“Antonio Rossi–”
“I do not want to marry him. Ever. He’s an evil man. Surely you wouldn’t want a woman to marry someone who is physically and emotionally abusive to women.”
Father Paul Michael’s cheeks redden. Good. Better to burn with emotion than to be weak and pale.
“Rocco, is everything okay?” Elena steps forward, trying to listen in to our whispered words.
“We’re good. The Father’s blood sugar must have dropped.”
“I can get you some juice,” Elena offers.
“Thank you, dear. I’m okay now. I apologize for holding up the nuptials.” He clears his throat and starts again, “I, Rocco Anthony Parlatore, take you, Callista Gianna Parisi, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
I repeat the words but when he says the have and hold and love and cherish, I freeze. I can’t do it. I can’t promise to take care of her forever, not in front of a priest and God. I hold my hand up to stop him from continuing.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to say my own vows.”
Gia gasps and Elena lets out a loud aww. Let her think I’m romantic. Better than the alternative.
I look Gia in the eyes and send a message to my dick not to react to her smokey amber eyes or the way her nipples pucker under her dress. “I promise to take care of you, to keep you safe and healthy. I promise to provide for you all your needs and be there for you whenever you need me.”
Gia slides her tongue along her bottom lip and squints as if she’s trying to figure out why I changed the game plan and recited my own lame vows. I sound stupid. Foolish. Not qualities I want to be associated with Stone Parlatore.
I glance over at Elena who has a deep line between her brows. I need to add something more...wedding vow worthy or I’ll be listening to her disappointment for months.
Running my fingers under the collar of my shirt, I take a deep breath and continue. “I searched the world for you. Only I didn’t know it was you, Gia, that I was looking for. Once I saw you for the first time, I knew I couldn’t ever let you go.”
This earns me a sigh from Elena, and a sly grin from Gia. Shit. She’ll never let me live this one down.
“Do you want to recite your own vows as well?” Father Paul Michael asks her.
“Oh, I sure do.”
I hear Marco let out a soft laugh before he stops himself. My loyal driver will pay for that.
“Rocco,” she purrs. “The first time I saw you in your jeans and simple white T-shirt I knew you didn’t belong. There was an air of mystery that had me intrigued. You drugged me...” she pauses.
I clench my teeth in warning. If she blows this now, she’ll never see her mother again.
Gia coughs delicately into her hand. “Excuse me.” She coughs again. “Something in my throat. As I was saying, you drugged me with your Italian charm. I couldn’t have broken free of the spell you put on me if I tried. And then I came here to your beautiful estate and was trapped.”
I raise a brow at her, now seeing what she’s doing. I won’t let her get to me.
“Trapped and enchanted. I didn’t know I was looking for you until you found me.” Her grin softens. Her countenance turns more serious. “For years I’ve been running. Hiding. Searching. Trying to find myself. Find my freedom. Find myself. I didn’t realize it at first, but you’re a gift, Rocco. Marrying you is giving me a life I didn’t think was possible. Thank you for asking me to be your wife. I promise to, well, I don’t promise to obey because that’s a totally outdated vow.”
“Agreed,” Elena says. My men chuckle, then quiet when I stare at them.
“But I promise to do my best to make sure our hopes and dreams come true.”
Gia’s vows are much better than mine. However, no one expects me to recite poetry or tender words of love. Even to my bride.
“Do we have rings?”
“I have them.” Elena hands them to the priest.
I take the ring from the priest and hold Gia’s hand. Her skin is soft, her fingers long and delicate. Slipping the ring on her finger, I recite the words, “With this ring, I thee wed.”
She does the same, pushing my father’s wedding band onto my ring finger. I wiggle my fingers, the feeling of jewelry odd and unfamiliar. I’ll wear it through the pictures then put it back in the safe. Many men don’t wear a ring. People will expect me to fall in this category as well.