Chapter 42
Zane’s POV
From the wedding p>
I don’t turn around when the music starts.
I already know it’s her.
Even my bestman straightens beside me, like he senses something coming down the aisle that matters.
Still, I don’t look.
I wait.
I hear her footsteps, slow and measured.
Then I turn.
And for a moment, my mind goes completely blank.
Elaine isn’t just wearing the dress, the dress is holding on to her for dear life.
It fits her like it was made with hands that knew her body intimately. The curve of her waist. The slope of her shoulders. The way her hips move when she walks. White shouldn’t look like that on anyone. Soft, clean and dangerous all at once.
My chest tightens in a way I don’t lik.
She looks so fucking unreal, so delicate and fragile. She looks beautiful, like she’s an angel that fell from the sky. Now I know, I know that I shouldn’t be here ogling my enemies kid sister but damn does she look edible in that drez. Her hair is pulled back just enough to expose her long slender neck, that long line of skin that makes something tent down in my pants, lucky for me my suit covers the bulge but if anyone were to bend down and look at me they would be getting so much more than they bargained for. Her face looks calm, too calm. That’s what gets me. She’s holding herself together with sheer will, eyes fixed ahead like she refuses to give this moment anything more than that p>
Lucas is walking her down. Of course he is.
His hand is too close to her back. His posture is too protective. It irritates me more than it should, even though he’s her brother and I have no right as to who touches her or not despite the fact she’ll be my wife in a few minutes.
She doesn’t look at me until she’s close. When she does, it’s brief.
Good. I don’t need any form of softness from her.
But I notice things anyway
The way her fingers curl and uncurl at her side. The way her breathing stutters when the room goes quiet. The way her eyes glaze slightly during the officiant’s opening words, like she’s not really here anymore.
She’s zoning out.
That surprises me.
I expected fury, defiance maybe even fear. Not this distant calm, like she’s stepped outside herself just to survive the moment.
When Lucas places her hand in mine, his grip lingers a second too long. A warning for sure.
I ignore him.
Her hand is warm and so much smaller than mine, she’s tense too, her pulse jumps under my thumb.
She smells clean and floral, something subtle and I take in an air full of breath to get more of her scent.
She doesn’t look at me when I speak the vows. She stares straight ahead, lips moving automatically, voice steady but hollow. Like she’s repeating lines she memorized without believing in any of them.
I watch her anyway.
I watch the muscle jump in her jaw when the word wife is said. I watch her swallow hard. I watch her shoulders lift on a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.
When it’s time to kiss her, I hesitate.
Not because I don’t want to.
Because I want to too much and that thought surprises me, I haven’t kissed a woman since I was a teenager. I fucked. And that’s just what I do, no feelings or strings attached.
I lean in slowly. I don’t rush it, I want her to feel it coming. Want her to decide whether she’ll pull away.
When she doesn’t I dive in.
Her lips are warm and so freaking soft. My first contact with her lips is light, like I’m testing it.
Then something in me snaps, I deepen it without thinking, my mouth moving with intent, my hand sliding up to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her soft soft hair. She stiffens for half a second, then her lips part and it’s over.
She tastes like something faintly sweet. Not candy or chocolate. Alarm bells are ringing in my head at how she tastes but I decide to ignore it.. I don’t know why my body reacts the way it does but the kiss has heat and lust flaring low and fast, down in my groin.
Her breath catches, I feell it against my mouth.
For one unguarded second, I forget everything else. The room and the audience we have
It’s just her and me and the fact that she fits against me so freaking good.
Then it’s gone.
I pull back and lock my face into place before she can see how much the kiss affected me. Her eyes are unfocused. Like she didn’t expect the kiss.
Good.
I offer her my arm. She takes it because she has to.
As we walk down the aisle, I feel her stiffen beside me. I feel the tension in her spine. The anger she’s holding in so tightly it’s vibrating under her skin.
She hates me.
I know that.
What she doesn’t know yet is that I’m not untouched by this. That the image of her walking toward me, white dress clinging to curves I won’t forget, is already burned into my head.
I don’t let it show.
I never do.
Elaine’s POV.
(back to present)
By the time we’re wheeled through a private entrance at the hospital, the dress feels too heavy on me. Layers of fabric dragging behind hospital floors that smell like antiseptic and cold air. Someone keeps apologizing to me. A nurse? Maybe an assistant. I stop listening.
Zane disappears behind double doors.
I’m left standing there in white, hands clasped in front of me.
They put us in a private ward. With no waiting room, no phones, no curious eyes and most importantly no cameras, I didn’t want pictures of me in my wedding gown at a hospital standing like this on the internet.
I sit.
Then I stand.
Then I sit again.