Page 110 of Reluctantly His

“That’s not usually how?—”

“I’m not looking for usual. There is nothing about this situation, or this woman, that is usual. The fact of the matter is—we need to be married for her safety. This is a matter of urgency. We need to be married immediately.”

The priest looked at us both for a moment, then focused on Charlotte. She looked so small in my arms, her eyes a little bloodshot and tired, her hair dripping on the carpet and streaks of blood on her arm and staining part of her patterned hospital gown.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” the priest asked. The way he disregarded me would usually get under my skin, and it did a little, but I knew he was trying to check on her well-being. I couldn’t fault him for that.

“She’s fine.”

“I’d like to hear it from her.” The priest wasn’t giving an inch.

“I will be fantastic as soon as I’m this man’s wife,” she said, giving him a bright smile.

One of the nurses started wiping the blood from her arm.

He still looked unsure. So, I tried something new for me: the diplomatic approach.

“We need to be married tonight. To show our gratitude for making this happen, we would be willing to make a $250,000 donation to fund the new pediatric oncology center.” I plastered an unnatural smile on my lips that just felt wrong.

“I doubt that you have?—”

The priest was cut off when one of the nurses ran to him and whispered in his ear, probably telling him who the bloody, damp, and still-stunning creature in my arms was.

“Well, okay then.” The priest motioned us over to the altar. The second I sat her down, two of the nurses surrounded her, wrapped her arm, and quickly put a dry gown over her soaking wet one.

As soon as we were done here, I planned on taking her up to her room and making sure she was dry and comfortable, but this had to be done now.

The priest uttered a few words about love, marriage, honor, and commitment, and I didn’t hear a word of it. Instead, I was staring at those gorgeous brown eyes looking up at me like I was her everything. And it just seemed so fitting because that was exactly what she was. She was my everything.

When she said, “I do,” my heart stopped for a moment, and a soothing warmth came over my body.

I realized with a start that I was happy. Not content, not entertained, amused, or even satisfied. I was actually happy. I didn’t think I’d ever felt that before.

It made sense that Charlotte was the one who had given me that feeling. That she was the one who made me feel complete. I didn’t have to travel the world anymore to find something to do. I was going to build a home and start a real life with this woman.

Once the priest said, “You may kiss the bride,” I leaned down, sealing my lips over hers, and she was holding me as tightly as I was holding her.

After the ceremony, I picked her back up again and brought her back to her hospital bed. The nurses asked that I step out for just a moment so that they could clean her up and get her into dry clothes. I wanted to do that by myself, but they needed to insert a new IV and check her over for any other injuries.

I stepped out of the room and stood guard at the door, not letting anyone else in, and dialed her father.

Lucian answered on the first ring. “Reid. You change your mind about my offer?”

I smirked as I looked over my shoulder at my wife, curled up under the covers of her hospital bed. “Not exactly.”

There was a long pause, then a sigh. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Just wanted to call and say hi… dad.”

“Charlotte married you? When?”

“Just now.”

“What? Some half-ass wedding in a cheap hospital chapel. I have news for you—son—God doesn’t have any rights in a New York court.”

“Maybe not, but we both know perception is everything. How would it look if the Irish Catholic Manwarrings didn’t recognize a union sanctioned by God?”

“You’re a real son-of-a-bitch, Reid,” he growled.

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