Page 63 of My Possessive Billionaire: Our Fake Marriage

“You’re not supposed to be doing that yet,” she challenged.

“On the contrary, we’re supposed to be doing this all the time,” I said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Evan replied.

The wedding planner gave me my bouquet. It was nothing short of breathtaking. It had been constructed of wildflowers for a more natural look, but that only made it even more unique and beautiful than a store-bought one of genetically modified, arranged flowers would have been.

I inhaled deeply and sighed. The wind seemed to sigh too, as it went through the limbs of the trees. The golden-brown leaves still clinging to the skeletal limbs rustled in a pleasant susurrus.

We stepped inside the chapel. I loved the rustic look of it. It had the feel of a place where good things happened rather than a trap spewing fire and brimstone. I kissed Evan again and then we parted briefly. He took up his position at the altar as the wedding planner helped me don my veil and a few finishing touches on my appearance.

The string quartet started playing March of the Bride, and I wore a smile of uncontained happiness as I strode up toward the altar. Evan’s handsome face split in the goofiest, purest smile I’d ever seen him make. His icy façade cracked and revealed the real person underneath, and that person I loved more than anyone else on the face of the earth.

I took his hands at the altar. The minister said a few words, his face warm and smiling.

“One of my happiest duties is to see two people who truly love each other joined in matrimony. I can tell just by looking at the two of you that you have what it takes to make it. And before you ask, no, I do not say that to every couple.”

We both laughed gently, and then I read my vows.

“Evan, I love you because of the man you are. Not because of your money, or your success in business. I think that you probably already know this, but I wanted to restate it. I want you to understand that the person you are now is the real you. Not the icy bastard you thought you had to be.”

He smiled and squeezed my hand.

“I vow to love you, forever and always.”

Evan’s eyes glowed with affection. As he spoke his own vows, his voice dropped into a reverent tone barely above a whisper.

“Amanda, when I first saw you, I think I knew then that you werethe one. I just tried to talk myself out of it. That was dumb.”

I laughed, and so did the minister.

“You’ve shown me that showing emotion and being kind aren’t weaknesses. They’re strengths. I’ve learned what love really is. It’s not just a feeling, it’s an action. It’s something you do every day. All day. All the time. And I vow to love you all the time, through the good times and the bad.”

The minister actually got choked up. He had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could ask if Evan had the ring. As for me, I was openly weeping, though not sobbing. It was tears of happiness, not pain.

He slid the ring on my finger, and then we kissed more deeply, more passionately, and for a lot longer than we ever had before.

The minister declared it a new record.

My first thought as we left the chapel as husband and wife was simple. No way was this going to end like our last wedding night.

This time, nobody was getting any sleep.

Epilogue

Amanda

1 hour later

Going with the theme of simpler was better, we spent our wedding night not in the big city. Not in a posh hotel suite in the penthouse. Not even in a villa on the coast somewhere.

My new husband had purchased a luxury cottage on a private plot of land not far from the wedding chapel. We weren’t totally alone in the cottage, as there was a security guard stationed at the gate out front, and another who roamed the walled-in grounds.

But they weren’t to come inside the cottage unless it was an emergency. They had their own guest house a country mile from our cottage. This made it as close to a secluded getaway as a world-famous billionaire and his new wife could get.

He carried me up the steps to the wraparound porch. I gasped at how lovely everything was. It was like a good witch’s cottage from a storybook come to life. Everything had a painted, pastel veneer that somehow complimented the autumn landscape, rather than clashing with it.

“It’s beautiful,” I said with a sigh.

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