Page 94 of Forbidden Dark Vows

Harry brings me coffee in bed before he leaves.

“You’re spoiling me.” I sip the steaming liquid and settle back against the pillows. I’m getting too used to this. I know that I’ll have to get a job eventually, after the wedding, but it would be so easy to be a kept woman, easier than I could’ve ever imagined.

“I’m never going to stop spoiling you, Ruby Jackson.” He leans closer and kisses the tip of my nose. “What do you want me to do if your mom calls again today?”

Mom has been calling Harry’s office every day—multiple times a day—since I left Chicago. I haven’t returned her calls or bothered listening to her messages. Lizzie said that my mom sounded angry when she discovered that my dad had been transferred, demanding that Harry or I return her calls.

I know that I’ll have to face her at the wedding if she comes, but I’m not ready to listen to more of her lies. Not yet.

“Nothing.” I smile at Harry. “I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Oh my God.”Melanie covers her face with both hands, peeping out at me over the top of her fingertips. “You look … beautiful, Ruby.”

The wedding gown I’m wearing has a heart-shaped boned bodice and flares out at the waist into a huge ball gown, covered in layers of frothy white tulle sprinkled with tiny diamantes. It isn’t the dress I would’ve chosen for myself, but I’ve tried on so many gowns now that my stomach is rumbling with hunger, and my legs are trembling.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror trying to suppress the memory of the terrible nightmare I suffered when I was sick. Seems I never really knew my own mind. This is the dress that Harry would’ve chosen for me given the opportunity, and now that I’m wearing it, I can see how utterly perfect it is. I feel … beautiful. Special.

I feel worthy of marrying a man like Harry Weiss.

“What do you think?” Melanie dabs her eyes with a tissue. “I know it isn’t what you were looking for.” She exchanges a glance with the bridal assistant as she fusses around the skirt, teasing the layers out to make it even wider.

I suck on my bottom lip, turning from side to side to view it from every angle. I only get to do this once, and I want it to be perfect.

In Gretna Green, I told Donna and Bill that I wanted to get married in a forest, surrounded by trees and sunlight and a gurgling stream, wearing a floaty floral dress fit for a fairy. I still think that it would be a wedding to remember, but I understand more clearly now that it isn’t only about me. As a child, I neverpictured the groom who would be standing by my side, and now that I have Harry, I want to give him the wedding of his dreams. I want to walk down the aisle in a dress that makes me feel special and makes him proud.

Which is why we’re getting married in a boutique Manhattan hotel overlooking the Rockefeller Center. The chandeliers are huge, the ballroom is elegant, and the salon will be the perfect setting for a dress like this.

“I…” I suck in a deep shaky breath. “I love it.”

The assistant smiles. “I think this dress has been waiting for you. It doesn’t even need any alterations.”

I choose a long, floor-length veil and a sparkling tiara, and arrange to collect it on the eve of the wedding. When we step outside the bridal store, I feel as if the world has changed. It has suddenly become a brighter place where the sun always shines, and good things do happen.

Melanie and I grab lunch in a Japanese restaurant where our food is cooked on a grill at the table. We talk about the wedding and try to guess where Harry is taking me for our honeymoon.

“The Bahamas.” I chew a mouthful of teriyaki salmon and swallow. “Or Mexico maybe.”

Melanie shakes her head. “If I know my brother, he’ll have booked the Seychelles or Bali or a private island that can only be reached by boat.”

I sip my wine and try to get my head around it. This was always my mom’s dream, to see me married to someone who had even heard of the Seychelles, whether I loved him or not, and I still can’t believe that this is going to be my life now.

Melanie hesitates, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What are you wearing on your feet?”

I instinctively glance at the floor. “Boots?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “On your wedding day.”

I grimace. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Right, next stop, every shoe store in town until we find a pair of shoes worthy of that dress. Call it my wedding gift to you.”

32

HARRY

Ruby is soexcited about the wedding that I haven’t told her what Carlos and I have been up to. Carlos managed to get hold of Ruby’s medical records from the hospital in Chicago—I didn’t ask how—and has been trying to locate the source of the compound used to poison her. It seems that Arsenic hasn’t been produced in the US since 1985, but Carlos knows a lot of people, the kind of people who know how to get hold of poison should they be in desperate need of bumping off someone unsavory.

So far, we’ve had no luck in tracing it to anyone with even a remote connection to either the Jacksons or my family. Whoever poisoned Ruby has covered their tracks well. Which, according to Carlos, suggests that we will know them when we find them.

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