Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I move toward Aleks as if propelled forward by an invisible force. I stand in front of him, my heart beating so fast it feels like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings in my chest. He leans toward me, a hint of a smile on his lips, as he reaches for my hand.
Is he going to be nice to me, then?
“You could look a little less like you’re heading to a funeral,” he whispers.
That would be a no.
I give him a forced smile back. “Honestly, my thong is up my ass, so don’t take it personally. I like to think it’s…symbolic.”
He stifles a snort as the priest begins the ceremony.
“Why are you staring at me?” I whisper. “Are you really afraid I’ll run now?”
“I have to ensure you don’t get a case of cold feet. But I promise you, Princess. If you were to run now, I’d derive immense satisfaction in the chase.”
I swallow. “Why chase? Do you want me that badly?”
He leans closer. To anyone else, it would look like an intimate whisper of words between two lovers.
We know better.
“Every game has its end, Harper. And I always play for keeps.”
The priest drones on and on, but I don’t hear a word until it comes time for my vows. I nod and agree and so does Aleks. There’s nothing the least bit romantic in taking vows to a man you don’t know, much less love.
But when he takes my hand and slides a ring on my finger, something in me softens.
When the priest tells us we can kiss, I lift my face to his.
It starts almost tentatively, like two people stepping foot onto a frozen pond, unsure if it can hold their weight. Under the gaze of strangers and enemies and the expectant eyes of those around us, the soft meeting of his lips and mine carries the weight of what lies between us.
Like every interaction between us, it’s charged with an electric pulse. His fingers on my chin burn my skin. There’s a reverence and tenderness to the way he touches me I didn’t even know he was capable of.
For a moment, I forget that anyone but the two of us is here. This isn’t just a kiss, but maybe a silent truce, a new path forged by each of our pasts and our future. A whisper of something so much more.
As our lips part amid the hoots and hollers and cheers of the crowd around us, I stand a bit stunned. But I don’t have time to reflect on any of this as he takes me by the hand and marches me down the makeshift aisle in the middle of his — our? — living room and toward the dining room.
My family appears out of nowhere, my mother’s disapproving frown beside my father’s cruel smile. He thinks he won.
“You look beautiful,” my mother says. “But remember your loyalty.”
Aleks’s gaze darkens. “She’ll remember who she’s loyal to.”
The coloring of my father’s face tells me he got that message loud and clear.
“Look at you, all dolled up like royalty. You play the part of a blushing bride well.”
My cheeks heat. I can’t believe he just said that out loud.
Aleks’s hand on my back reassures me. It shouldn’t — he’s not my ally and hasn’t been. But now that we’re married, now that I’m his wife, maybe things will change.
“Let’s go,” he says in a low voice. “Ignore them. If they speak to you again, I’ll deal with them personally.”
We walk past them. They hold their heads high, almost haughtily. My mother gives me the glimmer of a smile. I smile back, not to be friendly but because I want her to know that while this wasn’t my choice, I’m going to be just fine.
More than fine. I’m going to thrive.
The formal dining room’s large and spacious, filled with huge vases of blooming flowers. The waitstaff mills about in formal attire, holding large silver platters of appetizers. Aleks leads me to a table set for two.
I sit down, grateful for the glass of water and flute of champagne to calm my fraught nerves. We’ll have dinner, for now.
Then we’ll be alone. Just the two of us.
I think back to this morning.
I reach for the champagne and down it.
“I think we’re supposed to wait for the toast,” Aleks says, leaning closer to me.
“Oh, right. Rules and traditions and such.”
“Are you a rule breaker, Harper?” he asks, as he traces his finger down the stem of my glass. Something like lust flickers in his eyes. “Do you like to do things on your own terms?”
Why can’t I help but imagine those fingers trailing along my naked skin? Remember what he vowed to do to me if I defied him?
Not if, really — when.
“I think that you—”
“Aleks.” Polina stands in front of the two of us, breathless, as if she’s just run here. Her voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes wide and panicked.