Page 106 of Omega
“And do you, Valentine Albert Roth, take this woman, Kyrie St. Claire, to be your wife, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
“I do.” Roth had a tear in his eye when he said those two words, which was almost as surprising to me as learning his totally, ridiculously pedestrian middle name.
Albert. Heh. I’d have to tease him for both the crying and the middle name.
Sure, I was crying, watching my best friend get married, but I was a girl, and I was allowed.
I started when a hand touched my thigh. I glanced to my left, and my tears gushed freely.
Harris, looking shell-shocked at the sight of me in my kickass dress.
He was in a wheelchair, an oxygen canister strapped to the back of the chair, tubes wrapping under his arm and connected to a cannula in his nose. He was in a tux, a red rose in his lapel. He hadn’t shaved, so he had the beginnings of a beard. Yum.
“Nick?” I lunged for him, wrapping my arm around his neck. “You’re here!”
“Barely made it for the I-do’s.” He pulled me down so I was forced to land on his lap, and then glanced up at Roth and Kyrie. “Congratulations, you two. Sorry to crash like this.”
Kyrie wrapped her arms around both of us. “Don’t apologize, Harris. I’m just glad you’re here. We’re done anyway, so now we can start the fun part.”
“Actually,” the minister interjected, “I haven’t officially made the pronouncement yet. So…”
“Oh!” Kyrie straightened, and rushed back to stand facing Roth, taking both of his hands in hers and schooling her features to something resembling seriousness.
Roth cracked a grin, shaking his head minutely.
“In the sight of God and all these witnesses, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may—ahem.” He stopped, a smirk on his face. Roth already had Kyrie bent backward over his arm and was kissing the ever-loving shit out of her. Like, full on tongue-sex. “Well. It seems you’ve got that part down.”
When they straightened and broke the kiss, finally, the minister took their joined hands in both of his and lifted them high. “I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Valentine Roth.”
There was a platform laid over the sand that formed the aisle Kyrie had walked down and the area in front where the actual ceremony had taken place, and now Kyrie and Roth walked hand in hand back down the aisle and up to the thatch-roofed area where the “reception” would take place. Cal had served as Valentine’s only groomsman, I was Kyrie’s bridesmaid, and we both followed behind.
The reception itself was a tiny affair. Just a single bartender, a catered dinner brought out by a single server. No guests, no nonsense. The cake was appropriately sized, a simple black and white two-tier confection. The beach was less than twenty yards away, and Valentine’s estate just up the hill.
Alexei, Sasha, Andrei, and Thresh were in attendance as the security detail. They wore matching tuxedos, but each of them was also carrying an assault rifle as they patrolled the perimeter. It was equal parts sexy and comical and scary, seeing men in fancy tuxedos with roses in their lapels and bowties at their throats, looking fancy and gorgeous…and carrying big ass machine guns.
The security was slight overkill, since Thresh had done some hunting and discovered that with Vitaly’s demise, his assets had been seized and redistributed, and the underground crime world was too busy trying to fill the power vacuum left by his sudden death to worry about a non-factor like Valentine.
In other words, the danger was past.
But hell, sexy men in sharp tuxedos with scary guns? Really brings a wedding together, if you ask me.
“How’d you get here?” I asked Nick.
“I didn’t leave them much choice. I took out my IV and cannula and walked out of the room still in my hospital gown. I told them I was going, and they could either help me or get out of my way. Also, I bribed them with a huge donation to the hospital. Roth’s money, of course. They got me this stupid contraption,” he smacked the wheelchair and tugged at the oxygen tube, “and I booked a flight. Checked in with the hospital here to refill the canister, got a taxi, and here I am.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and inhaled his scent. “It’s only been three days, but I feel like I’ve been away from you for a fucking year. It’s been hell. Never leave me again, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
I palmed his cheeks. “Wrong answer, buddy. You go somewhere, I go with you.”
“What if it’s a dangerous rescue mission?”
“You’ve seen me handle a gun. You’ve taught me to fly a plane. I think I can handle anything you can handle.”
“Alpha One Securitydoeshave an opening for an informational assessment asset.”
“A what?”