Page 57 of Savage Games

His dominating energy.

I missed the flutter I got whenever he looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes that matched the sapphire in my ring.

Damn, I had it bad for this man.

Sometimes he scared me to death with his intensity and the scope of his games, but other times I couldn’t imagine a life without him.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Of course. Richard loved his surprises. I wished I could say the same.

We took the armored car flanked by at least four security vehicles. Richard was taking no chances as the cars navigated traffic around London. Eventually we pulled up to a very familiar sight, Westminster Abbey.

Reaching for his hand as I alighted from the car, I asked, “Are you playing tour guide today?”

“You’ll see,” came his enigmatic response.

Walking past a sign that read ‘closed for a private event,’ Richard swung open one of the massive wooden double doors and we entered the cool, dark interior.

It was hard not to be awestruck by the imposing Gothic cathedral. The stunning vaulted ceiling and all the glorious gold and marble that seemed to gleam even in the shadowed space.

Standing by the Grave of the Unknown Warrior, which was surrounded by bright red poppies, was a gentleman dressed in a brown tweed suit. He looked small. It suddenly occurred to me that all men looked small compared to Richard. It wasn’t just his height. It was the way he commanded a room and the respect of everyone in it. Something I believed had very little to do with just his exalted title.

The man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Your Grace, it is an honor.”

“Mr. Simmons, may I introduce my fiancée, Miss Elizabeth Larkin.”

Mr. Simmons shook my hand, his grip clammy and weak.

“If you would be so kind as to follow me,” said Mr. Simmons as he led the way down the center aisle. We walked past several workers who were setting up large floral arrangements of pink roses and orange blossoms.

With my arm looped through his, I squeezed his forearm in delight. “Look at the flowers, Richard! I love pink roses and the orange blossoms are beautiful! This would be the perfect arrangement for our wedding. We should see who the florist is.”

Richard only smiled.

Mr. Simmons led us down a marble white and black checkered aisle to the high altar.

“This is where the ceremony will take place. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh will be seated right over there.”

He was talking about our wedding.

Our wedding.

Our wedding with the queen in attendance.

My steps faltered.

“Given the… ah,” Mr. Simmons cleared his throat and finished, “urgency, it will only be the primary royal family in attendance. The service will begin with a fanfare by the state trumpeters of the household of the cavalry for the arrival of the queen.”

I could feel Richard’s gaze on me but couldn’t look up. At this moment, the only thing I could do was concentrate on painfully sucking air into my lungs as the room spun.

Mr. Simmons continued to drone on. “Might I humbly recommend a seven-piece orchestral rendition of Sir Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s ‘Bridal March’ from The Birds? Princess Catherine processed to that piece of music for her own wedding and it was very well received.”

The marble-tiled floor swirled and danced before my eyes.

“As for the hymns during the wedding service, I have a few suggestions.”

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