset in the least about having to marry this woman. If he’d been with anyone else, he would’ve found a way around what theywere about to do. But now, he was silently praying Marlowe wouldn’t take the final out he was giving her.
“She’s really excited,” Marlowe replied, her gaze going to their host hovering in the background, before returning to Bob’s. “This is going to sound crazy ... but after everything I’ve been through, after spending the last month in that prison, being yelled at, being shoved around, looked down at, spit on, slapped, kicked, and generally treated like crap ... it feels almost cathartic to be participating in something good. I just ...” Her voice faded as she struggled to find the right words to explain what she was feeling.
Bob reached out and put his hand on Marlowe’s cheek. His thumb brushed against her jawline. “I understand.” And he did. This woman deserved some goodness after what she’d experienced. He’d never believed she was the dangerous drug dealer the Thai authorities had tried to portray her as. And the longer he was around her, the more sure he became.
Their host asked them something from nearby, and Bob assumed she wanted to know if they were ready to start. But he wasn’t going to be rushed.
“You’re amazing, Marlowe,” he said earnestly. Any other woman in her shoes would probably be freaking out. Demanding he do something so they could stay and not have to get married. But she was stoic and determined and unwilling to complain, even when she had every right in the world to do so. She’d held up extremely well so far, and he couldn’t be prouder.
“I’m just me,” she said with a shrug.
“Let’s do this,” he said firmly. “Then we’ll eat something and get some sleep.”
Marlowe grinned. “Reception and honeymoon, huh?” she teased.
Bob chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.” He reluctantly dropped his hand and reached for her own. She wrapped her fingers around his without hesitation.
They turned to their host. “We’re ready,” he told her.
The woman beamed and gestured for them to follow. They went into a small room off the kitchen—and Bob blinked in surprise. The woman had been busy while they’d been cleaning up and getting dressed. There was an altar set up at one end of the room, and a man dressed in ceremonial garb stood there smiling at them.
“Holy cow,” Marlowe said under her breath. “How many weddings does this woman arrange, anyway?”
Bob wondered the same thing, but didn’t hesitate to step toward the officiant. He held on to Marlowe’s hand as the man immediately began speaking in Thai. Neither he nor Marlowe had any idea what was being said, but it didn’t matter. The feeling in the intimate space was momentous.
Bob turned to look down at Marlowe. Their gazes met, and he smiled. She didn’t look nervous in the least. She seemed calm and serene.
Marlowe squeezed his hand. This wasn’t the wedding Bob envisioned for himself. Hell, he’d begun to suspect he’d never get married at all, no matter how much he wanted to. But standing here with Marlowe felt so right. As if it was meant to be. The two of them against the world.
“Do you, Kendric, take this woman to be your wife, to have and hold from now to forever, for better and worse, for rich and poor, when sick and healthy, to love and protect, cherish and honor, respect and nurture, in this life and the next?”
Bob jerked his gaze to the officiant. Honestly, he’d tuned the man out since he previously hadn’t understood a word. But now he spoke in English, prompting him to agree to the sacred vows of marriage. They were a little different from the traditional vows back in the States, but just as meaningful. “I do,” he blurted, not wanting Marlowe to think he was having second thoughts.
The officiant turned to Marlowe. “Do you, Marlowe, take this man to be your husband, to have and hold from now to forever, for better and worse, for rich and poor, when sick and healthy, to love and protect, cherish and honor, respect and nurture, in this life and the next?”
“I do,” she said softly.
The officiant began speaking in Thai once more. Bob’s gaze never left Marlowe’s. He already felt different. Which was ridiculous. Fancy clothes and a Buddhist officiant didn’t necessarily tie their lives together forever.
This wedding was for show. For convenience, so he didn’t have to venture out and find somewhere else for them to rest for the day. To allow them to stay together. But deep down, Bob felt the connection he had with Marlowe solidify even more. His determination to get her safely out of Thailand and back home to her brother even stronger.
The officiant cleared his throat, and when Bob looked at him, he smiled, nodded, and said, “You may kiss.”
Bob turned back to Marlowe. She was smiling. He lowered his head without a second thought. Their lips brushed together lightly, once, twice.
Then Bob wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him and kissing Marlowe like he’d longed to do again, ever since that first night.
