Page 70 of Vengeful Vows

Next, he repeats the officiant’s words, then slips a wedding band into place, and it snuggles against my engagement ring.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

My life sentence is complete.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Nico’s lips are soft as he presses them to mine, and for a moment, I’m reminded of the man I thought I knew, one who had brought me to dizzying heights of pleasure.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Moretti.”

“Mrs. Moretti,” Nico repeats into my ear as we turn toward our guests.

“I think I’ll keep my maiden name.”

“Mrs. Moretti,”he corrects, voice clipped. With a smile that I’m sure looks indulgent to everyone but me, he captures my chin. “There are a few things I insist on. This is one of them. Yield or I will make your life utterly miserable, little flower.”

His cold, calculating words find a home. Still, I won’t back down. “As if you haven’t already?”

Cheering and clapping, people rise to their feet. My brother is a noticeable exception, and Adriana frowns at him.

I suffer through the obligatory receiving line and more pictures on the top step of the chapel.

Then Nico scoops me up as if he’s carrying me over the threshold. In a single move, he curls me into his body. “Struggle, and I’ll drop you on your ass.” He leans down with a broad smile and kisses my forehead before wickedly pinching my ass.

I squeal in shock, wrapping my arms around his neck for dear life as people whoop and holler, thinking we’re in love.

He should have been an actor.

Guests toss rose petals on us as we descend the steps, and they continue to do so as he strides toward the car.

I hate that his arms are so strong and that he smells so good and that a tiny part of me yearns to remain where I am.

Sergio holds the door for us, and Nico places me on the seat, smoothly sliding in beside me, blocking any hope of escape.

Honestly I am too tired to even consider it.

Moments later, we’re driving back to town to prepare for the reception.

Rafe Sterling has gifted us the owner’s suite at his hotel for the evening, another tiny indication of how powerful my husband is.

And I admire Rafe even more now for standing up for me that day when I met Nico’s family. I’m sure not many men confront him.

Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres are already available for our guests who have arrived early.

We’ll stop by our room so I can change into my second dress. Then we’ll join the party.

“That went well,” he observes.

“Meaning?”

“You behaved yourself well.” A charming smile curves his lips. “Mostly.”

My heart quickens. Why do I have to have this kind of response to him?

“You’re going to be an amazing partner.”

I sink against the seat back. At one time, I might have believed that. Before I discovered who he truly was.

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