“Who says they’re planned?” I counter, glad that she’s sparring with me. I wouldn’t want a meek wife, one who cowered in front of me. I like her spirit. “My current goals include stripping you naked, and that’s as far as I allow myself to think, otherwise we’ll end up fucking on the stairs. Your dress doesn’t even need to come off.”
She makes a choked sound, and I swallow my chuckle. Revenge is a distant concept. I would’ve married Aurora regardless of her connection with Edward. He gave me a reason, but if Aurora hadn’t been who she is—gorgeous, funny, adventurous, sexy—I wouldn’t have pursued this path. There are other ways to obtain payback.
We reach the bottom of the stairs. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Aurora cocks her head, and her eyebrows furrow close together. “Is someone calling to object?”
“I doubt it, and even if someone was objecting, do I look like I would listen to them?” I don’t need to answer. I’m sure it’s Marco telling me to hurry. I guide Aurora forward into the garden room where the clergyman has set up shop. A small table situated at his left elbow has our marriage license.
“Let’s sign first,” I say, drawing Aurora to the table.
“Before the ceremony?”
I glance at the minister. “Is there an order?”
Flustered, he tugs at his collar. “No. Not exactly, but—”
“Good, sign,” I direct as the phone rings again in my pocket.
“Someone is insistent,” she says, hand poised over the paper.
“That someone can wait.” I pull the pen out of her hand and scrawl my name across the bottom. With a tight smile, I hand the pen back to her. “Your turn.”
Her smile is uneasy. “You seem in a hurry.”
“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” I counter. Best defense is a good offense. That works because she gives herself a small shake.
“No.” Her name comes out in precise round letters, as pretty as she is. I nod toward the clergyman, who understands my desire to put this ceremony to bed. He signs hastily. A notary applies the seal and signs as well. When our T’s are literally crossed, I nod my head to the minister.
“Begin.”
He clears his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here—”
“To the man and wife part, if you please.”
Next to me, Aurora stiffens. My pocket vibrates. I send the minister a dark glare, and when he doesn’t immediately open his maw, I start.
“In the name of God, I, Mikael Ackles, take you, Aurora Langley, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, in sickness and in health to love and to cherish. This is my solemn vow.”
“What about the poorer part?” Aurora hisses.
“We’ll never be poor, Aurora. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
A flurry of nervous giggles bursts out of her, but she gathers herself up and repeats the vow back at me. “This is my solemn vow,” she ends.
A shiver runs down my spine. There’s no going back now. We’ve made our solemn vows in front of God. The minister bows his head. “I pronounce you man and wife. What God has brought together, let no man put asunder.”
“Amen.”
“What in the fuck is going on here?” a man bellows from the French doors.
We all turn at once.
“Edward,” Aurora gasps and slinks behind me.
I place a protective hand out. “Blackstone, I don’t believe you were invited.”
“You stole my wife,” he shouts.
“Can’t steal something that was never yours. Now get out,” I reply pleasantly. “Or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“The hell you will,” he roars and launches himself at me.
9
AURORA
I twist my wedding ring around my finger as I sit in front of a police officer, who is questioning me. I’m not sure Mikael knows this is even happening.
He’d actually stepped into another room to speak to another officer, telling me not to worry, that everything would be okay. After they’d stepped out, a different officer walked in. I’m not sure where Edward went. One of Mikael’s men pulled him out of the garden room before the police got here. I wonder who called them?
Some of these police officers' questions are odd and not what I thought they would be. I’m a bit confused. I’m starting to wonder if I should ask for a lawyer. But neither Mikael nor I did anything wrong, so I don’t think it’s necessary. He’d only swung at Edward because he attacked us. Not that they’ve asked me about that yet. Their line of questioning is geared more toward if I want to be here, and if I willingly married Mikael.
“But you were engaged to Edward Blackstone?” Okay. That’s a new question.
“I never agreed to marry him,” I answer honestly because that’s the truth.
“You want to explain this?” The man turns his phone around for me to see the screen. My eyes read over the wedding invitation.