Sander caught the napkin and chucked it right back, proving his instincts were as honed as ever. “You're just sore you lost last night.”
Leander let the ball bounce off his shoulder. He snorted. “Your version of 'winning' and mine are two entirely different things.”
“Are we going to start this again? Because I know where it'll end up,” Mattias said, thumbing toward the side door to indicate the outside where the men had grappled before. “And then Wynn will rip your head off your shoulders Leander, and Chey will rip your—well. She won't be happy with you, Sander.”
Leander laughed along with Sander.
“I don't need to prove my point. I did that well enough last night,” Leander said.
“You sure did. The point that you need another few years of experience before you take on the big boys,” Sander said.
Just then, Gunnar poked his blonde head in the door. “I wanted to let you know her limo just pulled up.”
“Thanks, Gunnar.” Leander flashed the youngest Ahtissari brother a smile, then paced through the room.
The countdown was on.
. . .
“Just tilt your chin up a minute. I want to make sure there's nothing in your nose,” Chey said, using her fingers to gently guide Wynn's chin upward.
“This is ridiculous,” Wynn said with a laugh. “The Queen of Latvala is looking up my nose for unsightly visitors.”
“You don't want that in your pictures,” Chey said. “Okay, you're clear. Your make up looks good—no thanks to you. I had to smack your hands down three times just in the last mile.”
“I can't help it. My eyelids itch.”
“It's a nervous tic. Don't worry. Everything will go off without a hitch.” Chey disembarked the limousine, finally, followed by Krislin.
Wynn accepted her father's hand out of the car, keeping her bouquet in place. She smiled at her mother, who stood by looking proud but also ready to cry.
“Go on in, mom. Let the ushers get you seated.” Wynn traded cheek kisses with her mother, posed for a few pictures, then hooked her fingers under her father's elbow to head up the steps and inside to the foyer. Chey's assistants were there to carry the train, preventing it from dragging on the ground until she was inside. With the addition of the flower arrangements, the foyer looked every bit as beautiful as Wynn thought it would.
“How're you feeling?” her father asked.
Wynn glanced up into his eyes. “A little nervous. Mostly just about doing something silly, like tripping while we're walking down the aisle. And I hope he likes the dress.”
“You look beautiful. He'll love it.” Mister Hudson winked.
Wynn chuckled, warmed inside and out by her father's encouragement. It reminded her of Nathaniel, and the absence of Leander's mother. She wished things were different and that his parents could be here to partake of Leander's special day, too.
“Thanks, dad.”
A coordinator opened the inner door a crack to poke her head through. “All right, we're ready. Chey, Krislin, you two line up. Wynn, Mister Hudson, wait to the side. We'll close the doors after the bridesmaids go through, then open them again after the girls reach the altar.”
Wynn exchanged a poignant look and smile with Chey, then watched her best friend start down the aisle after Krislin. She drew a breath in, then released it. Leander was just through the doors, standing at the front, waiting for her. She conjured images in her head of what he might look like all decked out in a tuxedo, and wondered whether or not he was sweating because of the crowd.
The doors closed, muting the soft music playing in the church proper.
“Here we go,” her father said. He led her to the spot just before the doors, gave his suit a last glance, then stared straight ahead.
Wynn tilted over to kiss her dad on the cheek. She'd worn lipstick that wouldn't leave marks just for this purpose. He chuckled and cut a quick look at her.
“Okay. Whew. Just breathe, Wynn.” She gripped her bouquet and faced the doors.
The assistants flitted behind her, stretching the train gently to get rid of any wrinkles and creases.
“All right. Step together, like in practice,” the coordinator said, opening both doors.
The sight beyond took Wynn's breath away. Rows and rows of faces turned to look her way as the bridal march started. Large floral arrangements flanked the altar, the flowers fresh and bright and beautiful. Gauzy netting swooped along the stone walls, twinkle lights blinked throughout the ivy and there at the end of the aisle stood Leander. Taken aback by how handsome he was in his tuxedo, looking calm and confident, Wynn forgot about matching steps with her father.
