Page 5 of Forbidden Lord

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Kiss? Sheena? The thought hit him like a sucker-punch. His gaze dropped to her pretty pink lips and he wondered what she tasted like. She tilted her face upward, her eyes half-closed. “We’ll be fast.”

Their mouths met and any reservations left his body faster than a bullet. He hadn’t expected to want her. Their wedding night would be fun. She held his waist like she needed momentary support. “Wow.”

Agreed. He let out a small sigh as his lips tingled to kiss her again. “Hold my hand, Sheena.”

She walked down the aisle with him and into the hall that the staff had transformed into a banquet area for their cocktail party.

The wedding she’d planned for him.

Her father stood with a confused expression near the buffet table.

Any second now guests would join them and there would be questions they’d need to answer. She squeezed his hand. “My papa. Let’s go see my papa.”

Matteo owed Nicoli Marceau, her father, a lot and it wasn’t a check for catering.

He needed to ask for her hand—which was backward, since the vows were done.

He squared his shoulders and walked with her toward her father in his white chef’s hat and tall, thin frame like he never ate his own food. Nicoli looked past him. “Sheena, did you get married without talking to me?”

Sheena cringed.

Matteo wrapped his arm around her waist and offered to shake her father’s hand. “Sir, Sheena will never want for anything, I assure you. I hope you can forgive us for the haste and grant us your blessing.”

Nicoli stared at Matteo like he’d spoken a foreign language. “Sheena, do you think you’ll be happy like this?”

Sheena gripped Matteo’s hand and nodded. “Papa, I’m happy. I know this was fast and unexpected, but please, tell Matteo you give us your blessing. You sent me to school with nobles and I’ve known Matteo all my childhood. You wanted me to be a lady.”

“Oui.” He bowed to the pair of them as he said, “Then I’m happy for you both. I need to go direct my kitchen. If you need me, I’m here.”

His own father would never have bowed out so easily, but then again his father hadn’t cared for anyone other than himself. And from the simple glances between Sheena and Nicoli, the Marceaus were different. Maybe one day Sheena might tell him what having loving parents was like, if he asked nicely. His own father had been stupid, about many things, including his feud with Stephano’s father.

Guests filed out of the room and headed toward the bar, the appetizers, and them. He wasn’t prepared. He swept her into the bridal suite. Matteo needed to know if today had been just to help him in the moment, or if she was serious about being his bride.

If this fell through, he had just weeks left to marry and secure his inheritance. He closed the door to ensure they had privacy. Unlike the hall, the suite had a view of the white boulevard and touches of Sheena’s flowers were everywhere, like she’d spent hours picking every petal for today. He glanced at her and again his body relaxed, like he was near the one person who brought him peace. “Sheena, we only have a minute before we have to go out there.”

She unpinned the veil like it burned through her scalp. “What’s wrong, Matteo?”

Once she took the veil off, she combed her blonde hair and massaged her scalp like she’d been in pain. Had the veil been too tight? He stood behind her. “Do you have a boyfriend? I hope that you’re willing to make this legal as soon as we can.”

She put the hairbrush down on the vanity and turned around. “I can do that, Matteo. I don’t have anyone else.”

“Then I’m a lucky man.” He sat on a cushioned armchair as she dismantled a flower arrangement and then pinned white blossoms around her head. He said, “Marrying you was a shock to the system.”

She nodded as she twined flowers together with bits of ribbon. “I get it.”

Sheena’s golden blonde hair was a mix of braids and curls and she artistically tucked tiny flowers in. He’d forgotten how pretty she was. He sat forward and said, “A good shock, on my part, I must say.”

“You must?” She stopped making her flowered crown.

He stood and handed her the next flower. “Yes, since I had to marry, it should have always been with someone I trust.”

She gestured for another flower and he handed it to her—he imagined she was weaving their future together with slender, capable fingers. “Well, I never expected to marry you. I want to continue running my art auctions and help struggling artists succeed.”

His estate could house a museum. If Sheena might somehow transform the three hundred and sixty-five room mansion, with seventy-five bedrooms, and five miles of corridors, into something other than an ode to his father’s sins, he’d giftwrap the keys for Sheena to fill the place with any art she wanted. “Sounds like a worthy cause for the new countess.”

She shrugged, finished her floral crown and used the mirror to attach it to the flower base she’d already pinned in her hair. “It’s not noble or anything. I make money.”

Money was good. They’d work out the details later, but marriage secured both their futures. She wrapped parts of the veil in her flowers with small pins, keeping her face visible, and then twirled.