Page 4 of The Imperfect Marriage

I glance sideways at the man who decided to prolong the mockery of the situation by proposing to me. Why did he do that? Was it because he felt sorry for me? And am I seriously considering his proposal?

My heart somersaults into my throat. The blood pumps in my ears so loudly, I can barely hear myself think. It's good manners and the tightness of my wedding dress that keep me from fleeing down theaisle and away from this place. Marrying him? Marrying a complete stranger? That would be crazy… right?

But what's wrong with being crazy?I was jilted at the altar. That's crazy enough. But having a wild, sexy stranger propose to me directly afterward is even crazier. What if I do the craziest thing of all? What if I don’t run away screaming? But instead, say yes. Agree to marry a man I've never met before. A man who’s older than me. A man who looks fully capable of wringing pleasure from my body with his beautiful mouth and thick fingers and the equipment he’s packing.

Felix blinks, then follows my gaze to the stranger. His gaze widens as if he’s noticing the stranger for the first time. A weird light flares in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" He glares at the older man. "I didn’t invite you to my wedding."

They know each other?

"No way was I going to stay away. And I'm especially glad I didn't, after you decided to turn into a runway bridegroom," the older guy growls.

Felix winces. His gaze narrows, and he sets his jaw. "I don’t have to listen to this from someone who’s been an absent father most of my life."

"Father?" I gape at the stranger whose proposal I nearly accepted. "You’re his father?"

2

Quentin

I should step back. I should walk away. I can’t let my life be marked by this one move; I don’t need to do this. There are other women I can marry to fulfill Arthur’s condition, and without hurting my son further. It doesn’t have to be her.

It has to be her. No one else but her.

She looks from me to Felix, then back at me. Her gaze widens in surprise before she firms her lips. Her eyes flash. “What made you think it would be a good idea to propose to the woman your son almost married?” she spits out.

Felix reels back. “Y-you p-p-p-proposed to her?” he sputters.

"I’m trying to set right your wrongs," I say in a low voice. And for the first time in my life, I’m following my heart. Not since Felix’s mother left, have I felt this overwhelmed.

"'Tis some visitor. Tapping at my chamber door, only this and nothing more," I say without taking my gaze off her features.

"You’re quoting Poe?" She blinks.

My son makes a rude noise. "Of course, you’re quoting Poe. Always did have a nonsensical verse when you had no other excuses to offer."

"I didn’t mean to hurt you." I hear the words and cringe. Isn’t that what Felix just told her? And am I directing those words at her, or at my son?

My aunt shoulders her way through the onlookers, none of whom have yet left the church. They came to see a wedding and were awarded with the spectacle of something far more interesting. When she joins the group, there’s a look of trepidation on her face.

Among the crowd in the pews, I catch sight of my nephew Knox. He’s staring at me with a look of shock on his face.

An older man rolls down the aisle in his wheelchair and comes to a halt next to the woman I proposed to.

"What’s going on?" He scowls at me. "Did you propose to my daughter?"

My aunt’s face pales. She opens and shuts her mouth, as if she is having difficulty forming any words.

I turn away from her accusing stare and draw myself to my full height. "It’s true, I asked—" Shit. Shit. Shit. I don’t know her name, but given Felix called her Vivi… "Vivian to marry me," I say, as if I've known it all along. Going by the lack of surprise, I know I'm right. "No title defines something so pure. By any name, the feelings endure," I murmur.

Her forehead furrows. "Shakespeare," she whispers.

"Fucking Bard. You always did think you could use a verse to get away with anything," my son says in a bitter voice.

"Poems have no influence on me." Vivian tips up her chin.

"Then how did you know who I was quoting?" I allow my lips to twitch.

---