Page 130 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"No swearing," he says mildly.
"And you smirked," I accuse him. "Didn’t think you had a mean bone in your body."
"Much you don’t know about me." Edward’s eyes gleam. For a second, I am sure I glimpse something beyond the affable, if quiet, priest and friend I’ve known for so long—something darker, more violent… Unpredictable? Hell, I should know. I was—am—the same.
"Jesus, Ed," I mutter, "you’re going to get into so much trouble one of these days."
"Nothing I can’t handle." His smile widens as he stares past me.
"Straighten up, Savage," Arpad calls out to me.
"What?" I tug down the lapels of my shirt. "What’s wrong?"
"The doors are opening."
"Shit." I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. I’ve faced a crowd of millions at Wembley Stadium, so compared to that, this should be a moon walk—I mean, cake walk—right? There are, what, fifty handpicked guests, at the most, in the room, all of whom I know, in one capacity or another. So why the hell are my palms damp? My stomach churns; my guts heave. "Fuck, I am going to be sick," I mutter.
"You’re not." Arpad laughs
"Wait until it’s your turn, you prick," I growl.
"Na-a-ah." He waggles a finger. "Not falling for the oldest trick in the book, my man. Besides, I am going to have my hands full, seeing how you cope."
"Ha-fucking-ha." I widen my stance, push my shoulders back.Easy now. This is a walk in the park, a simple ceremony. A few minutes and it’ll all be over. All you have to do is—I turn toward the doorway, and that’s when my world turns upside down.
What the hell is she wearing?
Julia steps into the room and a hush descends. The guests stop talking, sensing the presence of an angel. A goddess? The epitome of femininity, who is every fantasy I ever had. She takes a step forward and the long sweep of her leg gleams in the sunlight that chooses that moment to stream down from the open window. The ray spotlights her, bounces off the tiny stars in the thin veil that floats above her face, and entwines with her dark hair that cascades about her shoulders. The lace of her bodice encircles her neck and flows down to meet the beading that starts above her breasts; the corset cinches in, showing off her impossibly small waist before flaring over those gorgeous hips and ending at mid-thigh.
Slim thighs, made for being wrapped around my waist, the muscles moving and giving as I haul her up against the nearest door and pin her to it with my cock buried inside of her. "Fuck," I swear aloud and Arpad elbows me in the ribs.Get your mind out of the gutter this once, will you?But how can I stop the lascivious thoughts that run through my mind as she glides closer, closer, her arms encased in that same ivory lace that sets off the creamy skin I’d caressed not so very long ago?
And now she is baring her body to the people here. My muscles tense, my groin hardens, and something primitive coils in my chest. Lust? Jealousy? Possession? How dare she reveal herself in front of the world when the only person who is allowed to see her, feel her, hold her, make love to her, is me?She’s mine. All mine.And no way, do I want anyone else laying their gaze on her beauty So what, if they appreciate her? Too bad.She belongs to me. Only me.I take a step forward and Arpad grabs my arm.
"What are you doing?" he mutters.
"What?"
"You okay, Romeo?"
"Huh?" I shake my head to clear it. "You can let go of me. I am not going to do anything stupid.’
"You sure?" He leans in close then brushes some imaginary dust off of my shoulder. "You’re not going to pick her up and run out of here, or something?"
I had considered it.I flex my fingers, feel my pocket. Good. My surprise is still there. "Nah," I wrench my shoulder from his grasp, "I’m done running." I glance up at my bride, who walks past the gathering and toward her future, "Besides there’s something I need to complete first."
"You not going to do anything stupid, are you?" There’s a note of concern in Arpad’s voice.
"Can’t promise that," I allow my lips to curl, "but whatever I do, it will make for a great headline." I focus on looking relaxed, lock my gaze with my bride’s.
She comes to a stop in front of me, tips up her chin.
I glance down at the green eyes that stare up at me through the barrier of her veil. I take in her flushed features, the quivering lips, the upturned nose.
I glare at her; she trembles. She gulps, tips up her chin. I reach for her veil and raise it over her head. A sigh runs through the audience.
I bend down, press my mouth close to her ear. "Nothin’ lasts forever," I whisper, and the bouquet slips from her fingers.
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