When we were settled and able to ignore our surroundings if only for a little while, Donatello lifted my chin.
“Nothing will happen to me, sweet Ambrosia.”
“Before we were married, you made it sound like I wouldn’t accept anything less.”
“What?” He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t understand.”
“You mentioned that us getting married was to keep a promise made to me. When was that?”
He laughed. God, how I adored the twinkle in his eyes. “Not one that I made to you. One that I made to myself a bunch of years ago.”
“Which was?”
“I promised myself that one day I’d marry you.”
“When was that?”
His slight hesitation made me nudge him in the stomach.
“On the first day I met you.”
* * *
Whoever had said love was blind was a fool. If it were, dealing with the emotions surrounding the entire life-altering concept would be easier.
Accepting that I’d fallen in love with anyone had floored me, so much so that even now as I sat rigid in one of three leather chairs in Alexander’s office, I couldn’t stop fiddling with my wedding band.
I also darted looks toward Donatello from time to time. Of course we were attempting to remain extremely professional during the various meetings being held with the family and several of the top soldiers within the regime. Alexander hadn’t tried to shove me aside as he’d done before under the guise of protection.
Perhaps because of the speech I’d provided, the phone call I’d made on the day I’d gotten married or because of the notes I’d put together and had thought to bring with me to the church. My intuition had told me something would go wrong that day.
Our indifference to each other during these meetings was about the difficulty we were having connecting. Since returning, being around each other had been difficult. Why? Why was there a sudden change from the heavy banter or the pretend fighting? Or the passion?
Neither one of us had managed to put a decent sentence together during the time spent with each other.
And the tension.
The tension was crazy.
Maybe we were both still reeling from Jaxon’s reaction, but after a full week? Plus? Anastasia had obviously kicked Jaxon in the butt because he’d been much nicer to both of us the last few days.
The worst part about not being closer to my husband was the physical separation. He’d been staying at my house and while the family probably thought we were happy little newlyweds, he’d slept in a chair near the front door when he’d slept at all.
Donatello could chalk it up all he wanted to protecting me, but I knew better.
Perhaps our sudden, quick marriage had been all about the adrenaline rush caused by continued danger and the passion that had embroiled us. And maybe karma was trying to tell us something because Francoise hadn’t emailed our marriage certificate as he’d said he would.
In reality, if we wanted to stay married, we should have another civil ceremony in New Orleans, but it was apparent that Donatello didn’t want to.
Great. Now I was feeling sorry for myself.
On top of everything, the family was holding a small wedding reception for us tonight. Tonight. We were supposed to pretend we were madly in love and get through a lavish party.
I was already sick to my stomach.
“As we anticipated,” Alexander continued. “The Brotherhood wasn’t happy with decisions made years ago.”
The family meeting had lasted two hours.