“Walk, Wynn. Come on,” Mister Hudson goaded her.
Without breaking Leander's eye contact, Wynn started forward, luckily in stride with her dad. The dress whisked around her ankles with every step, feminine and pretty. Although she felt the need to glance at the upturned faces watching her walk down the aisle, Wynn couldn't look away from her fiance. The little curl at the corner's of his mouth enchanted her, as did the spark in his gaze. A spark she knew she'd put there.
At the end of the aisle, Wynn moved her fingers from her father's arm to Leander's hand when the words, “Who gives this bride?” hit the air. The transition affected Wynn more than she thought it would. Leander squeezed her fingers as Mister Hudson's, “Her mother and I” echoed through the room.
The rest of the ceremony was a whirlwind of sensation: Leander's hand in hers, the scent of his masculine cologne, a jolt of electricity through I Dos, cold metal on warm skin, and the gleam in Leander's eyes just before he stepped closer to kiss her. Applause cracked through the room, followed by cheers and a few wolf whistles.
Lost in the texture and warmth of Leander's mouth, Wynn returned his kiss, blushing by the time it was over.
Facing the crowd, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of noise and applause, Wynn laughed, hearing her name in conjunction with Leander's as man and wife for the first time.
“It's okay to breathe, you know,” Leander said at her side. His voice was just a whisper.
“You, too,” she teased, finally focusing in on a few of the guests as the photographer took pictures. She recognized many of Leander's 'friends', men she now knew had something to do with his secretive group. Their ladies were with them, sitting at their sides, all but glowing with happiness. Ahsan, Sessily, Chayton, Kate. Alannah was there, taking up space near Natalia. Some of the men she didn't recognize at all, and decided they were part of the group she hadn't met yet. Scanning the crowd, her gaze yanked back to a face in the front pew. She drew in a breath when she realized it was Nathaniel.
“Leander, your dad's here--”
“I know,” he said, letting her know there was more to the story.
Nathaniel smiled a tentative smile, as if he wasn't sure she would welcome him here.
Overcome with sudden emotion, Wynn smiled to reassure Leander's father that no matter what happened in his and Leander's past, he was welcome at their wedding. She didn't think for a second that the troubles were over for the father-son duo, but this was a life changing event that Nathaniel had one shot to witness.
Three feet down the same pew sat a brown haired woman, hands clasped in her lap, a tear trickling down her cheek. It was natural for Wynn to notice her, considering she was right in the front, a space usually reserved for parents or close loved ones of the bride and groom. She was middle-aged from what Wynn could see, with a rather clear complexion, few wrinkles and a slim build. The woman smiled when Wynn met her eyes.
Wynn smiled back, uncertain, then stepped forward when prompted by Leander. Apparently he'd had enough of standing in front of the crowd for photos. She reached out to several friends and loved ones on the way to the church doors, snaring a hug here, or a touch of hands there.
Outside, Wynn posed for more pictures on the steps, with and without Leander, and again with the church itself as a backdrop. She felt the tightening of muscles in Leander's arm
and soothed them away with a kiss to his cheek.
Then they circled around to the side of the church for yet more photos with the meadow and mountains as a backdrop, the ends of Wynn's veil whimsically rustling in the air. The bridesmaids and groomsmen arrived to join them, along with Wynn's parents.
It wasn't until Nathaniel, dressed in a fine suit of navy and white, hair combed, glasses in place, approached with the brown haired woman that Wynn nudged Leander.
“Who is that woman?”
“That's Isabelle. My mother.” He glanced aside, meeting Wynn's eyes.
“Your mom? But I thought you didn't have contact with her.” She searched his face, then looked away to the approaching couple.
“I'm close to my mom, actually. I just don't see her often. She travels and I'm gone all the time, so we stay in contact mostly by phone.”
That was the first Wynn had heard of it. Leander had been as vague about her as he'd been about his father. Perhaps because he worried that if she and his mother met, the truth about his father and their past would come out.
