“Always.” I smile at him.
CHAPTER 37
Rico
“You know,” Pietro clears his throat as we stand in front of Father Pezzi waiting for my soon to be wife to emerge from our bedroom, “we could hear everything. Poor Father’s ears over here were burning red.”
“Impossible.” I toy with my watch. “The rooms are sound proof.”
He snickers. “If the door is fucking closed.“
Uncharacteristically of me I had forgotten. I shrug, unashamed. “Then I suppose you know she agreed to be my wife.”
“Among other things.” His grin is devious. “Like how tight?—”
“That’s enough,” I warn him sharply. He raises both his hands in the air as a sign of surrender but still wears a shit eating grin. The bastard.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this. That I’m even part of it,” he says nervously.
“Constantine will not kill us.”
He blows out a shaky breath. “I’m glad you’re so confident because I don’t believe he’ll be as merciful as you think.”
“You’d be surprised,” I murmur.
Under his breath he says a prayer and I sigh at his antics. Whatever helps ease his mind.
Truthfully I thought marriage was never on the cards for me. I never thought I could be with someone who would want to spend the rest of their days with me and I in return. Marriage seemed impossible. Until her. My beautiful missing piece.
My eyes catch the first glimpse of her as she exits our bedroom.
She’s ethereal.
Too beautiful to be real.
My breath catches. The organ in my chest pounds violently against my ribs. My skin itches to close the distance between us.
Pietro whistles lowly as she steps in the living area. I elbow him in the gut and he doubles over wheezing. “What the fuck man,” he groans in pain.
“Don’t whistle at my wife.”
“She isn’t your wife yet,” he argues on a technicality.
The primal beast inside of me still doesn’t like it. “Don’t ogle her or I’ll have your eyes served for breakfast.”
“Okay, ogre.” He rolls his eyes but when I give him a cold leveled stare the white flags of surrender wave around him.
I return my eyes back to her. The woman who has captured my heart and ensnared my soul. Despite how we’ve defiled each other she looks as innocent as can be in her pearl white halter form fitting satin dress.
No longer able to stand the distance between us I stride towards her with purpose. She smiles shyly at me as I take both of her hands in mine.
“You are divine,” I breathe.
Her eyes sparkle. “You’re beautiful, too.” I’ve never been called beautiful before. And while I want to reject the compliment because I don’t see anything about me that qualifiesas beautiful I keep my mouth shut. Because it’s clear for anyone to see that in her eyes I am.
I lead her over to Pietro and Father Pezzi. His white clerical collar seems to be strangling him as he smiles at the both of us tightly. Pietro smothers a laugh with his hand.
Clearing his throat he begins with trepidation, “We are here today for the Holy Union of Matrimony between Rico Maroni and Imogen Murphy.”
