Arjen
Iapproached the woman who had been sitting next to Khane: Mecca Evans. She was staring at Desiree and Khane, who were shaking hands and receiving congratulations from the guests. Instead of being bitter that her groom-to-be had married her cousin, she beamed with pride at the sight of them.
Her head turned in time to catch me making my approach. She was pleasingly attractive. There was a purity about her, the perfect amount of goodness to hide the hell cat peeking through her sultry eyes.
She was darker than Desiree, her skin like expensive well-aged scotch. I could tell at a glance that Mecca was the kind of woman that went down like silk and came up like an explosion of razor blades. Maybe it was the determined set in her stance and the confidence in her unbending gaze that suggested that she was not a gentle soul.
“Arjen,” I greeted, reaching out my hand. She took it with a delicate caress I hadn’t expected.
“Mecca.”
Hearing her voice made me smile. It was sweet and delicate like her unexpected touch.
“Mecca, like Islam’s holiest city?” I asked.
A smirk she tried to keep off her lush lips surfaced. “Yes, but unlike the city, I can’t claim the holy title.”
I chuckled, shaking my head at her before I allowed my gaze to fall over her, taking her in fully. Pure trouble is what I saw. And I couldn’t forget that she had found Desiree’s car when we couldn’t, or that she was running the Black Saints, a criminal organization that was a big enough force that the syndicate had pulled them under their umbrella.
I remained beside her, silently assessing my brother with Desiree. Mecca had given me a quick once over before she appeared to lose interest. Why the heck did her quick dismissal bother me?
Used to women falling at my feet, it was a bit unsettling to find another that wasn’t affected by my attention. I brushed the small sting off my shoulders and allowed the sight of Khane and Desiree to recapture my focus. How could I not want my brother to be this happy?
Seeing him with a smile on his face was a gift. I often stressed about his mental health because of his loner behavior and the disturbing stories the men would report back to me about his ruthless fascination with death.
Did Desiree know that she had become one of the most powerful Vallins in our family? She had found a way to tame Khane. Tame only for her, but tamed just the same. There was real love between them, which meant that she had control over one of the most formidable men I knew. She reigned over a human weapon capable of destroying whole countries, and based on the way she looked at him, I seriously doubted she knew it. She looked at him like he was the center of her universe, an endearment I never imagined would be cast on either of us.
“Story of my life,” Mecca said. She had finally allowed disappointment to be expressed on her face after turning away from the couple. Mecca didn’t have the delicate rose vibe that Desiree possessed that hypnotized men.
However, the Evans’ genes must have been blessed by the gods of perpetual beauty. I didn’t realize it until I was up close that she possessed a dark, angelic quality that captured my focus so exclusively that everything else in the room blurred into the background each time I glanced into her eyes. Mecca wasn’t overtly sexy, flashing body parts or sporting heavy make-up. She was a subdued sexy, like she worked to contain it.
“You can wipe that look of disappointment off your beautiful face.” The comment drew her attention. “The way I see it, you’re getting the best part of this whole deal.”
Skepticism lingered in her pinched brows. “And what deal is that?” she questioned, as one of her neatly arched brows lifted, waiting for my answer as her metallic gold claw-like nails tapped against her satiny arm.
“Me. I’m the deal,” I stated. “Since my ex-fiancée is in love with and has married my brother, it appears it will be you and me tying the knot.”
She stared me directly in the eyes, and laughed. It was a pitying chuckle low enough that it didn’t call attention to us, but the action had knocked my ego to the floor. I was so thrown off by her reaction, I stood in place with my face pinched in confusion.
“Is that what you believe? That I’m getting the best deal?” She stepped closer, closing the space between us and making sure I saw into her big and bold brown eyes. “Don’t get it twisted. The way I see it, you’re the lucky one.”
A wide grin lit her face, filling it with that overlapping heavenly quality that turned her sexy into beauty. She folded her arms over her tempting chest, shaking her head. “You’re the one that almost missed out on the best thing you didn’t even know you needed,” she added.
A deep smile touched my lips. I may not have been getting the woman I had picked, but with Mecca, I sensed that some level of hell was going to get raised to earth’s surface.
“Are you ready?” I asked her.
“Ready for what?” Her gaze raked me from top to bottom twice before locking with mine.
“Why do you think the pastor is still standing up there?” I questioned, pointing at him on stage, talking to a few of the guests in attendance. I contemplated changing my mind about marriage altogether, but marrying a woman I didn’t care about would make my life easier. The fact that she held the keys to the Evans’ kingdom was an added bonus.
Her neck jerked back when she spotted the pastor. The side-eye glance she cast my way should have been trademarked. The pretty, pinched lips, the cute flare of her nostrils, the thousand-yard stare. She was about to read me the riot act. That I already knew this about her personality was kind of refreshing.
“Hell, no!” she stretched the two words out. “I want my own shit. I’m already feeling salty about being your second choice. Do you honestly think I’m settling for a second-hand wedding too? It’s tacky as fuck. No! Just no!” She did have a point, now that I thought about it.
“You must be smoking bad crack if you think I’m getting married in an off-the-rack pantsuit I bought on sale. If we do this, I want an overpriced dress and cake, a bunch of stuck-up guests that I don’t know, a bigger venue, expensive food and drinks, and a rock on my finger that costs enough to break one of your bank accounts.”
My hardy laugh escaped, especially when I realized she was serious. I didn’t argue with her logic. If you had to marry for reasons other than love, you may as well get what you wanted.