I followed her gaze, and the breath stalled in my lungs.
I couldn’t have been more wrong when I imagined Danielle in a Cinderella-style wedding dress. The dress she wore was elegant and sleek. The bodice was made of some kind of lace with tiny off-the-shoulder sleeves and a heart-shaped neckline that managed to be both modest and tantalizing. Below her rib cage, the skirt poured down to the floor with a slit running halfway up her thigh and offering a killer view of one of her long legs.
For a long moment, my gaze got stuck on the tawny skin of her thigh before I dragged my eyes back up to her face. A few strands of her copper-brown hair framed her face while the rest was pulled back into the comb of theveil that streamed down her back. Her face was makeup-free, per usual, and I was glad. Danielle had an exotic kind of beauty that should never be covered up to fit the dull standards of the rest of the world.
I sucked in a breath, possibly my first one since I saw her, and it seemed to be the sign she was waiting for. She started walking, her skirt swishing around her legs and showing off her thigh with every other step.
I couldn’t have torn my eyes away from her if I tried. It was like she’d cast some kind of spell over me, one I had no hope of breaking as she slowly closed the distance between us.
When she was close enough, I held out a hand and watched her place her palm in mine. Had her skin always been this soft?
Up close, she was even more stunning than she’d been from across the church—all elegance and grace—and far sexier than I’d bargained for. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking like this about my fake wife, especially after how I’d ended things between us, but fuck, I couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous, and I’d fucking missed her. I could still remember the way her lips tasted, the way her hair felt tangled around my fingers, the sounds she made when I kissed down her neck and over her shoulders.
But nothing had changed since the day I broke up with her.
Danielle Towler was not mine to have and to hold no matter what we said today.
TEN
Danielle
It wasunfair how good Hayden looked in a tux. His black hair was tousled just the right amount, and his beard and long bangs gave him a slightly wild edge that I couldn’t help loving. It fit the version of him that he hid from the general public—the man who gave me a diamond in a bubble tea store and preferred watching movies in my apartment to going out to fancy restaurants.
He hadn’t looked away once since I’d entered the church, his full attention locked on me. The pastor was speaking, but I couldn’t concentrate on what was being said as Hayden’s gaze skated over my body. He looked at me like he was trying to memorize every inch of me.
The dress had turned out exactly right—simple, lacking frills or gems. Other than Hayden’s ring, I wasn’t wearing any jewelry, and there wasn’t so much as a bejeweled button on my dress. I wasn’t hiding behind myclothes and accessories today. I was letting my dress and plain nude pumps show off what I naturally looked like.
But knowing I looked good and seeing Hayden watch me like he wanted to devour me were two very different things.
“Hayden, do you take Danielle to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part?”
Hayden’s brown eyes bored into mine, and it felt like his presence was sucking all the air out of the room. “I do,” he said, his words wrapping around me and squeezing the breath from my lungs. There was power behind his promise, and I could feel it in the deepest parts of my soul.
“Danielle, do you take Hayden to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part?”
I swallowed, and Hayden’s eyes tracked the movement. “I do,” I whispered. It was the start of a binding promise we wouldn’t be consummating. The vows were enough for this to be legal but not truly valid without the final step.
Hayden took the rings from his friend, and when he faced me again, there was a glimmer in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was possessiveness, but that didn’t make sense. He’d made it clear that he didn’t really want me. This was all temporary, a show for his father.
He held out a hand, his eyebrows rising when I didn’t immediately place my hand in his. “Don’t tell me you’rebacking out now,” he murmured, a hint of a smirk touching his lips. “You already said I do.”
“I’m not backing out.” I offered him my left hand. The wedding ring Hayden had gotten me was a halo of small diamonds because the giant one on my engagement ring wasn’t enough apparently.
Once my ring was in place, Hayden handed me a simple gold band to put on him. A satisfied grin touched his lips as he watched me slide the piece of jewelry into place.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I froze at the pastor’s words, a shot of fear going though me. It had been eight months since I’d kissed him, or anyone, and I wasn’t mentally prepared to go there again. Wearing his ring and sharing an apartment was one thing, but kissing was… intimate.
Hayden didn’t appear to share my fears. His movements were confident and sure as he slid one hand around my waist and the other curved around the back of my neck.
I held my breath as he lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was slow and languid, like we had all the time in the world and he was intent on enjoying every second. His tongue swept over my lips gently, a soft request for more.
And I just opened for him like my body had a mind of its own. There was no thinking, no fighting; my lips just parted like they answered to him rather than me.
The second Hayden’s tongue met mine, everything changed. His grip on me tightened as he pulled me flush against his hard body, and the kiss turned urgent. Myhead swam as his tongue tangled with mine like he was fighting for dominance of my mouth, trying to prove a point I didn’t understand.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
