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Studying the pair from afar, I was able to notice the similarities between Nova and her mother. They had the same softness to the curve of their noses—a richness in their honey-golden irises. Nova only lacked her mom’s height and willowy frame. Unnerved by their shared traits, I desperately searched for differences in them.

Darla sidled into the frame. At first I was bothered, but then I began to breathe easier. Darla looked so much like Valencia that, by comparison, Nova became a black sheep. The younger woman’s curled hair was the same shade and exact same length as Valencia’s. And when Darla laughed—louder than anyone else in the room—I saw the same wicked gleam in her face that her mom wore like perfume.

Nova didn’t laugh like that. Never.

From out of nowhere, Larchmont slid into their conversation. He dipped to give his mom a kiss on the cheek. Then, after he hugged Darla, he saw me watching them. At first his smile drooped. The hatred swimming in his face was unmistakable.

With me looking on, Larch lowered to Nova’s height, giving her a fierce embrace. He never tore his eyes—or his sneer—from me the whole time. Like the rest of them, Larch was dressed in a well-made outfit. Black, which he seemed to favor.

Richard broke through the crowd to join them. Larch whispered in his brother’s ear; both of them surveyed me now.

Next to me Fran said, “Remember, you’re not just marrying Nova. You’re marrying her family, too.”

Larchmont winked from across the room. Taking a glass from a tray, he held it to his shoulder. To anyone looking, he was toasting me. But I knew when he straightened his thumb on the edge of the glass, passing it in front of his neck, he wasn’t wishing me well.

He was imagining he was cutting my throat.

- CHAPTER TWENTY -

HAWTHORNE

The live band in the corner played as we ate. After the food was served, the music became lighter, catchier—encouraging the attendees to dance. I jumped right into the fray, happy to have something to take my mind off things.

Each time I twirled Nova, I spotted the throne waiting for me on the other side of the room. There was a wide space around it where no one dared to draw closer. The damn thing might as well have been under a spotlight.

“Are you okay?” Nova asked.

“Better than ever,” I lied, scooping her up, spinning her easily. Her dress fluttered in the chandelier lights, transparent, blurry, like a hummingbird’s wings in flight. It made me think of the day she’d pleaded with me to give this a shot. To choose her.

When I set her down, she dug her fingers into my sleeves. Her heels skidded on the slippery floor. “You’re nervous.”

“Me? No, God. Never.” I tried to make her move; she dug her shoes in harder.

“I know fear when I see it. What I’m wondering is if you’re nervous about the coronation ... or about the wedding.”

I started to respond. Flicking my eyes to the throne, then back to her, I sighed instead. “Why would you ask about the wedding?”

“Because of them.” She swung her hips, moving us so that I was able to see the rest of the room. Though they were dancing apart from each other, I spotted my family without much struggle. Fran was eyeballing us over the shoulder of some random guy in a tux. Costello and Scotch were more subtle, but barely.

Grabbing her hips, I pulled her against me. “You think they hate you.”

“Theydohate me.”

“Well, so what? They hate a lot of people.” I grinned, but Nova didn’t. “Listen ... they don’t hate you. They hate your family. Give them time, they did say you were nice.”

“Nice.” She tasted the word, and though she didn’t look comforted, she did finally smile. “You said that, too. Do you think that’s all there is to me?”

Chuckling, I brushed my palms up her spine. Lowering my face to her cheek, I kissed her smooth skin. “You’re more than just nice. But the things I love about you aren’t exactly easy to show off to a whole room.”

She shuddered, clutching me around my broad back. Her nose tickled my earlobe. “That’s true. I’d rather not show my soon-to-be in-laws what you do to me when we’re alone.” Her fingernails scraped lightly over my suit jacket, making my cock twitch. “But ... I have an idea for how we can make a different scene.”

Baffled by her cryptic words, I let her pull me away from the dance floor, toward the live band. The grand piano was a polished chocolate brown. I saw my awed face in it as I walked closer. Most of the players had gone to take a break and eat, leaving just a violinist and some brass players to perform for the dancers. They all watched me curiously.

“Go on,” Nova said, running her hand down my arm. “Sit.”

Overwhelmed with disbelief, my voice cracked. “What do you expect me to do? Play it in front of everyone?”

“I told you I’d love to hear you. I meant it.”