Chapter One
It was going to take a miracle to save her.
Delaney Daniels tightened her grip on the bouquet of red roses as she ever-so-slowly made her way down the narrow aisle. Each tiny step made her feel as if she was walking straight to her doom because…she was.
Her groom waited about ten feet away. Handsome. Tall. Immaculate in his tux. His smile was warm and tender, and he utterly terrified her.
A few of the rose petals from her bouquet fell onto the white aisle runner beneath her high-heeled feet. The petals fell because her fingers shook so badly. Not like she could help the shaking. She was way too afraid. No way she could control herself.
A sweet little lady with wire-framed glasses played the organ. The church contained only a handful of people. It was supposed to be charming. Romantic.
It was not. It was horrifying. Gut-wrenching.
Her white high heels minced forward. I am moving as slowly as I possibly can. Still searching for a miracle. Still looking for some desperate way out of this nightmare.
The priest beamed at her. His right hand held the Bible, and his left hand motioned for her to come forward.
Oh, had she stopped advancing? And had she perhaps shaken her head in a no response to him?
She had.
Her groom—Kurt Henry Wellington, the third—lost a bit of his smile. His handsome face stopped looking quite so charming and became slightly more cruel.
I believed the lie right in front of me. Until it had been too late. Until she’d discovered the truth. Until she’d wanted to run away.
But there was no running from some people in this world. Kurt Henry Wellington was one of those individuals. A very, very dangerous individual. The man who wanted to marry her. The man who’d claimed to love her.
The man who would kill her as soon as the ceremony was over and he had her alone with him. Her honeymoon truly would be from hell.
“Darling?” Kurt’s warm, deep voice.
She hated his voice. The care in it was a complete lie. Just like everything else about Kurt. Lie, lie, lie. But there was nowhere for her to go. The heavy satin of her dress trapped her. The train sliding behind her felt like a chain dragging her down. Down straight to her grave.
Kurt strode toward her. That charming grin flashed again. The grin wasn’t for her benefit. It had to be for the few people watching. Strangers to her. Their ties were to Kurt, their allegiance to Kurt, not to her.
“Darling…” Kurt said the endearment again, and Delaney could not help but flinch. He’d eliminated the distance between them. Now, he stood right in front of her. He reached out and took one of her hands away from the quivering bouquet.
More rose petals trembled and fell. One rose petal landed on her dress, looking so very much like a blood drop that a shudder worked along her entire body. Hello, foreshadowing.
“You need to walk toward the priest,” Kurt directed. “Now.”
No, she needed to run for the exit.
But even if she got to the exit, there was nowhere for her to go. She had no car to make her escape. Kurt would catch her before she got more than steps away from the church. He’d hurt her. He’d make her come back.
“Delaney.” A warning note had entered his voice.
She smiled at him. Did it look like a tender, loving smile? Or a go-to-hell grin? And did it even matter? Voice low, husky, Delaney told him, “Go screw yourself.”
His grip tightened on her hand.
She sucked in a quick breath because his grip was painful. She could practically feel the bones in her hand rubbing together.
“That’s no way to talk to the man who loves you.”
Only he didn’t really love her. He couldn’t. He’d just been using her all along. And this whole stupid setup at the church was a farce that would end in her death. What was she supposed to do? Go happily to her grave? Did he think she would just docilely accept her fate?
“Walk down the aisle,” Kurt ordered her. “Say ‘I do’ and then this will all be over for you.”
