Chapter ten
A Few Hours Later
Afterthemostdecadentsexual experience of my life, Sky and I arrived early afternoon.
Together, which our friends expected.
Nobody knows what happened on the plane—yet. We were provided with separate rooms. Her room is down the hall from mine. I nearly spoke up, but Sky stopped me. She doesn’t want our news to overshadow the wedding, which kinda makes sense.
I’ll play along for now, but I’m not relegating myself to the shadows when it comes to her.
I can be patient for a few days. Not longer.
I’m waiting for her in the gallery above the entry to this ridiculous castle, which runs the length of the east wing. I watch the activity below while footsteps echo faintly from the corridor behind me.
Sky appears. The navy dress she’s wearing is dark and follows the shape of her waist before falling smoothly to her knees. The fabric shifts in quiet folds as she moves. As always, she’s elegant, but not formal enough to appear ceremonial.
Then I notice the heels. They make her legs, which were wrapped around me eight hours ago, look incredible. The memory of how she cried out my name in the cabin of the jet makes me hard.
“You clean up well.” I give her the once-over when she stops in front of me.
This ignites a spark of amusement. “Careful, Zach. Someone might think you’re flirting.”
“Dangerous rumor.”
Stone walls rise on either side of the grand staircase descending toward the dining hall. Lanterns cast warm pools of light on the masonry, smooth from centuries of footsteps. Voices drift upward through the stairwell in soft layers, echoing along the stone before fading into the quiet above us.
I have to admit, it’s regal and princess-y, which is exactly Marisol’s vibe.
Sky walks one step ahead, her manicured hand trailing along the cool stone railing as we move downward. When we arrived earlier, Marisol whisked her to pull her into whatever private rituals brides require before a wedding weekend begins.
I was quickly claimed by Julian and Irving, who insisted I needed to “see the place properly,” which apparently meant atour of the bar followed by a lengthy discussion about music for the reception over whiskey.
Now those separate currents are flowing back together.
Irving bounds down the stairs behind me. Sky pauses and glances back. I force my attention to the scene below before my moony expression gives anything away.
Irving, who misses nothing, inclines forward. “Subtle.”
“I’m admiring the architecture,” I reply without turning around.
He snorts.
Sky waits for us at the bottom of the staircase. The lantern light catches the violet streak in her hair for a brief moment before it melds back into the darker strands. Our eyes meet again and a flicker of awareness passes between us.
She knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m pretty sure she’s thinking it too.
Sadly, we have other obligations tonight. The doors to the dining hall are already open. Accompanied by the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses. Julian and Marisol are waiting for us.
Once we walk through the ornate archway, I’m delighted to discover it’s exactly what I pictured.
A long, wooden table stretches almost the entire length of the hall beneath dark timber beams blackened with age. Candles flicker down the center beside bowls of flowers and decanted bottles of wine. Tall windows line one wall, their glass reflecting the movement inside while the countryside beyond fades into the night.
Julian stands near the fireplace, talking animatedly with one of the staff members.
“Symmetry matters,” he insists.
