Page 19 of No Saint

“You’re right, but there would have been no guests to see that, only me.”

“And the priest.” She retorts snidely.

“That’s right, but then I would have killed him for seeing my wife bare. So not really a problem at all.”

She pales.

“Chop, chop, Amelia, the seamstress doesn’t have all day.”

9

There were several dresses hanging in the room, all different styles from A line to mermaid and ball gown. All were beautiful and horrendously expensive.

I’d never thought about marriage or whether I would have it, but I assumed I would have a choice in the matter. Clearly, I thought wrong.

The seamstress nervously fidgets while her team remains quiet, stationed around the room. Two of Gabriel’s men stand at the door, very obviously armed.

“Ma’am,” the seamstress says quietly, “Would you like to look at these?” She motions towards the dresses.

“Not really.”

She squeaks, her fear as clear as day on her face. She was terrified to be here, in this house, with these men. Withthatman.

I didn’t blame her. Anyone smart enough would realize they’d headed right into the devil’s lair.

But that didn’t mean I would make it easy on her.

I was being forced into this damn marriage, but I wasn’t about to do as I was told.

Marriage’s end. It was no big deal. Marrying the devil would change nothing.

My skin still tingles from his touch and that pisses me off more.

It’s a normal reaction, I tell myself, he was averyattractive man, with his fiery eyes and dark hair, any woman would react to that.

I run my fingers across the dresses, feeling each one under the tips, some lace, some silk or chiffon. All stunning with embroidered flowers and pearls and diamonds. Maybe when I was younger, I had pictured a wedding, with the ballgown and the flowers and pretty flower crown but then I grew up, and people like me, we don’t get the happily ever after.

“Any you like, ma’am?” The lady asks.

I peruse the dresses, gaze snagging on a tight silk number but it covered everything, a high neck with long sleeves in a sheer lace style and a sewn in belt to snag in the waist, flowing the skirt over the thighs. The back was high too. It would be perfect for what I had in mind.

I slide it from the rack and hold it out in front of me, picturing what we could do to make it fit what I had in mind.

“You’re here to make alterations now, right?” I ask.

She nods.

I glance towards the guards at the door, knowing they’ll report straight back to Gabriel, so I needed them out of here.

I begin to strip.

“Ma’am!” The seamstress cries while I hear panicked shuffling from the guards behind me. “Ma’am we’ve set up a privacy corner for you to change.”

“I don’t like tight spaces,” I lie.

My top hits the floor, leaving me in just my bra. The door opens and closes a second later.

I stifle my smile, shoving off my pants. The seamstress helps me into the dress, it was a little baggy on me, but she was fixing that.

---