Page 9 of Reckless Love

My mouth opened and snapped shut as my brain whirled. My name formed on his full lips with ease, his rough timbre sending a shiver down my spine. I smothered my reaction as I made sure to remind myself exactly what Warwick Forrester had taken from me.

This man had made it impossible for me to save my grandfather’s company. And I’m sure Ice by Winter wasn’t the only one. This man was clueless about how many small businesses he’d trampled on his path to success.

A tiny kernel of rage formed in my mind, an idea borne of anger and resentment.

He had no idea what he’d stolen from me.

But he would.

I plastered a smile to my face. “No. Just surprised.”

Removing my hand from Mr. Devane, I faced the man who had taken my grandfather’s legacy from me. My voice didn’t wobble once as I pledged the rest of my life to him.

The only thing I couldn’t control was the fine tremors that shook my fingers as Warwick slid a brilliant diamond and platinum band onto my left ring finger. Tears threatened as I realized I’d never wear a ring Papa had designed for me because this man had ruined that.

When the pastor announced us as husband and wife, I numbly lifted my face for him to kiss my lips. I braced myself for revulsion at his touch, but was shocked as his soft lips teased mine open, his hands holding my hips in a way that spoke of an intimate type of possession that had my toes curling.

I was gasping for air when he broke the kiss, giving me a soft smile that made his dark eyes seem to glow.

“Hello, wife,” he murmured as his friend and Mr. Devane politely clapped.

I tipped my head back. “Hello, husband.”

He leaned in to capture my lips again, and I let myself sink into the kiss because damn this man knew how to use his mouth. Hopefully that meant he knew how to do other things as well.

We were married now, and I planned on letting myself enjoy whatever I could from this union before I wrecked his life the same way he’d wrecked mine.

Four

“Smile,” the photographer called a second before a flash blinded me.

Blinking away white spots, I let my lips flatten and watched the photographer change lenses and positions for another shot.

After the ceremony, I’d been surprised when a man with a camera slung around his neck entered the room. I wasn’t under the illusion that this marriage was anything but a business exchange, so the fact that my new husband had arranged to have the wedding memorialized in digital form was surprising.

Warwick’s hand was warm on the small of my back. He’d patiently let the photographer pose us for the last fifteen minutes, but his jaw had grown increasingly tight as each second ticked by.

“All right.” The photographer smiled brightly. “Why don’t we?—”

“That’s enough,” Warwick announced, ending the photo shoot with a clipped tone.

I silently breathed a sigh of relief, exhausted from pretending to look happy for pictures I wasn’t even sure I’d want.

“Send the shots to my publicist,” Warwick added, dropping the arm around me and taking a step away as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “She’ll select the correct one for the announcement.”

Of course. This wasn’t about me. It was about New York’s most eligible bachelor telling society he’d gotten married.

“Of course, Mr. Forrester.” The photographer didn’t seem ruffled at all by my husband’s coolness as he packed his few supplies into a simple black bag. After he’d zipped it closed, he gave me a smile. “Congratulations.”

I gave a small nod, but Warwick didn’t comment. He was too busy typing out a message on his phone. He didn’t look up as the photographer left, or even when his friend and Mr. Devane stepped forward.

His friend pointedly cleared his throat. “Wick.”

My husband’s finger hovered over a button for a beat before he pressed it and pocketed his phone again. He glanced at me with a neutral expression that gave me zero insight into how he was feeling or dealing with what had just happened.

“I’m Andrew,” his friend finally said, extending a hand. “Andrew Jackson.”

“Like the President?” I asked, tilting my head as I shook his hand.

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