by Fiona Cole
His wrinkles deepened with this frown like the weight of all we lost sat too heavy for him to bear. My nose burned when I forced myself to hold back from running into his arms. I wanted the man who’d threatened my prom date. I wanted the man who took me to a One Direction concert and even danced with me. I wanted the man who held me when I cried over losing Mama.
He looked like that man, but I knew he wasn’t, and I ached with the truth.
“You look beautiful, Verana.”
“Thank you,” I squeezed out past the lump choking me.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, taking a step forward, almost pleading.
“I want to.”
And there it was, the reminder of all we’d lost. His eyes slid closed, hiding the adoring love he may have had for me. When they opened, all that was left was the void of all that was missing.
A barrier to slide in place like it did in business meetings. His jaw snapped closed, and he swallowed, adjusting the sleeves on his jacket as he stood tall.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
Raelynn grumbled, but thankfully, stayed silent, getting in line.
My father linked his arm through mine, and I shut down all I’d lost, focusing on slow deep breaths, waiting for the bridal march.
“Maybe I can talk to your groom after the wedding. Business stuff.”
My eyes slid closed, controlling the flood of disappointment as the dream I’d had faded further away.
“Sure, Dad.”
The song started, and the doors parted, revealing the long nave lined with flowers and guests. The tall arched ceilings stretched above, making everything look so small. Each click of my heels against the tile vibrated up my body to my chest, making my heart skip a beat. The organ music filled the massive church and pressed in on my chest.
I began to shake but kept walking.
I was doing this.
It was happening.
If I turned and ran, would Raelynn follow? Would Austin hold everyone back? Would I make it to the car before Nico made it to me?
Nico.
I looked to the end of the aisle, and there he stood, stunning in a black tux. His hair styled to perfection, his beard trimmed shorter, framing his full lips perfectly.
I’m going to kiss you, Verana.
My heart stuttered for a whole new reason.
I met his dark eyes and took my first deep breath.
We were in this together. It may not be the marriage I dreamed of, but it was a partnership—one that I got to choose. One that I was safe in.
Sometimes Prince Charming is everything you need when you didn’t know you needed it.
Mama’s words wrapped around me, reminding me that just because she wasn’t here physically, didn’t mean she wasn’t with me always.
I didn’t look away from Nico the rest of the walk. He met us at the altar wall, and as soon as my hand slipped into his, I stood taller.
Before I knew it, my lips promised to be his, and his promised to be mine.
Before I knew it, the priest said, “You may kiss the bride.”
My heart thudded so hard, I wondered if Nico could see.
He lifted my veil, giving me the first clear view of flowers and candles. But I couldn’t look anywhere but him.
He leaned in, and I held my breath.
I’m going to kiss you, Verana.
“Are you sure?” he whispered inches from my lips.
I breathed a laugh, the question catching me so off guard. Meeting his eyes, I slicked my tongue across my bottom lip, loving the way he followed the movement and did the same to his own, and shrugged. “I guess.”
With a growl at my playful answer, he closed the gap and crashed his lips to mine. His long fingers spanned my waist, stretching up my back, getting tangled in my veil. He pulled me in, touching every part of our bodies together.
Our first kiss was on our wedding day, and it was just as indecent and passionate as our first night together.
It didn’t matter that there were over a hundred guests watching. It didn’t matter that we stood on one of the oldest altars in all of New York. It didn’t matter that a priest stood five feet away.
Nothing mattered except the feel of his lips moving on mine.
Nothing mattered except the fireworks shooting off throughout my body, bringing every inch to life.
Nothing mattered except how I didn’t want it to end.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burrowing my fingers into his hair, holding him just as tight as he held me.
His tongue flicked playfully against my lips, and I parted just enough for a taste.
Roaring applause crept past our bubble, and we slowed the kiss, both of us panting like we’d run a marathon—both of us looking a little shocked by the intensity that consumed us.
“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Rush.”
He linked his fingers with mine and smiled a smile full of victory and promise.
I smiled a challenge back and shook my head, letting him lead me down the aisle to the awaiting limo.
He helped me in and poured me a glass of champagne. With eyes scanning every inch of me, I took my first sip, the bubbles tickling my tongue.
“You look fucking beautiful, and you’re all mine,” he almost growled.
Heat bled into my cheeks. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind being called his. Surprisingly, I liked his coarse compliment.
Maybe it was the moment—the champagne, the kiss, the cheers, the limo, the dress and tux, or flowers. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. Euphoria and boldness had me scooting closer, looking him over before meeting his heavy-lidded stare.
“Am I?” I challenged softly. “Am I all yours?”
The pads of his fingers teased up my bare arm, playing with the lace strap against my shoulder before tracing the line down into my cleavage.
I didn’t stop him.
I sat still, breathing hard.
Want burned me from the inside out.
He set his glass aside, grabbing mine to do the same. His fingers traced the edge of my cheek, down my neck, and slid behind my head, holding me in place as he leaned in.
“Yes,” he answered, his hot breath against my lips. “You. Are. Mine.”
