Page 84 of Borrowed Bride

It’s the simplest question and perhaps the hardest one to answer in this moment. I stand dressed in an elegant wedding dress that is a thousand times prettier than my last one.

The ivory fabric flows over my body like silk, hugging my five-month pregnancy bump. Elegant lace roses stretch across the entire fabric, shimmering so much when they catch the light that there’s something almost ethereal about the dress. With a low-cut neckline and a deep plunging back, I feel incredibly beautiful and feminine.

This is amazing, considering my life has become nothing but terrible morning sickness and more with this pregnancy. In comparison, Freya was a delight to carry because my current baby seems intent on making me feel unwell as often as possible. I slide one hand over my bump while Cherry comes into view in the mirror, adding the final few sparkling white mini roses to my curled hair.

Tara, the one who asked the question, looks up from where she’s sorting out the zipper on Freya’s flower girl dress and repeats, “Are you nervous?”

“I think so,” I say, smoothing one hand over my bump. “But not to be married. I’m more nervous that something is going to happen that I can’t control, y’know? Everything has been okay so far, smooth sailing with setting up the house and planning the wedding, so I feel like I’m due some sort of reality check.”

“That’s it,” Tara says sweetly to Freya as she hands her the basket of rose petals, then she stands and takes my hands in her. “Gianna. Nothing is going to happen. I promise. Leonardo has this hotel on lockdown, Fawn will kill anyone who looks at you wrong and we are all here to help you. You are going to get the beautiful day you deserve and it’s going to be amazing. I promise you.”

As she speaks, my eyes fill with tears and I nod along to her final words. “Then why do I feel so on edge?”

“Because you’re about to get married,” says Cherry, adjusting my curls with her long fingers. “And that’s kind of terrifying.”

I clutch at both their hands and squeeze. “Thank you so much for being here. I just…When I think of walking down that aisle toward Marco, I feel so insanely calm. It’s just if I consider everything else that I start to get a bit…” Rolling my eyes, I puff air up toward the few soft curls around my forehead.

“Just focus on Marco,” Tara instructs. “You will do amazing.”

The door behind us opens and in walks Fawn wearing a beautiful emerald dress and carrying a bouquet of blue roses. She waves Tara and Cherry away and they say their goodbyes while escorting Freya out.

“Here,” Fawn says as she hands me the flowers. “Your something blue. And this…” Fawn removes a small silver hairpin from her hand and presses it into my own. “Your something borrowed.”

“Thank you,” I say softly, widening my eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. “This is it. This is really it.”

“Yup.” Fawn smiles at me. In these past months, she’s really come out of her shell. She’s still an assassin; she just smiles now, which sometimes can be just as creepy. “Five minutes and we’ll be ready.”

“Can I have a minute?” I ask as Fawn steps back. “I just need to gather myself.”

Fawn clutches my bare shoulder and squeezes. “Take all the time you need.” With that, she steps out and I’m left alone in the room. Turning back to the mirror, I take myself in. It’s a battle to stop the tears from ruining my carefully applied makeup, so I focus on the shimmery fabric on my dress and turn slowly back and forth.

I can do this. I want to do this.

I’m just scared of what comes after. Nothing in my life has ever been this good which means it’s surely not going to last…right?

The door squeaks softly and I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Fawn. Instead, I spot Marco and my hands fly to my dress. “Marco! You’re not supposed to see me!”

“Oh please,” Marco laughs. “We are far from traditional. I’m sorry, I was so excited I couldn’t wait to see you. Holy shit, Gianna.” He steps forward, his face completely open in awe. “You look incredible.”

“You think so?” I give him a little twirl and laugh, then reach for his outstretched hand. “I think I look alright. “You though…” I whistle softly as I gaze down at his gorgeous gray suit with a blue shirt and rose that matches my own. “You look so handsome.”

“Only for you,” he smiles, then his brow knits together. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m excited,” I say softly. “And nervous.”

“About the ceremony?”

“No, about what comes after. It all feels too good to be true y’know?” I force a deeper breath. “But it’s a wedding, and we’re supposed to be nervous.”

“True,” Marco murmurs and he kisses me delicately on the lips. “I know how to make you less nervous, though.”

“Oh?” I say. “Does it involve spoiling my makeup because Cherry might kill you if you do that.”

“Nah,” Marco smirks. “I have a much better idea.”

“Marco, what are you…?!” Before I can stop him, my fiancé drops to his knees and slides under my dress while grasping my hips and pressing me back against the wall. My heart immediately starts to race as I stumble beside the mirror and hit the wall. He pins me in place, then grasps one of my legs and hoists it over his shoulder so that I am completely at his mercy.

“Marco!” I whine, seeking his head through my dress but too much silky fabric is in the way. All I can do is tip my head back and moan as his hot mouth presses against the soft fabric of my panties, and his hands caress my thighs.

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