The notary turns to me, suspicion in his eyes. “Doña Victoria Callahan, do you consent to marry Don Alexander Reyes?”
This is the moment.
All I have to do is say no.
The notary watches me. Alex’s arm tightens around my waist. Behind me, my brother and his wife watch, and Alex’s parents.
Before us, our brand new house, in all its sun-sparkled beauty.
I’m standing here, face flustered, my carefully coiffed hair in disarray, my wedding dress torn. One foot bare.
I look at Alex. His eyes are stunning golden-flecked hazel, but devoid of emotion. He’s doing this only because he must, whatever lie he’s just uttered to the contrary.
“No,” I say, the word clear and strong.
Alex raises one finger. “Un momento, por favor.”
He leans into me, his lips by my ear. “You have two choices,” he says, voice cold. “You can change your mind, right now, and very clearly state your consent to being my wife for ever and ever, because I love you and I’m not going to let you go…ever.”
I swallow hard. “Or?”
“Or I put you over my knee, spank the hell out ofyou, and we repeat as necessary until the answer’s the first choice.”
“We’re not alone,” I hiss in reply.
Yeah, because that’s the most important thing.
Alex draws back, smiles, and says with everyone listening, “I really don’t care.”
The notary looks from me to Alex and back again.“¿Desea cambiar su respuesta?”
It’s not Spanish I know. I look at Alex.
“He’d like to know if you want to change your answer,” he murmurs helpfully.
He hasn’t looked away from me since he made his threat. And I was wrong earlier; he has mellowed, but heisstill intense. Just in other ways.
“Oh, what the hell,” I mutter. “Sí, consiento.”
The notary raises an eyebrow. “Madam,” he says in stilted English, “I need a clear answer. Do you freely consent to marry?”
“Excellent question,” Alex says. “Do you, Tink?”
I laugh. It’s all so ridiculous. The coercion, the threat, the public act… it’s just so…us.
But Alex is waiting, his gaze fixed on me, jaw tight, eyes so intense. There’s only one answer he’ll accept.
“I do.”
“Very well,” the notary says, then resumes in Spanish. “You are now united in marriage. Let us proceed to the signing of the marriage record.”
The document lies ready on a table nearby, and Alex hands me the pen, his arm still around me. I sign my name, pass it to him, the whole moment surreal.
He scrawls his signature on the line,drops the pen on the table, and sweeps me into his arms. “Thank you for coming,” he says to our guests, and without another word, carries me into the house.
“Alex!” I whisper. “That was rude.”
“Still don’t care.”
