Page 17 of The One Night Match
“Of course not,” I snap, and she flinches at the bite in my tone, immediately making me feel like an asshole.
I mean, I am an asshole, but a bigger one.
“Did you?”
She shakes her head slightly, her eyes pressing closed as she tries desperately to get a hold of herself. If the rate of her breathing is anything to go by, she looks like she’s seconds away from a panic attack, and I honestly couldn’t blame her if she allows the anxiety to drag her under.
Even I’m rattled, and it takes a lot to shake me.
I squeeze her hands in mine, pulling her attention back to my eyes. “You gotta breathe, Kitten. You don’t want to pass out in front of a room of snakes.”
The nickname falls from my lips without consent, and her body trembles slightly as her mind goes to the same place mine does.
Last night.
At least we know we’re sexually compatible.
That’s something.
She drags in an unsteady breath and tightens her hold on me, using me to anchor her panic. “I never read the file,” she whispers.
“Neither did I.”
“Fuck,” she breathes a moment before her eyes dart to the priest, who raises a brow at her swearing. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head and returns to whatever the fuck he’s saying.
I couldn’t care less about any of this dog-and-pony show. If I’d had it my way, we would have each had our immediate familyand no one else here. But as the head of the Seattle Mafia, it’s expected of me to invite every Mafia family in the country to my wedding.
I know you’re probably thinking that’s a terrible idea, having so many people that despise one another in the same place at the same time, but wars have started over far less, and the last thing I need is to have a war break out when I don’t trust half the people that work for me.
Realistically, I know Riley is a stranger. Sure, I know her name now, and I know what her pussy feels like when she comes around me, but she’s still a stranger for all intents and purposes. Except there’s a part of me, and not a small part, that longs to tug her into my arms and settle her anxiety.
It radiates off her like a cloud, and now I wish I had read the file so I’d know if this is something that happens often or if it’s this whole fucked-up situation that’s got her on the brink of passing out.
Maybe she has low blood sugar or something.
Fuck.
Why didn’t I read that goddamn file?
“Riley,” the priest says and pulls us both from our trance. “Riley Marie Callahan, do you take Cruz James De Luca to be your lawfully weddedhusbandfrom this day forward? To have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. Will you love, honor, and cherishhimfor as long as you both shall live?”
For a long moment, I think she’s going to say no, and I try not to think too hard about why that possibility makes my chest ache.
I shouldn’t give a fuck if she doesn’t want to marry me. I’ve already held up my end of the bargain in terms of the ways her family will benefit from our union, and yet it makes me uneasyto think about some other asshole standing across from her at the altar.
“I do,” she replies quietly, but it may as well have been a shout with the way my heart leaps in my chest.
“And Cruz James De Luca, do you take Riley Marie Callahan to be your lawfully weddedwifefrom this day forward? To have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. Will you love, honor, and cherishherfor as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” I say almost too quickly, making her brow rise in surprise.
At least I’m not the only one who’s confused as fuck by my behavior.
The rest of the ceremony is a blur of repeating after the priest and watching Riley for any signs of spiraling. I don’t know why I care so much about her comfort, but now isn’t the time to dissect why I’m internally acting as if this marriage is anything other than an arranged sham.
“It is my great honor to announce, with the power vested in me by God and the state of Washington, Mr. and Mrs. De Luca.” He looks to me expectantly. “You may now kiss your bride.”
