Page 21 of His Wild Attraction

Andres gave the two of us space to settle in. He even hired an interior designer who sat with the two of us and Sammy so we could choose things for his bedroom, turning the otherwise simple guest room into a little boy’s paradise.

“You don’t have to do all this,” I said.

“Of course, I do.”

“You are doing more than enough just giving us a place to stay.”

“I am not giving you a place to stay, Lupina. We will discuss that later. But being able to provide for you and Sammy is my pleasure. Don’t fight me on this.”

We never did discuss that later, but every day since, I’d thought about those words. I thought about everything he’d done and was going to do. Like marry me.

Still, I never expected a real wedding.

Complete with gown, tuxes, flowers, bridesmaids, the works.

I mean, his mother was there, for Christ’s sake.

It was too much.

It was amazing.

That Andres had quietly insisted on participating in the decorating touched something inside me.

I could almost allow myself to believe he was invested in this, in us.

But I put a lid on all that messy emotion really quick.

I just couldn’t afford to be charmed by my almost husband.

I had yet to discover his motivation for going along with all this craziness. But I wouldn’t fall for thinking it was because of me.

I’d made that mistake before. Whatever Andres wanted, I would gladly give him if I could. If it was my inheritance, fine. I would do anything to secure Sammy’s well-being.

Maybe he was doing this because he thought he would benefit since I was friends with the wives of wolves. The women married to his bosses.

That was what my brand new friend group jokingly referred to themselves as.

“Well? What’s that look for?” Meredith asked.

I closed my eyes, then met her questioning stare. Truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing, and I had to confide in someone.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

I bit my lip, chewing off the lipstick I’d just carefully applied. I stared at Meredith instead of my reflection because it was easier that way.

If I saw my wedding dress, it would just make me spiral all over again.

I didn’t know how he knew, but Andres had managed to get me the perfect dress. He’d sent a half dozen gowns in varying lengths and styles to the guest bedroom where I was sleeping until the wedding.

He’d said it was a sort of wedding gift. I never knew a husband to choose his wife’s gown, but Andres had impeccable taste. That he seemed to have an instinct for what I liked was just luck.

They’d all been beautiful.

All my size.

And none of them were white.

In fact, hardly any of them were what people considered appropriate for a wedding. But we were getting hitched on Halloween and it looked like Andres was a themed wedding kind of guy.

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