“Nico,” I said, a hollow effort to stop.
“Just…one more.”
This time, I closed the gap, feasting on his lips. This time there was no one around to stop us. There was no church to keep us in line. Only my stubborn pride and a dress entirely too large to straddle his lap like I wanted without it engulfing us both in the process.
Instead, we kissed. Our hands holding each other in place so we could taste every inch we’d only imagined for the last few months.
His tongue dueled with mine, and he gave as good as he got. Surprisingly, never once did his hands stray below my neck. It was like he wanted to indulge what I’d denied him for so long.
Part of me demanded I stop—to not give in.
And I would.
But not yet.
“Just for the limo ride,” I panted between drugging kisses.
He smiled, his look doubtful, but I didn’t care because he went right back to kissing me, and I wanted to take as much as I could before I forced myself to hold true to that promise.
However, my promise was useless when we got to the reception. Everyone tapped their silverware against their glass, huge smiles waiting for the newlyweds to kiss. And each time I tried for a peck, Nico held me in place to devour me. And each time, I gave in.
As soon as we finished eating, he linked his hand with mine. “I want you to meet someone. My grandpa,” he explained.
“Of course.”
I followed him to a broad man with white hair and the same mouth as Nico. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Nico would look like when he grew older—and if I’d get to see it.
“Grandpa, I’d like you to meet my wife, Verana. Verana, this is Charles.”
“Charlie, please.” He st
ood and took my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Although, Nico was supposed to bring you sooner,” he said with a glare at Nico.
Despite the look having no heat behind it, Nico still rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and looked away. I could imagine him as a little boy, getting in trouble and kicking at the dirt.
“I felt terrible to miss meeting you beforehand. Work has been fairly busy. Especially since we have such a long honeymoon planned.”
“Well, if he ever works too much, you can come visit me. I’m much better company, anyway,” he said with a wink.
“I’ll definitely make sure to do that. Do you like cards?”
“I may have been a bit of a shark in my day. I taught Nico everything he knows. Don’t let him swindle you into a game of poker. He’s better than he’ll pretend to be.”
“I may be a bit of a shark myself.”
“A woman after my own heart. Beautiful, smart, hardworking, and can put you in your place, Nicholas.”
“We’ll see about that,” Nico muttered, giving me a challenging stare. I gave one of my own, making a mental note to pick up a deck of cards for our honeymoon.
“Your grandma would have loved to be here,” he said to Nico. “Now, there was a shark. The prettiest, strongest woman I’d ever met. She held me up when I was weak and made our life what it was.”
“She would have loved Vera. Telling me she was smarter than I deserved,” Nico added.
Nico’s hand slipped around my waist and held me close, and I had to remind myself that this was what he got out of the marriage. A happy picture to portray to his ailing grandpa. He’d been attentive all day, but I had to remember that it wasn’t real.
“I can see how much you care for each other.”
I looked away, unsure of lying to an old man I’d grown to like in the short time we’d been chatting.
“Be kind to your hearts through it all. Love is a dangerous game with many rewards. So, when you have it, fight hard to keep it.” He looked down at the ring decorating my finger, probably remembering it on his wife’s finger. “It’s precious.”
His love filled the room and warmed me from the inside out. His was the love a girl dreamed about.
How a man like Nico—marrying a woman for convenience, full of arrogance, and missing a good dose of empathy—came from a man like Charles, I could never guess.
“We’ll do our best,” Nico promised.
“If not, you come to me, and I’ll knock him into shape,” Charlie promised with another wink.
“I look forward to it,” I said, smiling at Nico.
“Thanks, Grandpa. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“Nah, I raised you to be a good man, and I know you can take care of yourself.”
Nico stood a little taller, and for a bit, despite his towering frame, I saw a little boy, putting every ounce of pride in his spine, rising up under his grandpa’s praise. Charlie was a man Nico respected and loved, and it was a side I’d yet to see from him.
This wasn’t the arrogant businessman or the devious flirt—this was just a man—a good one. If I had a camera, I would have taken a picture and tucked it away to pull out when I wanted to imagine Nico as my prince charming. Instead, I tucked it away mentally, wanting to remember this softer side of him.
“Besides, I’m looking for any reason for this beautiful young woman to come visit me, so I can share all the ways to beat you at cards—I can tell you all his secrets.”
Nico stiffened, and Charlie laughed, softly smacking his hand against Nico’s chest. “Loosen up, Nicholas. You’re nervous like a girl bringing home her first boyfriend.”
Nico’s cheeks turned a ruddy color and leveled Charlie with a disapproving glare, but Charlie met him with one of his own. The duel stretched until it became abundantly clear another conversation took place without words.
Finally, Charlie broke the staring contest with a huff. “I won’t spill all your secrets.” Nico’s jaw twitched, and my eyes flicked back and forth like watching a tennis match. When the tension became almost too much to bear, Charlie winked at me and turned back into the flirt. “Not yet, at least. Although, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back telling Vera about the year you refused to wear pants.”
