As they approached the door, they both stopped to watch Angelica go inside. Max’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening. His field research had helped uncover the hacking scandal back in January. “What is she doing here?” he asked.
Liam shrugged. “Trying to make friends, I suppose. Did you two have a nice trip?”
“Amazing,” Cara said. “We slept in late, ate great food, did some sightseeing. It was wonderful. Where are you and Francesca going on your honeymoon?”
That was a good question. “We don’t have anything planned yet. Things moved so fast and work has been so busy, we haven’t had a chance. We’re hoping things will slow down soon and we’ll have the opportunity to get away. Sounds like a trip to Australia is a great choice. I’ll have to talk to you two about it more later.”
Max and Cara went to their seats and the last few arriving guests followed them. Liam straightened his tie and took a deep breath as he saw Scarlet and another man in a suit heading toward him with determination and purpose.
“Okay, showtime. This is your officiant, Reverend Templeton. He will go down the aisle first, then you. We’ll seat the parents, and then the bride will come down the aisle with her father. Are you ready, Liam?”
That was another good question. He was ready as he was ever going to be for a corporate, shotgun marriage of convenience. The only thing that made him feel better was that he’d get to spend the next year with a sexy spitfire who made his blood boil with passion and excitement.
“I am.”
*
Francesca sat still as stone at her dressing table, letting her mother pin the large, white gardenia in her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was the perfect image of a beautiful bride on her big day. Her shiny, black hair was twisted up into an intricate updo, the gardenia pinned just to the side. Her makeup was airbrushed and flawless. She’d found the perfect gown in her size without much trouble. Even with such a time crunch, everything had worked out just as it should. It was as though this wedding was meant to be.
Only it wasn’t.
Her persistent stomachache had kept her from eating too much at breakfast or lunch. She had a plate of fruit and crackers beside her that she would pick at from time to time, but it just made the feeling worse.
Not even a saltine cracker could cure the ache of impending doom. This wedding was a mistake. She knew it. But the part of her that loved Liam and cared for ANS and its employees was overpowering her common sense.
She took one last look at herself in the mirror and inhaled a deep breath to pull herself together. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not while her parents’ concerned eyes were watching her.
Since her father had come in, he’d been sitting in the corner, scowling in his tuxedo. Honestly, he’d had the same look on his face since she had met them at the hotel the day before. There had been a moment when he first saw her in her gown that his expression had softened and tears came to his eyes, but it hadn’t lasted long.
Francesca was pretty sure her own wary appearance hadn’t helped. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had to save her smiles and energy for the wedding and reception.
“Are you okay, bella?” her mother asked. She was a tinier version of Francesca, with the same dark eyes and warm brown skin. Her thick, brown hair was pulled back into a bun, with elegant streaks of gray running through it like professionally added highlights. She was wearing a shimmering gray dress with a jacket. Ariella had pinned a pink and white rose corsage to her lapel earlier. Her father had one very similar on his tuxedo.
Francesca nodded and stood, straightening her gown. She’d hoped for and found a white, strapless gown; there had been many to choose from because that style was in fashion. This one had a lace overlay that went to the floor and was delicately embroidered in a pattern with silver beads, crystals and pearls down to the chapel train. What she liked best about it was the silver sash around her waist with a crystal embellishment in the center. It accented her hourglass figure and gave the dress a little something special.
“Why do you ask?” Francesca asked innocently.
“You just don’t look as happy as I was expecting. Where is my beautiful, blushing bride?” Her mother reached up to gently caress her face.
She stopped fidgeting with the dress and smiled, gripping her mother’s hand reassuringly. “Yes, Mama, I am fine. I’m just a little nervous.”
“You should be, marrying a man you hardly know,” her father snarled from the corner.
“Victor!” her mother scolded over her shoulder. “We discussed this. We did the same thing, didn’t we? And aren’t you happy thirty years later?”