Page 37

As he looked into Mary’s eyes and repeated after the minister, he swore that he would be a better man than his father. He would honor her, protect her, give her all he had, and never have her want for a thing. And silently he swore to protect little Zoe, and any other kids they may have in the future, as well. All he had to do was keep the crazy and rage inside. Bottle it up where it belonged. Maybe, just maybe, then she could care about him the way she cared about Zoe, her cousins, and even her worthless sister. He wasn’t sure why that was important, but it was.
They finished giving their vows, and silently, he added another vow; to never let her go. She was off the market, for good.
He gave her a scorching kiss underneath a shower of applause and catcalls. Yeah, his men were assholes like that. Then the congratulations started.
When it was Walker’s turn, he was greeted with a huge grin. “We knew you’d eventually see the light, boss.”
“You won the bet, didn’t you?”
“I sure did.”
Smug motherfucker.
Mary patted him on the chest. “Let’s dance.”
Dance. Another thing he’d never seen himself do. He was too big and never felt comfortable doing it, let alone while wearing a monkey suit. Thankfully, the DJ put on a slow track. Mary nestled perfectly against his body.
He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Thank you. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
He was in awe of her. Not once had she asked about his scars. Everyone did, sooner or later.
“Not as pretty as you. Obviously.” He’d meant for that to come out as a joke, but she must have heard something in his voice.
She cupped his cheek with the three puckered scars. “Are you referring to these?”
“You never asked how I got them.” He didn’t give a fuck about the scars. Didn’t care what others thought about them either. Thousands of soldiers got hurt during combat, or lost their lives. A few scars were nothing compared to that. Yet somehow, her opinion was important.
Mary placed her hand on his heart. “I didn’t ask because I don’t think of it as something that defines you. To me, it’s just a sign of bravery, of survival. Honestly, I envy it.”
Not what he was expecting to hear. “Envy it?”
She shrugged while he swayed them slowly from the left to the right. “Most people are so focused on what’s on the outside. As if one’s looks tells anything about them at all. I think it’s quite the opposite; it’s the most misleading thing there is. I don’t like it when people underestimate me. One look at me, and they think I don’t have a brain.”
The first time he saw her, he’d been transfixed by her beauty, boobs, butt, and golden hair too. He had objectified her like any other man. Of course, by now, he knew that there was more to her than just a pretty face.
“I’ll be sure not to make that mistake,” he said smoothly.
Staring deep into her beautiful eyes, he had a feeling everything was going to be all right. That he’d somehow deserved her and wasn’t going to fuck this up.
Then he sawhim; an unwelcome face in the small crowd.
Fucking Kristoff Romanov. The one person, apart from the sperm donor, he hadn’t wanted to see today, or any other day.
He turned to Gio, who was dancing next to him with Jazzy in his arms, ready to scold him.
His friend shook his head. “I didn’t invite him.”
“Yeah, then who else would—”
She wouldn’t.
His gaze snapped back at his wife.
“I invited him,” she said softly. “Gio had nothing to do with it. Other than providing me your brother’s whereabouts when I asked him if you had any relatives.”
He tried to rein in the rage. His shirt felt too tight. The whole damn tuxedo felt like it was going to rip off its seams.