Nico groaned, and I laughed—the tension fading. But I pocketed away the staring contest next to all the other tidbits I’d learned about Nico, unable to ignore that maybe Charlie was hinting at secrets Nico didn’t want me to know. Part of me wanted to prod more and roll the information around to study it at all angles, but the ambiance around us had me saving it for another time.
That, and Charlie telling me more stories of Nico as a boy that had him reaching for a tumbler and trying to hide his blushing cheeks. I found it terribly adorable and promised Nico I’d never let him live the embarrassing stories down.
Soon after, Charlie left, and the night moved in a blur, people dancing and eating and laughing. Deals were made at the open bar as can only happen at a wedding with mostly business associates. Raelynn managed to drag Austin out on the floor and danced around him in a way that made him blush. I laughed when Austin danced with Nova, and Raelynn glared when she thought no one was watching.
By the end of the night, everyone was laughing and having fun. Nico—a surprisingly good dancer—twirled me around, pulling me right back into his arms.
Another round of clinking glasses at the end of the night had his lips on mine again. Only this time, when he pulled away, he hefted me in his arms. I yelped, holding on tight around his neck.
“It’s time to go, wife,” he whispered.
He made his way to the exit, nodding his farewell to everyone we passed.
“Nico. This is rude, and oh my god, what are they going to think?”
“That I’m taking my brand-new bride to our suite, so I can tear you out of this dress and fuck you as your husband.”
His words shot straight to my core, and I squirmed in his arms. His deep laugh rumbled like a promise of dirty things to come.
But I’d made a promise of my own to not sleep with him. I just hoped I could hold on to it.
All of a sudden, five years looked like an eternity.
Twenty-Four
Nico
Need pulsed with each step closer to our suite. I didn’t know if I’d make it to our room. Her light puffs of air against my neck. Her small hands holding tight to my shoulders. The soft weight of her body cradled in my arms.
I wanted to get to our room so I could have all of this, minus her dress, with her legs wrapped around my waist. Hard. Against a wall.
At least the first time.
The memory of her heat crowded my brain day and night. Especially having her curled up in bed beside me. And now she was my wife. I had a lifetime—or at least five years—to fuck her every way I wanted to.
I just had to make her admit she wanted it too. After all the drugging kisses from lips I’d imagined tasting from night one, I knew she was just as ready as I was.
I almost ordered the attendant to get the hell out of the elevator so I could tease her more, but Vera smiled and laughed with giddy wonder when he handed us each a glass of champagne and pushed the button for our floor.
“A good night?” the attendant asked.
“Yeah, it was,” Vera answered.
Her smile grew into something soft, and she looked down, biting her lip, like she could barely contain her genuine happiness.
A flicker of emotion that sparked in my chest when I’d caught my first glimpse of her walking down the aisle flared again. Small and unidentifiable.
Uncomfortable with the odd warmth, I focused on my pride—on the victory flooding my veins. Watching Lorenzo’s barely contained scowl as he escorted Vera to me had been icing on a cake I never imagined having. Even better because he didn’t even know he was handing his daughter over to his enemy. Yet.
Fortunately, he missed Grandpa at the ceremony, and Grandpa hadn’t
been well enough to stay long at the reception. Not that Lorenzo had stayed long after I shot down his attempt to talk business. Obviously, because his plan with Camden fell through, he looked at his next best cash horse. Part of me wanted to play him like he played my grandpa. But I didn’t want to play games. I wanted to hide in the shadows and slowly pick him apart until I could step forward with the direct blow.
Just like you’re being direct with Vera?
I shoved any guilt down and almost dragged her out of the elevator.
She said she wouldn’t sleep with me, but she also said she wouldn’t kiss me, and she’d had her lips on mine all night.
I held the door to the suite open, a round table in the middle of a small foyer with two doors on each side. A bottle of chilled champagne sat next to a bundle of red roses and candles.
“Wow,” she breathed.
Soft music played from the open doors on the left. Her dress rustled loudly, almost drowning out her gasp when she took in the room beyond. Red rose petals and candles covered every surface. With her hands to her chest, she spun, emitting a high-pitched sound of joy, making my lips twitch.
In her white dress—standing out among the deep red petals—the dim flicker of candles, and the New York City skyline twinkling through the corner of the windows behind her, she looked like a fairy tale.
“Oh my gosh. Nico.”
She said my name with wonder and joy—like she’d never said it before—and that flicker of warmth roared back. I looked around and stuffed my hands in my pockets, feigning a lack of interest as I took it in. “The hotel really goes all out for honeymoon suites.”
Of course, they went all out because I asked them to with very specific instructions to use buttercream scented candles and the deepest of red like the dress she wore to the masquerade party.
“Oh…” she said softly, her excitement fading.
The flare in my chest grew uncomfortably large with the way she looked at me, and I wanted it gone, so I let her think it wasn’t me, but the disappointment bothered me even more. And a disappointed Vera wouldn’t sleep with her husband. At least, that was my excuse, and the only reason I could understand why I uttered, “Dance with me.”