Page 53 of Mr. Monroe

I eyed Spencer’s raised eyebrows as he sat back, sipped his wine, and offered me a shrug to tell me to be a good fake sister-in-law.

I stood from the table and moved with the little girl, her black curls bouncing in her excitement, as she led me to where all the women had gathered in front of the stage. Nonna was the only one who’d stayed out of the crush, sitting at a table nearby and watching with an entertained look on her face.

Nadia, in her stunning white gown, cut perfectly to her narrow frame out of Chantilly lace, showing off her delicate shoulders with its strapless cut, signaled to the drummer on the stage. The drumroll started, and Nadia turned, facing her back to the audience as she brought the bunch of white roses and lemon blossom above her head in one fake-out, and then a second.

Finally, she sent it flying backward with an impressive toss, and as it sailed above our heads, I put my hands up out of pure instinct. And yet, no one could’ve been more surprised than me when the bouquet landed squarely in my hands, as if it had been magnetically drawn to me.

What are the fucking odds? I thought as my mouth popped open in horror, but I immediately covered that look and masked it with a surprised one. I barely heard the cheers of excitement as I turned to look at Spencer.

The sharply dressed, handsome man was sitting back casually and slowly clapping, amused as only he and I could be since we knew the truth about my marital status and the implications of catching the bouquet. Spencer looked as though he was barely holding in a laugh, and I couldn’t help gasping one out as I met his eyes.

I turned away and bent down to face Becca, who was fighting a look of disappointment. Without a second thought, I gently placed the flowers into the little girl’s hands, making her happier than the bride at that moment.

“I think these are yours,” I said.

“Will they work, though?” she asked, looking up at me with concern. “I didn’t catch them.”

“Of course they will,” I said. “I caught them, and I’m passing their magic to you. But you still have a few years before you’ll need the magic they offer beautiful young girls like you.”

She looked satisfied, and Sloane gave me a grateful smile as Becca pranced over to her, holding the bouquet above her head.

I turned around and walked over to where Spencer was standing next to the table with his hand clasped on the back of the chair before he caught me around the waist and pulled me into the circle of his arms.

“I love what you did for Becca,” he said as he leaned in to kiss me on the pulse point that he always managed to find. “I’m not sure whether to be here with you and sweep you into a dance or to sneak you away from all of this. I’m thinking the latter.”

I looked up into his dark eyes, which seemed to smolder like slow, hot coals, and, just as slowly as he’d placed his mouth on my neck, I splayed my fingers over his chest and pressed in, satisfied at the slight hiss of air I heard coming from him. “I don’t think you’re bold enough just to sneak off,” I taunted him in a low tone.

He met my eyes with a satisfied grin before taking my hand and leading me away from the dance floor, quickly pulling me after him over the expansive lawn and back toward the house. My desire for him settled into my belly, hot and heavy like a burning stone.

“Wait,” I said, pulling hard on his hand and feeling the heavy silk of my skirt flutter around my feet as we stopped. He raised his eyebrow at me, but I brought him up so that his body was flush against mine. I indicated the small passage in the garden wall that made an old-fashioned labyrinth, which Becca had shown me around on my first day. “In there.”

His grin grew, and he leaned down. I would’ve let him lift my dress and fuck me right there if it hadn’t been for the crash of the cymbals behind us, breaking us apart.

“Come on,” he said, leading me down the path. It was softly lit with small lamps set into the footpath, but for the most part, it was dark, draped slightly with tiny lights overhead. The two of us tripped eagerly down the path, finding our way to the middle of the labyrinth, where I knew there were a few benches.

The house staff had been there earlier, setting small cushions on the benches surrounding the tall Carrara marble statue of the crowned angel in the middle of the garden.

I pushed him down onto the bench before I climbed into his lap, practically devouring his mouth as I leaned into him. He snuck his hands up my back, dragging his fingers over the zipper at the back of the dress. Sneaking off like this and away from the small wedding crowd spiked an adrenaline rush that I could appreciate.

I pulled Spencer’s hands away from my back, placing them back on my legs. “Don’t,” I said, breathing heavily. “It’s hell to figure out the clasp and zipper on this dress. You can unzip it slowly all you want later, but I don’t want the entire wedding party knowing we sneaked off to fuck.”

“Oh?” a coldly amused voice said from behind us, freezing Spencer’s hands in their tracks halfway up my thighs. “I don’t doubt they would know. It’s easy to spot a whore from a mile away; when you know what to look for, that is.”

I pulled away from Spencer, the lust stopping dead on his face as he turned to where Heidi stood imperiously, hands crossed over her chest with a sneer painted on her face.

“How dare you?” she said, and I couldn’t tell which one of us she was addressing. “How dare you make such a display of yourself at my son’s wedding? I’ve never seen such vile conduct.”

“I highly doubt that,” Spencer said, gently lifting me off his lap and moving me to the bench next to him as he settled the skirt, helping me as I tried to become presentable again. “But that begs the question—if you were so disgusted, why would you follow us unless you wanted a show, Heidi?”

“You may think it gets under my skin when you call me by my name, but it doesn’t affect me in the slightest. Nothing you do has ever affected me one way or the other, Spencer. You’ve always been the one I could count on to disappoint,” she spat. “And, to answer your question, I wanted to see exactly who you brought home to us, my dear boy. You’ve always thought you were the smartest and the brightest, but you’ve shown everyone here that is a flagrant lie. Just look at her,” she nodded in my direction. The look on her face was disarming. It was like she was getting some very sick pleasure from insulting me and her son instead of being offended like she was pretending to be. It was almost as if she’d been looking forward to this inevitably happening. “You may as well have picked her up at an orphanage. You are so proud that she’s independent; well, I see nothing more than a girl who was clearly neglected as a child, prancing around, trying to get attention from anyone who’ll give it. How could you disgrace yourself so? I expected better from you, Spencer, although I have no idea why. As always, you’ve come up short. I even brought—”

“Oh, I saw who you brought, Mum,” he answered.

I felt ill. I’d always prided myself in being able to withstand any insult, but the words this woman had spewed in my direction struck my most sensitive nerve, and I felt the pain acutely.

I didn’t know what kind of demented game this woman was playing, but I wanted no part. I’d done my best to stick up for myself since I’d arrived, letting her words slide off me, but as I watched this scene unfold, I knew something was seriously twisted.

She enjoyed inflicting pain. She was good at it.

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