“I do not understand any of the words you just used!” I hiss. “And I most specifically do not recall any discussion ofmarriage.”My voice goes up on that last word. “Whatisthis?”
He chuckles, low, in my ear and I hate myself for the little shudder that goes through me. “I said, ‘Little Cinder, stop talking.’ Just listen to me for amoment, aye?”
“Did we go through that whole charade of sightseeing when you were really just pushing me toward this hotel and these guys?” That hurts. The night had been so much fun, the first time I could truly relax in months.
“No, I wanted to show ye the underground tunnels,” he says, keeping me pressed against the door. “Having fun leading up to this moment was highly preferable to just dragging ye here.”
Growling, I push against him, trying to get loose.
“Listen to me closely.” His hands grip my hips and the casual hold he has on me is deceptive. I know he can keep me here, pressed against this door and there’s nothing I can do about it. “We are here because there is a threat on your life.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leans down, his mouth next to my ear, so close that I can feel the brush of his lips against my skin. “Your stepbrother arranged an alliance with a Russian Bratva, you are part of the deal. They are very bad people. Ye would not survive this marriage.” His fingers tighten on my hips. “Kyle and Marlena are not letting ye go quietly. They have trackers searching for you now.”
“Is it the Morozov Bratva because I’ve met some of their people, they’re big in New York-”
His grip on my hips tightens. “No, not theMorozovs, they are allies of ours. The Kholodovs are animals, their Bratva is built on human trafficking and the lowest, most vile parts of the sex trade. This new Pakhan is the worst of them.”
“Kyle thought he could make an alliance with this guy?” I gasp. “He was going to sell me off for adeal?”I’m shivering, even in the warm room.
“Aye,” Wallace says grimly. “What the eejit dinnae understand is that the Kholodovs don’t make alliances. They’ll tear through the Banner Syndicate until there’s nothing left.”
“Wh- why would you want to get in the middle of that by marrying me?” I’m still shaking, my teeth chattering.
“Your life is mine to protect,” he says huskily, his lips tickling the sensitive shell of my ear. “It has been since I saved ye from the fire. Marry me. You’ll have the power of the MacTavish and Taylor Mafias behind ye. No one can touch ye then. Not your arsehole stepfamily, not Kholodov.”
I rest my forehead against the wood. “This isn’t like one of those mafia married for life deals, right? We can split up if we decide to hate each other?”
He blows out a long sigh, his minty breath going past me. “I could never hate ye.”
Something about his fervent tone cracks mybrittle heart open. Just a bit.
“What…” I’m searching for something to say before he makes this madness seem perfectly logical. “What about your family? Aren’t they going to be furious that you went off and married some random girl? We’re definitely not making any kind of helpful alliance here.”
He breaks into hearty laughter then, and it’s as beautiful as it is startling. “Oh,Luaith Bheag,this is nothing new for the MacTavishes. Come now, come marry me.”
Taking my hand, he leads me away from the door and proffers the roses again that he’d pulled out of the vase outside. “I’m okay without them,” I whisper. “This really isn’t that kind of wedding.”
His lips twitch a bit as he pulls me to the officiant, who looks even more despondent about this situation. Opening his book, he dourly recites, “Welcome, everyone. I am Malcolm Douglas, an official Registrar for the City of Edinburgh and legally authorized to perform this service. The ceremony is being carried out in accordance with the Marriage Act of 1977-”
“Malcolm, get to the crucial parts,” Wallace interrupts.
“Aye,” he sighs. “Wallace MacTavish-Taylor, do ye solemnly sincerely declare that ye know of no legal impediment to-”
“Skip it,” Wallace interrupts again, making an impatient, ‘get on with it’ motion.
I hear a choked little noise from the Registrar’s assistant and our witness.
“Do ye, Wallace MacTavish-Taylor, solemnly and sincerely declare to love, honor and respect Scarlett Lucia Banner, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for as long as ye both shall live?” Malcolm snaps.
“I do,” Wallace says instantly.
“Do ye, Scarlett Lucia Banner, solemnly and sincerely declare to love, honor and respect Wallace MacTavish-Taylor in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for as long as ye both shall live?”
“I…” Stupidly, I wonder how Wallace knew my middle name. Who am I kidding? He knows everything. “Wait.”
Malcolm looks like he can’t decide if he wants to cry or vomit.
