Page 70 of To Tango, with Desire

ZANE

She was late.

I knew it was customary for brides to be late on their wedding day. It was almost as expected as cutting the cake or tossing the fucking bouquet.

But this was hell.

She must have changed her mind. Every part of me wanted to storm back down that aisle and into the bridal suite to demand answers.

I shoved aside memories that had no fucking right to come up now. This wasn’t the same thing, not even close. But my heart slammed in my chest and my legs were restless with pent-up energy. Not that anyone in this fucking room would know it.

I knew how to play the game.

I’d worn a mask for so long, it was second nature to me. So even though I felt like I was going to vomit, even though my legs trembled, I knew I looked calm. Composed.

I spotted Maryam at the back, sneaking in. Her slight nod cut through my nerves, and the tension headache that had threatened all morning eased a fraction.

But it was only when the string quartet began to play that I sighed in relief.

I watched as Amira’s nephew ran down the aisle with the rings. I gave Robbie a fist bump before offering the celebrant the ring cushion.

I didn’t have a best man. I’d been adamant about that fact. Following suit, Amira decided not to have bridesmaids, happy to have her friends and family be a part of the celebration and not trailing around after her.

I swallowed any remaining nerves and turned my back on the congregation. We had a small gathering for our ceremony, but had extended the guest list for our reception. Many of those here at the hotel were staying the night. I made sure that Amira’s family bore no expense in the lead up to this day. They were my family now.

As far as I was concerned, this would be the first and last time I would be getting married. And I wanted to remember this day for the rest of my life.

When the quartet paused, I knew it was time. Without turning around, I could tell the moment Amira stepped into the room.

Not because of the whispered praise from guests, or even the fact that the quartet was playing the wedding march. But because of the tingling sensation I felt at the back of my neck. It was always the same, like some tracking beacon that signaled her presence. My body was attuned to hers in such a way that I could feel her deep in my bones.

It was as unsettling as it was reassuring.

Did she feel it, too? This magnetic pull?

I turned, and the world around me vanished.

There was only Amira.

Even though the veil was drawn over her face, she was nervous. She was biting her lip and twisting the bouquet in her hands. But my god, she was breathtaking. The dress, figure-hugging and delicate, only accentuated her curves. She was a queen, regal and graceful. And in a matter of minutes, she was going to be my wife.

When she handed her bouquet to her mother in the front row and stood before me, I was spellbound.

“You look stunning.”

A whisper of a smile graced her lips. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

I smoothed down the jacket of my three-piece suit.

“Ready to become Mrs. Nasser?”

“Hadid-Nasser.”

“I remember.” I didn’t care that she wanted to keep her maiden name. All I cared about was that she would be my wife. I vowed to protect her and her family, to cherish her in every way. All I had to do was sign the paperwork.

I couldn’t fucking wait.

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