Wynn turned a smile on the two as Leander made introductions. “Dad, you already know Wynn. Mom, this is my wife. Wynn, Isabelle.”
Wynn hugged Isabelle, discovering Leander's mother to be the hugging type, too. “It's nice to meet you. I'm just sorry we haven't had a chance before now.”
“You too, sweetheart. Maybe I can come to Latvala again and spend some time with you both. After the honeymoon, of course.” Isabelle held Wynn at arm's length after the embrace, then switched to Leander, pulling him into a tighter hug.
“Hello.” Wynn greeted Nathaniel next. She wasn't sure what to expect. A handshake, hug, or simple smile.
“You're an extraordinary woman,” Nathaniel said, then stepped forward and pulled Wynn into a light embrace.
Wynn returned the gesture, swallowing down a knot in her throat. “Thank you. And I'm glad you came. I didn't think you'd be here.” Leaning back, Wynn met his eyes.
Nathaniel remained close, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I didn't think I would, either. Leander reached out, though, and I discovered that I wanted to be here.”
“He called you?” Wynn kept her voice low. Leander stood a few feet away with his mother in quiet conversation.
“He did. Apparently he called Isabelle, too. It's a good thing, although I suspect it's difficult for him to blend our world with his.” Nathaniel regarded Leander with a curious, contemplative expression.
“Maybe. I'm still glad he called. It's a big day.” Wynn followed Nathaniel's gaze. Leander studied Isabelle with an undeniably fond expression. For all intents and purposes, he seemed happy to have his immediate family here.
“Congratulations again,” Nathaniel said. He touched her elbow, stepped away to Isabelle's side, and eventually, after several pictures with the bride and groom, guided Isabelle toward the gathering crowd at the front of the church.
With a rare moment alone, Wynn switched her attention to Leander. “You didn't tell me you were inviting them.”
“I know. I debated over it for hours and hours, and finally called them. At the end of all things, we don't have Do Overs in this life, and I didn't want them to miss out,” he said, shifting to stand in front of her.
“Or us to miss out, either.”
“Yes.”
“Does this mean you'll have them in your life more often?” she asked. “I really like your mom.”
Leander quirked his lips, staring above her head off into the distance. “I don't know. My dad and I go through these phases. We try, we argue, then we don't talk for months. He won't change what he's doing and I can't abide it. But my mom—maybe. Maybe we can have her out now and then and go see her when time permits.”
“We'll go at your own pace. Whatever is comfortable. Hey.” She tapped his arm, bringing his gaze back to her own. “And if you can't make it work with your dad, then at least you tried. You have the memories of him here for your special occasion.”
“Yeah, I do. I wanted you to meet my mom at some point. Now is as good a time as any.”
“Last year would have been better. I thought you two were estranged all this time. There isn't anyone else in your life you've kept a secret, is there?” Wynn decided to press the issue and ask, rather than be surprised six months down the line.
He laughed. “No. No ex-wives or anything like that.”
“There better not be!” She laughed, too, and kissed him.
“There's all kinds of time for that. Let's get these photos over with.” Sander herded Chey and Mattias toward Leander and Wynn.
“I'll kiss my wife whenever I want to, old man. Hold your horses.” Leander shot Sander a devilish grin.
“I will throw you down, tuxedo or no,” Sander retorted.
“Hey, I can take the jacket off and--”
Wynn cut Leander off. “No, there is no wrestling on my wedding day! Now settle down and smile for the camera.”
Chapter Twenty
Converted for the reception, the Great Hall in the Ahtissari family seat sparkled and shined. The same color theme of white and cream from the church carried over here, with swags of satin on the castle walls, netting stretching from the corners of the ceiling to a large crystal chandelier, and more floral displays set on elaborate pedestals in every possible niche. China gleamed on the table tops, along with smaller bunches of flowers that added fresh spots of color.
