Her head snapped toward Ryan.
“I caught him holding it in Madrid. Saw him staring at it on a beach in Bali. Found him holding it in the middle of a frigid night from hell in Russia. He always had that ring with him. Like he was carrying around a piece of you, wherever he went.”
That couldn’t be true. Could it? Slowly, her head turned back toward the front.
They were at the end of the aisle.
Ryan took her hand, and he slid it toward Nash. Instantly, Nash’s fingers closed around her own. He pulled her closer, and a relieved breath seemed to slide from him.
Her gaze was on his profile. He was staring at the officiant. All of the information that Ryan had just revealed flew through her head. Her heart raced too fast. Adrenaline, fear, and excitement coursed through her veins.
“Does anyone have just cause why these two should not be united?”
At those words, she held her breath. Even found herself jerking around to stare at the closed doors to the Love Heart Chapel.
But the doors didn’t come flying open. No one interrupted. And soon the officiant was asking, “Do you take this man to be your husband?”
Her gaze was back on Nash. She knew the whole scene was pretend, but it felt so incredibly real. Too real as she murmured, “Yes.”
Nash smiled at her. A smile of such savage satisfaction that alarm bells went off in her head.
“Do you take this woman…”
She didn’t even hear the rest of the officiant’s words.
“Yes. Always.” But she heard Nash’s response clearly. He put a ring on her finger. A gleaming, gold ring. And he gave her one to put on his finger, too. She wondered where he’d gotten those.
Surely, he didn’t have these two wedding rings for years, too. Surely…
“You may kiss the bride.”
It was done. The stage set. They’d be photographed after this ceremony. Word would leak. An announcement would be made. The right people—or, in this case, the wrong ones—would learn about the ceremony. The trap would be sprung.
But in that moment, as Nash’s fingers curled under her chin and he tipped her head back, she didn’t care about Kurt or any trap. Her lips parted, and when Nash’s mouth touched hers, the tenderness of the kiss shocked her.
She’d kissed Nash in many ways over the years. Nervous kisses when she’d been a teen. Desperate, hungry kisses when she’d been older and learned what passion truly meant.
But this…
Gentle.
Almost worshipping.
His lips feathered over hers, and tears stung her eyes. For a moment, Delaney felt like she was truly in a dream. But, no, this was better than a dream. Because he was really kissing her. The weight of the two rings she wore on her left hand was real. He was real.
This time, her wedding had not been a nightmare. Not at all.
Nash swung her into his arms. “I’m not letting you go again,” he vowed. Nash began to carry her down the aisle.
Her right arm looped behind his neck. Her left held the daisies. They’d done it. She and Nash were married. Pretend married. He was carrying her toward the chapel’s doors.
Ryan beat them to the exit. He swung open one door. Rushed outside. Nash followed. The sun was setting because they’d been in Vegas for most of the afternoon. The CIA had put all of their plans in place. And this was another part of the master plan. They were supposed to be photographed leaving the chapel. A photographer would take shots of her and Nash.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
The blasts caught her unaware. They sounded like fireworks, and for a frantic beat, she found herself looking around in confusion except…
The car racing down the road had a man hanging out the passenger side. A guy with a gun in his hand.
