Page 24 of Forbidden Vows

“Why are we leaving? What have you heard?” Dad wraps his arm around her shoulders, protective and loving.

Blaze, a pillar of composure, directs the group. “I will explain shortly; however, at this moment, get your asses through those doors as quickly as possible.”

My nature is to investigate. Pepper him with questions. Get him to repeat every word exchanged in that intense phone conversation.

Something in the firmness of the way he’s holding my hand, the depth of his tone as he commands the room, leaves me meek, quiet, and obedient instead.

So not like me.

He leads the wedding party through the solid oak doors that my dad now holds open for everyone. We step out into the fresh air and sunlight, joining Sharon on the pavement while leaving behind any lurking dangers in the shadows of the church. However, we are not yet out of harm’s way, as Blaze is addressing the group. “This way! Follow me. Move quickly.”

“Let’s go, people!” Jogging beside him, I grip his arm firmly, depending on his strength to steady me as I attempt to navigate the soft earth in my heels.

I glance at my dad and Sharon, ensuring they’re safe. Sharon’s heels have gotten stuck in the soft ground. Dad slips a strong arm under the backs of her thighs, swooping her up in his arms. She gives a little cry of giddy surprise, clutching at his shoulders like a young bride as he carries her over the lawn. Dad manages to haul Sharon to the parking lot where Blaze is directing us.

Kinda cute. I’m coming around.

A few harried moments later, Blaze had everyone standing on the sidewalk by the road, explaining that there was a threat of a gas leak in the chapel. I can read him like a book—I always could—and I know he’s lying to keep everyonecalm. It isn't the time to investigate right now, but I will uncover the truth.

A troop of sleek black Escalades lines the curb like a presidential motorcade. How he arranged so many vehicles to meet us here this quickly is impressive. Mafia mischief is afoot! Thrilling, yes, but it's another reminder not to get too comfortable with him. I’m a safety-first kinda gal after all.

We’re all set and heading to the party that was planned for afterwards. However, it has now been moved from the small room at the back of the church to a restaurant. Blaze is currently on the phone, making last-minute arrangements.

Dad pushes in as we climb into the back of the Escalade, tugging me into the backseat and sandwiching me between him and Sharon. Great. I’m in a cloud of her perfume, my bare arm sticking to his leather blazer. Blaze takes the passenger seat two rows up from me. He feels distant. I can’t help but think how nice it would be if he were sitting next to me. Instead of Dad. And Sharon.

The two other ladies ask questions. Blaze keeps his answers vague. I remain silent. I plan to switch into my detective mode when we’re alone. I'll gently nudge him until he feels comfortable sharing the real story.

The whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help him. I will annoy the bejesus out of him.

Our SUV halts before a towering white hotel adorned with intricate stone carvings and arched windows. Majestic columns rise to polished mahogany double doors. The grandeur feels intimidating for aBurger StopQueens girl like me.

The woman sitting in the captain’s chair directly in front of me is adorned in a lacy pink hat and matching tights. She casts an impressed glance at Blaze. Her eyes widen with admiration as she takes in the hotel.

“The Wellington,” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. “How did you manage to secure us a spot here? And at the last minute, no less.”

Sharon wraps her arm around my shoulder to pat Dad on the shoulder while giving a proud smile. “My boy has important ties in the city.”

Organized crime, vigilante justice, the black silk Armani tie kind of ties.

This hook-up has Bachman written all over it in invisible ink. I don’t mind enjoying the benefits of his crimes as we exit the car. Blaze strides over, takes my hand, and helps me onto the sidewalk. He doesn't let go once my feet are safely on the pavement.

I like his power more than I should. I like his protection more than I should.

I stay close by his side as he leads me into the hotel.

I gawk as we enter. Beautiful people glide through the spotless glass doors, a ballet of elegance and finery that eludes me, their heels clicking and clacking rhythmically over the white marble lobby floors. Opulence drips from the chandeliers, and gold accents glisten like stars. Everyone seems to know where they are headed. Confidence floats through the air like perfume, making me feel even more out of place.

I’m just a smudge on the lobby’s perfect sheen, a stray note in an otherwise pristine symphony of beauty and wealth. I remember the Amazon supermodel leaving his lavish hotel room the other day. I glance down at my now silly-looking light blue dress, so out of place, wishing I could change into something that doesn’t make me look like an impostor crashing high society.

“I’m not dressed for this place,” I whisper to him.

“What are you talking about?” His eyes travel from my face, up and down my body, leaving tingling in their wake. Open honesty glides through his voice, almost convincing me of his words. “You’re beautiful. My Queen from Queens.”

Of course, I blush as always.

The hostess greets him by name, already expecting us. Blaze hovers, clutching my hands, while everyone is seated at oval tables covered in white linen and set with crystal glasses.

Feeling out of place standing here, I ask, “Should we sit?”

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