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Juliette passes her bouquet to Desdemona and then joins me in front of the officiant. My chest tightens as I wrap her hands in mine, my thumb brushing against her ring. She blinks rapidly as I trace a lazy circle on her skin before tensing in my grasp as I gently press down. I try, and fail, to hide my slight smile as her mask slips and I see the raw need in her eyes.
“Repeat after me, Gavriil.”
I repeat the vows spoken by the officiant. No one else seems to notice the slightest hesitation before she repeats her own.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I smile at her as my hands settle at her waist and pull her close. My fingertips brush bare skin. Blood surges as my body hardens at the realization that her back is naked.
I lower my head and seal my lips to hers.
Too much.The thought flashes in my mind, then disappears, smothered by the craving ripping through my body. It’s too much for a first kiss. The first kiss between man and wife. The first kiss ever between two people.
But it’s happening. It’s happening and,Theós, I can’t stop.
Her taste fills me. Fire licks up my hands, my arms, then flashes down my spine as I press my lips more firmly against hers, tease the seam of her lips with my tongue. Not just to tease, no, but to claim. Even if this is a charade of a marriage, I want everyone to know this woman ismine.
I should let go, should be done with it, need to stay in control—
Her lips part. I feel her inhale right before she kisses me back, our parted lips deepening the intimacy between us for a mere second before she suddenly pulls back. I stare at her, my gaze fixed on her face. Her eyes are dark, her breathing heavy. She felt it just as much as I did. That pulsing need, more than desire or mere lust.
What have I done?
Over the roaring of blood in my ears, I hear the cheering of the crowd, the whoops and congratulations.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant proudly declares.
I recover first and tug her around to face the guests. Their smiles blend together as my mind tries to process what just happened.
I married Juliette Grey. I married her and then I kissed her and now my world feels like it’s been tilted off its axis.
I inhale once, exhale slowly. Then I slip an arm around her waist and pull her against my side. She stiffens but doesn’t turn away. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye confirms that she’s at least trying to smile. But the stretching of her lips looks more like the grimace of someone about to face a firing squad.
I lean down, my lips brushing her ear and sending a shiver through her.
“Smile, Mrs. Drakos.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Juliette
ILEANAGAINSTthe marble banister, a glass of champagne in my hand and a glimpse of stars above me. The lights of the Queen’s Necklace, a collection of opulent homes and buildings on Malibu Bay, glow against the darkening navy of a summer night. Even though I prefer my mist-covered Olympic Coast, it is beautiful.
I smile at the dark waves of the Pacific rolling lazily up onto the beach. Given the sheer size of the ocean, it’s odd how it can still feel like a comfort, a familiar friend amidst so many strangers milling just a few dozen feet away.
My moment of peace drifts away as someone laughs behind me. Just one hour ago, I said “I do.” Now my gargantuan ring has a mate, a silver monstrosity that has even more diamonds shoved into the band. Its sole purpose is to draw attention to the wealth that purchased it.
Which about sums up my husband in a nutshell.
When Gavriil told me his reasons for wanting an outrageous wedding, I was furious. The man wanted to humiliate me, to put me on display not just for that stupid will, but to show me who had the upper hand in this arrangement. That he would also be showing the world, again, how much money he had was just a bonus.
Two can play at that game.
I take a drink of my champagne. The bubbles dance on my tongue, leaving behind a taste of citrus blended with honeysuckle. The best champagne I’ve ever had. Given what it cost, it should be. I wondered if it would be one those luxury items everyone raves about because it’s so rare when it’s actually terrible.
I’d never heard of king protea flowers or phalaenopsis orchids before I let Gavriil slide that monstrous engagement ring onto my finger. But I made it my mission to do exactly what he said: spend and let the whole world know just how much money he had. But I did it in such a way that even he would be irritated at the amount of money spent.
Judging by the irritation furrowing his brow when I’d handed him the final bill for the catering, I’d accomplished my mission.