Page 6 of Urgent Vows
The priest asks for quiet so he can begin. The renewed whispers and rustling movements stop.
He starts the ceremony and after the opening prayer, Severu leads me over to the wedding bench on the left side of the altar. We sit in the pew designed for two people, while his brother joins their mother in the front pew on the groom's side.
During the homily the priest talks about the sanctity of marriage and what it means to submit one to the other. It's an interesting choice for a mafia wedding. I don't think Severu has ever considered the idea of submitting in any way to his wife, but I'm sure he's got lots of ideas on how the reverse should be handled.
Sir, indeed.
I'm not sure how submissive I am after the last fifteen years dealing with my father. I've been practicing quiet subversion of his authority and dictates whenever I can since my mother's body landed on top of mine at the bottom of the stairs because he struck her.
We return to the altar and stand before the priest for the Celebration of Matrimony. Severu speaks his vows in a confident, deep voice, that I'm sure even the guests at the very back of the church can hear clearly. Awed by the moment, my heart in my throat, I speak mine in a much quieter voice, but with no less commitment.
When it is time for the exchange of rings, I quietly panic. But I don't need to. The circle of diamonds meant for my sister to wear with her engagement ring is the one item that fits perfectly. We both have our mother's long, slender fingers, ideal for playing the piano. Severu brushes over the ring with his fingertip, seemingly happy to see it on my finger.
I choke up with unexpected emotion when it's my turn to put his on and my voice shakes as I speak my vow. "With this ring, I thee wed."
Whatever the priest says after is muffled in my head until it is time for communion. Then I watch with strange fascination as Severu drinks from the cup first, before offering it to me. He does the same with the wafer. It feels incredibly intimate. The priest seems flustered by Severu's actions, but he doesn't protest them.
After the nuptial blessing, he pronounces us man and wife and gives Severu permission to kiss the bride.
Severu turns me to face him and then cups the back of my head with one hand, while sliding the other around my waist, above my full skirt and pulls my body flush with his. I gasp at the near full body contact that I've never before experienced with a man, and his mouth slams down on mine, his tongue sweeping past my lips parted in shock.
It is no chaste kiss meant for a wedding. His mouth claims mine and my body goes up in a blaze of sensation.
I grab the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, holding myself up and pulling him closer at the same time. I have never kissed a man, but my lips instinctively mirror the movements of his and I am lost to a world he has created where only we exist.
He ends the kiss and steps back. I do not let go of his jacket. He smiles. "Later,cara."
I nod, though I don't know what I'm agreeing to. I'm still lost in the fog of desire created by his lips on mine.
When he begins to gently remove my fingers from his tuxedo, I come back to myself. Mortified, I let go immediately, not wanting to look out over our wedding guests and see the humor that is no doubt on several faces. I step back, but trip on the overlong skirt of my gown.
He doesn't let me fall but sweeps me up into his arms and begins to walk down the aisle toward the back of the church.
"You can put me down," I say with embarrassment. "I can walk."
"I like carrying you."
I'm not sure how to respond to that and my hip is already hurting from all the standing in heels during the wedding. My mom's life wasn't the only thing shattered by that fall down the stairs so long ago.
My hip was too, and it has never been the same.
So, I wrap my arms around Severu's neck and let myself enjoy being carried like a princess.
Chapter 3
SEVERU
Two bodyguards walking in front of us and two behind, I carry my new wife out to the waiting armored car. Carlotta had wanted a limousine, but it was the one thing I vetoed.
Safety is more important than living out a girlish fantasy. Does Catalina care that we are riding to our reception in my Mercedes SUV instead of a limo?
She is silent, staring out the tinted windows and I can't tell what she's thinking from the look on her face.
"How are you feeling?" I do not forget the way Catalina winced when she tried to shrug. Throughout the wedding, she showed brief moments of pain, quickly masking her reactions.
Her head turns and her hazel gaze locks on mine. "About the wedding?" she asks, confusion lacing her voice.
"From what your father did to you beforehand."
