Page 232 of The Darkest Chase

“Damn right. And I’d do it again. Being headstrong, that’s one of your best traits.” His eyes twinkle. “You really do get that from me.”

I laugh. “At least I didn’t get your arrogance.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s truth, girl.” He grins. “Hope that man of yours is ready.”

“How’d he look?”

“Like a little boy on Christmas morning,” Grandpa reassures me. “You found yourself a good one, my darling. Hope he has the good sense to never let you go.”

Me too.

More than anything, I want Micah forever.

But the tenor of the music floating in from outside changes, dashing my thoughts.

It’s time.

My heart flips over.

Grandpa offers me his arm with wordless approval.

I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and pick up my pretty little bouquet of white roses and lilac rosebuds.

Together, we step outside into the glittering evening.

There’s snow everywhere.

People bundled up in warm coats over their fine outfits, sitting in the chairs flanking the flower-strewn aisle.

Silver and glitter and pale flowers everywhere.

Still Lake, partly frozen over behind the altar, snow shimmering along the icy sheets. It’s a winter wonderland just for me, so I can feel like the delicate winter princess gliding down the aisle.

And waiting for me at the end, my prince.

Micah may have spoiled me with his wedding outfit, but he looks so stunning it was worth it.

Cream-colored breeches hug his narrow hips and muscular thighs. Dashing black thigh-high leather riding boots. A matching cream-colored waistcoat over a billowing, stark white linen shirt, the waistcoat caging the linen against his broad shoulders and trim waist. The only color is the lilac rose corsage pinned to him and the subtle blue tint to his eyes.

Plus, the scarlet joy in his cheeks.

With his white hair slicked back, he looks rakish and unreal, this ice prince who’s warmed his heart enough to let me in.

Only, there’s nothing icy about the silver-blue eyes that land on me as I step into the moonlight.

There’s nothing but warmth as our gazes find each other and never let go.

I’m barely aware of walking down the aisle.

I feel like I’m floating on the love in his eyes, wrapped up in the sudden realization that this is happening.

The man I love waits for me right in front of a patiently smiling priest. In a few more minutes, we’ll be hitched.

I want to laugh.

I want to cry.

I’m definitely doing both by the time Grandpa leads me to the altar and kisses my cheek before letting me go.

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