Page 24 of Masked Hearts

I’m stunned into my spot as I watch her talk to her sister. She looks breathtaking.

Eventually, the doors open, and the sound of music travels through the air, signalling not only us, but to the rest of the wedding party that we’re good to enter. Thersa and I walk into the grand hall, hand in hand, smiling like the most ecstatic newlyweds possible. Cheers from around the room ring in my ears, and everyone welcomes us and the bridal party into the venue.

It’s truly and utterly believable. Like any good lie should be. Perfectly plausible.

We head for the table at the front of the room and take our seats. She drops my hand like a hot iron as soon as we get behind the table.

Every touch from her feels electric. I thought that when I kissed her in the church, I would feel repulsed by the forced nature. But I didn’t, and I have no idea why. I look over at the female I’m now supposed to refer to as my wife, and watch as she whispers with her friend.

The kiss felt everything but fake or forced. It felt hot, it seared right through every fibre of my body, and most importantly, it felt addictive. But like any addictive substance, that only means trouble.

I can’t want to kiss her because then it’ll mean I’m getting distracted. Falling in love with my wife was and is not part of the plans.

Mattia grabs my shoulder as he takes his seat next to me. He all but screamed like a little girl when I asked him to be my best man. It was an obvious request, because even for my arranged wedding, I knew there was no one else I’d rather have by my side.

“You’ll never guess who’s here.” His eyes are wide.

“That guy from the band Adriano loves? Or wait…is it Zachkary Lancaster?”

Mattia furrows his brows at my guesses. “If you’re talking about Natalia’s brother, yes, he is here. And no, you’re not that well known that a Formula 1 driver would be at your wedding.” He shakes his head before nodding to the back of the room.

My eyes follow his, and I nearly jump when they meet none other than Enzo’s.

“I thought you said you never invited him?”

“We didn’t. But your father-in-law did.”

I look to my left along the table where my brothers and their respective dates sit. All their eyes are glued to Enzo, as well, and they seem equally as shocked as I am. I shift my chair back, ready to head over to Ambrose to ask what the fuck is going on, when the DJ’s voice echoes through the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you will turn your attention to the dance floor, the happy couple will be sharing their first dance.”

My eyes widen before they shoot down to Theresa, who sits frozen in her spot. I lean down until my mouth is next to her ear. Goosebumps rise along her skin as I say, “Did you know about this?”

Her head shakes slowly, and I sigh. “I don’t dance, Theresa.”

“We just have to sway for two seconds. I'm sure you’re capable of a simple task like that,” she fires, her eyes meeting mine.

“Fine.” I return to my height and offer her a hand. She sighs before placing hers in mine. Then the warmth is back as we walk hand in hand to the dance floor, where everyone’s eyes burn into us.

The DJ starts to play some generic slow song, and I pull Theresa towards me, placing my hands on her waist.

She leisurely wraps her arms around my neck like it’s the most natural thing she could do. Her eyes pierce into mine, and I’m nearly frozen in my spot under her stare until she pokes the back of my neck, reminding me to move.

We begin swaying along to the music at an almost torturous pace. “You know my husband’s hands probably wouldn’t be this high on my waist.”

I raise a brow. I placed my hands here out of respect, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable by an unwanted touch.

“Are you sure?”

“Gotta make it believable, Mr. Perfect.” She rolls her eyes, and I stifle back a grin as I let my hands sink lower until they are just above her ass, allowing my fingertips to splay across her soft flesh.

I can feel the warmth of her skin through the thin lace fabric, and if the sight wasn’t bad enough, having her this close and being able to touch her is not helping all the surprising dirty thoughts my mind is conjuring up. It’s not long before I’m thinking about our end-of-year financials to keep me from a very embarrassing situation.

Her palm lands on my face and guides my face back down to look at her, and I didn’t even notice that I started to zone out and stare off into space.

“At least pretend to be interested in me.”

I’m caught off guard by her accusation. This girl is clueless about how she’s making me feel right now, how my body is begging me to bring it any sort of relief.

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