Page 118 of Betrothed
My own wedding.
In a fancy church with a couple hundred people watching me pledge my love and honor to a man for the rest of my life.
Everything about the event was completely ceremonial, awe inspiring in a way I hadn’t noticed before.
As I stood at the altar in front of the priest, everything around me fell into a complete vacuum. The people. The majesty of the church. The echo of the man’s words. I was locked onto Kirill, who seemed particularly nervous.
With Kazimir as his best man, the two made a formidable duo.
Every family member was here, my mother and father appearing stoic, my sister beaming while sitting next to her husband. Even he had a smile on his face.
But with soldiers positioned everywhere, the moment remained surreal.
And every single bit of the event was a charade, every person in the church seated on a powder keg. Enzo hadn’t been paying close enough attention, the surprise wedding announcement creating extreme tension between him and my uncle. Which had all been planned. It was all about whether he would take the bait.
My hands were shaking the entire time, right up until when the ring was slipped onto my finger. I’d challenged myself not to cry.
I failed.
Yet my knight in shining armor, my Russian prince jumped off script, rolling his knuckle through the salty beads. His act of chivalry continued with bringing his finger to his mouth. The entire church was watching as he accepted my tear.
And when the priest said he could kiss his bride, for the first time in my life I felt as if I was floating on air.
As soon as our lips were pulled apart, there was a collective cheer in the church. The music began and we found ourselves walking down the aisle, Kirill’s eyes scanning from side to side.
So far, there’d been no interruption, no concerns whatsoever.
With guards surrounding the limousine that would take us to the hotel where the reception was being held, I was once again reminded just how dangerous the situation was.
Kirill had his hand on my elbow, keeping his body pinned against mine.
“Do you think he’ll try here with so many people around us?” I asked as the limousine door was opened.
“No, but I won’t take any chances. Not with my wife.” As if to offer a photographic opportunity, he cupped my face, capturing my lips immediately. The taste of him was fresh and inviting, a little hint of peppermint thrown in with his testosterone.
Which was going strong. I sensed that by how rock hard he was.
The moment he swept his tongue inside, we were pelted with rose petals, people cheering. While the time stolen was surreal, I had the same sense of being watched that I’d felt a few days earlier.
I grasped the necklace, considering it my lifeline.
Kirill dipped me, my back arched while the kiss continued. When he finally allowed me to stand, his smile was pure evil.
“Come on,” he whispered. “We have a reception to get to.”
Within thirty seconds, the driver pulled away and we were headed to the hotel. Chateau Elegance had been transformed into a fantasyland. Or so I’d been told.
The whirlwind activity had kept me busy while Kirill had worked with Kazimir on ensuring they would have complete control over the wedding.
As I settled in, my heart racing, I fiddled with the necklace again.
“You need to relax,” he said with his quiet, determined voice.
“What if I can’t?”
He took my hand into his. “You’re shaking.”
“I know. I just have a bad feeling we’re missing something.”