Leander, more comfortable now that the guests were mingling and not focused intently upon him, regarded the gathering from his seat at the head table. Wynn was off with Chey and the girls, chatting no doubt about the decorations or the food—which had already been served and was excellent—or maybe even the upcoming honeymoon in the Caribbean. Alannah, Mattias's girlfriend, had joined the group, as well as Ahsan's girlfriend Sessily and Chayton's wife, Kate.
His attention shifted to the men, his brethren in the Royal Elite and those he considered blood brothers, amused to find their attention with the women. Chayton, a soon to be father, couldn't keep his eyes off his petite but very pregnant wife. A boy, apparently, to hear Chayton tell it. Ahsan coveted Sessily with his gaze and Mattias winked brazenly at Alannah. Sander made no bones about his possessiveness over Chey, flirting from a distance.
He remembered a time when they'd all been single, tearing up one town after another. Now they were falling one by one, taking vows and brides. Mattias hadn't made his engagement official yet, though Leander expected an announcement any time now that he knew Mattias had a ring. Ahsan as well. Chayton had gone from single to married to almost-a-dad in short order.
“It seems like you have a nice life here,” Nathaniel said, suddenly appearing at his side.
Leander looked over and glanced up. His father stared at the crowd, some dancing, some still eating, others conversing in groups. “I do. I've made it my permanent home. Wynn moved here to be near Chey, since they're inseparable, and I didn't want to take her away.”
“It's good to make sacrifices for those you love,” Nathaniel said with a catch in his voice.
Leander almost said that he wouldn't know anything about that, since his father had chosen work over his son, but caught himself in time. Instead, he said, “I'm learning early.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't make those for you when it mattered, Leander.”
“Hey, we all have to do what we have to do.” In an attempt to keep the peace on his wedding day, Leander added, “You're here now. There's sacrifice in that.”
Nathaniel smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “A selfish kind, I suppose. Are you feeling well? No effects from the agent?”
“I'm feeling just fine. And you never know. Maybe you'll accidentally stumble on the cure for one of the more horrible diseases that plague mankind.” Instead of creating ones that might potentially wipe out hundreds of thousands. He chose not to finish his thoughts aloud. The way his father tipped his head back and chuckled made Leander think he was about to say he already had devel
oped cures for one or two of those diseases.
Clearing his throat, looking down at his shoes instead of the ceiling, Nathaniel said, “Maybe.”
Standing up from his chair, Leander laid a hand on the back of his father's shoulder, then stepped away. He didn't trust himself with the topic of conversation. Searching out Wynn, he interrupted the gaggle of girls and led his wife to the dance floor, earning hoots and whistles from the crowd. Drawing her into his arms, he led her in a slow circle, thankful for the moderate beat.
“Having a good time?” he asked, looking down into her eyes.
“Yes. Are you? I saw you talking to your dad.”
“I'm having a great time,” he reassured her. The last thing he wanted her to worry about was his mood, or any tension between him and his father. Leander had departed the conversation before that could happen. “He's glad to be here, I think.”
“Good. Your mom seems to be having a good time with my parents.” Wynn glanced aside to a specific table.
Leander followed the direction of her gaze. Sure enough, Mister and Missus Hudson seemed to be having a vivacious conversation with his mother. “She's pretty easy to get along with.”
“Like mother, like son?”
He chuckled and looked down at Wynn. Even in modest heels she was notably shorter. “I'm more like her than I am him, in most things, anyway.”
“You're like him in that you're both driven to do what you want to do. Being motivated isn't a bad thing.”
“I'm motivated right now to sneak you out the side door and leave this party early.”
She laughed. “Oh no you don't. I haven't even tossed the bouquet yet.”
“How many other things do we have to do before we can go?” Leander knew, he just wanted to see Wynn's eyes get big and hear her get indignant.
“You can't be having that great of a time if you're already wanting to leave!”
Laughing, he pulled her closer. Right against his body. “Have I told you how much I like it when you get indignant?”
“Be careful, husband, or I'll turn Sander loose on you.”
Royal Elite: Leander Page 18