Page 34 of Under His Control

“You’re really going to leave your sister’s wedding?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.“You’re willing to alienate the one person who would do anything for you?”

I don’t threaten. Men who understand violence recognize it in the stillness before the storm. The boy’s bravado deflates, his chin dropping, gaze falling to the floor.

Taylor’s voice breaks the stalemate. “Chris, is this really what you want?”

He keeps his back to her. “I’m done.”

I glance over at Taylor. She purses her lips, then sighs and nods.

I step aside, clearing the doorway. “Then go.”

He slips past me, avoiding eye contact, shoulders hunched. The door clicks shut behind him with finality.

Taylor stands in the center of the room, fists clenched around her bouquet like she might crush the silk-covered stems. Her eyes flash with anger. She inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, clearly hurt but maintaining her composure.

“I’m sorry,” she says, voice tight. “He’s?—”

“Don’t.” I cross the carpet in two strides. “You have nothing to apologize for. We do what we must for family, even if they don’t appreciate it.”

She tips her head back, eyes closing as if to gather strength. The white dress hugs her curves perfectly, the fabric pulling slightly across her breasts with each deep breath. I want to tear it off and prove to her with my mouth that she’s priceless.

God, I hope she’ll let me tonight.

A single tear escapes, gently trickling down her cheek.

That does it.

I pull her against me. She stiffens at first, but when I don’t let go, her body softens. Her face presses to my chest, warm breath seeping through my shirt. She fits like a missing piece to a part of me I didn’t know was broken.

She smells of lavender. I drag a slow hand through her hair, forcing my body not to react, though it’s hard when her curves mold to me. Despite my efforts, blood surges south and I grit my teeth.

After a moment, she eases back. Her eyes—deep, dark, wounded—search my face. “Thank you.”

I brush the damp trail on her cheek away with my thumb. “You’re beautiful,” I say, not only because it’s true, but becauseshe needs to hear it, especially now, when the last words she heard were poison. “Beautiful and strong.”

Color blooms on her cheeks. Her lashes dip, drawing my gaze to the generous swell of her breasts. She draws a breath, chest rising, and I have to force my gaze up. But she caught me looking, and a shy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“You’re going to make it hard to fix my makeup if you keep staring.”

“Would you like Charles to stand in for your brother?” I ask, brushing her hair back.

“Charles is the closest thing I have to a father. Yes, please.”

“Consider it done.”

She steps toward the mirror, dabbing beneath her eyes. “Go, before I decide I need a ten-minute cry and ruin your timetable.”

I obey, pulling the door shut behind me.

The chapel corridor is empty—Chris is long gone. I push him from my mind; I have a bride to protect.

Charles stands near the pews, fidgeting with his cuff links. He looks up as I approach. “Everything okay?”

“Better than.” I clasp his shoulder. “The bride would be honored if you walked her down the aisle.”

Emotion flashes in his eyes. “She asked for me?”

“Her words.”