I was a husband again.
Fear pricked through all the other emotions, but I stuffed it down, refusing to believe I could be foolish enough to choose another woman as dangerous as Jill.
London had confirmed yesterday my suspicions about her past; I’d recognized certain quirks within her demeanor over the past eighteen months. While she hadn’t wanted to go into the details of the abuse, I knew there was no way she was lying about her ex. No one could fake her reactions, specifically the one she’d had on Main Street when he’d called to threaten her.
My feelings didn’t matter in the face of that.
London would feel nothing but safe in my home. Even from me and my attraction.
Suddenly, the registrar was presenting our rings. Yesterday afternoon, I’d gone into Mrs. Gilchrist’s antiques store after discussing it with London. We got our ring sizes using a tool online. We might as well plant the rumors first, and I knew Mrs. Gilchrist wouldn’t be able to resist telling someone that Murray Shaw bought two vintage gold wedding bands from her. Luckily, she had two bands in her collection that fit us both.
Later I would find an engagement ring that was perfect for London. Just to keep up the pretense, of course.
I smirked to myself as I took the smaller band and slid it onto London’s ring finger. The antiques store owner had been filled with a million questions, growing visibly more agitated as I smiled coyly at her, refusing to answer.
She’d find out soon enough who the rings were for.
London’s hand shook a little as she picked up the larger band to slide on to my ring finger. A spark of unease crackled to life as she had to force it over my big knuckle until it slipped into place. Jill had had the same trouble when we got married. I’d made some joke about my too big hands. She’d laughed and murmured against my mouth as we’d kissed that she was looking forward to my big hands being all over her body that night.
It seemed unreal that the woman I married that day turned out to be someone I didn’t even recognize.
London isn’t Jill.
This isn’t a real marriage.
London must have seen something on my face because she frowned in concern. I wiped my expression clean as the registrar raised his voice and announced, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Shaw.”
I froze, somehow having forgotten that part of the ceremony.
Fuck, I couldn’t take a kiss from London without her permission. Not after she’d?—
My thoughts were cut off as London grabbed hold of my lapels to pull me down into her kiss. I grunted with surprise, my hands reaching tentatively for her, caught between not wanting to give us away and not wanting to overstep my boundaries. I settled on resting them lightly on her waist, her heat seeping through the fabric of her dress as she moved her lips against mine.
Just like that I was overwhelmed by the lightly floral scent of her perfume, by the faint taste of something fruity on her soft lips. As need began to build in my gut, it took a whole lot of willpower not to kiss her like I wanted to, thoroughly and deeply. Instead I kept it PG, brushing my mouth over hers in gentle strokes. She shivered against me and I bit back a groan, abruptly breaking the kiss.
London’s cheeks were slightly flushed, a hazy look in her eyes that made me want to find the nearest bed.
Clearing my throat, I released her waist and stepped back.
She blinked like she was coming out of a daze and glanced away, as if uncomfortable.
Shit. I’d messed up already.
“Right, let’s get this marriage certificate signed, shall we?” The registrar’s smile was confused as he glanced between us, like he could sense something was off.
“Sure!” London’s voice was high-pitched with overacting as she beamed at the man. It seemed to work on him, but I knew better.
Perhaps I should have pressed for more background information on this Nick guy, her ex. I knew it wasn’t my business, but now my mind raced, torturing myself over the extent of the abuse London suffered at his hands.
I had to find a way to reassure London that I was never going to be inappropriate around her. That we may have to hold hands while in public in Leth Sholas, share an affectionate peck on the cheek now and then, but I would never overstep.
She was safe with me.
8.London
Iswear my lips still tingled from Murray’s gentle kisses as we drove off the ferry into Leth Sholas. Even though I was pretty sure he kissed me like that because he thought I needed to be handled with care, I still enjoyed it. His touch had set my heart racing. There was an answering tingle and tightening in my breasts that I hadn’t experienced in such a long time and had worried I wouldn’t ever feel again.
Unfortunately for me, my new husband had kept an obvious physical distance from me since we’d left the registrar.
