Chapter 14
Mia
I woke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the curtains, the distant roar of the falls, a soothing white noise. For a moment, I forgot where I was, startled by the unfamiliar surroundings. I found myself entangled in a powerful embrace, my cheek pressed against his solid chest. At some point in the night, I had draped my leg over his, my body sprawled across him, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. As much as I wanted to stay there, I knew I couldn’t.
Today was the day. In just a few hours, I would be his wife. Granted, fake wife, but I still wanted to look presentable for the event.
Slowly, I slipped out of his embrace, not wanting to wake him. He looked so peaceful in sleep, the usual lines of worry on his face smoothed away. I allowed myself a moment to study him - the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. A surge of affection welled up in me, followed quickly by a pang of guilt. He deserved better than me.
Shaking off those thoughts, I grabbed my phone and tiptoed to the bathroom. I had a mission to accomplish before our appointment at the marriage office.
“Wren?”
I whispered when she picked up. “I need your help.”
Twenty minutes later, I was dressed and ready to go. I scribbled a quick note for Connor, explaining that I’d gone to find a dress and that I’d meet him at the marriage office at 10 AM sharp. It was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, after all.
The streets of Niagara Falls were just coming to life as I made my way to the address Wren had given me. A quaint little boutique nestled between a cafe and a souvenir shop, its windows filled with an array of wedding gowns.
A bell tinkled as I pushed open the door, and I was immediately enveloped in a cloud of tulle and lace. An older woman with silver hair and kind eyes emerged from the back, a tape measure draped around her neck.
“You must be Mia,”
she said warmly. “Wren called ahead. We don’t have much time, but I’m sure we can find you something perfect.”
The next hour was a whirlwind of silk and satin, zippers and buttons. I tried on what felt like dozens of dresses, each beautiful in its own way, but none quite right. I was beginning to lose hope when the shopkeeper disappeared into the back room and returned with a garment bag.
“I’ve been saving this one,”
she said with a twinkle in her eye. “It just arrived yesterday, and I have a feeling it’s meant for you.”
As she unzipped the bag, I gasped. The dress was simple yet elegant - a sleek sheath of ivory silk that fell to the floor in a graceful sweep. Delicate lace cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline added a touch of romance, while a row of tiny pearl buttons down the back gave it a vintage feel.
“It’s perfect,”
I whispered, running my hand over the smooth silk.
The shopkeeper smiled knowingly. “Let’s get you into it, dear. We don’t have much time.”
As she helped me into the dress, I couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been made for me. When I turned to look in the full-length mirror, my breath caught in my throat. For a moment, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me. She looked... radiant. Happy. Like a real bride.
A lump formed in my throat as reality came crashing back. This wasn’t a real wedding. Connor and I weren’t in love. This was all for show, for protection. And yet...
“You look beautiful, dear,”
the shopkeeper said softly, adjusting the lace at my shoulder. “Your young man is a very lucky fellow.”
I forced a smile, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Thank you. For everything.”
After settling the bill (thankfully, Wren had arranged for it to be charged to the clan’s account), I stepped out onto the street, my dress carefully hidden under a long coat, I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was it. In less than an hour, we would be married.
The marriage office was a nondescript building, its bland exterior belying the life-changing events that took place inside. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and pushed open the door.
Connor was already in the small waiting room, pacing back and forth with an anxious energy. Upon spotting me, he lifted the marriage certificate, his face breaking into a smile so radiant that it made my heart flutter as I shrugged off my coat.
“Mia,”
he breathed, crossing the room in two long strides. “You look... wow.”
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “You clean up pretty nice yourself,”
I teased, taking in his crisp suit.
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. “Thanks. I, uh, I got you something.”
He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a delicate gold band studded with tiny diamonds. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted you to have a wedding band. It was the closest one I could find that matched the engagement ring. Oh and these too.” He turned around and picked up a small bouquet of flowers he’d set down on an empty chair. “I didn’t know if you liked roses.”
I stared at the ring and flowers then back at Connor, speechless. This man, who barely knew me, who was risking everything to protect me, had gone out of his way to make this feel like a real wedding.
“Connor, they’re both beautiful,”
I whispered, blinking back tears. “But you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,”
he said softly, taking my hand in his as we sat down.
“What do we do now?”
I inquired, glancing at the other pairs around us.
“We wait for them to announce our names.”
After what seemed like an eternity a door opened, and a woman called out. “O’Brien and Andrews?”
We stood up, our hands still clasped together. As we walked towards the open door, I felt a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in my stomach. This was really happening.
The officiant was a kindly older woman with silver hair and warm brown eyes. She smiled as we entered her small office. “Well, don’t you two make a lovely couple. Are we ready to begin?”
Connor squeezed my hand gently. “We are.”
The ceremony itself was brief but surprisingly emotional. As we repeated the vows after the officiant, promising to love and cherish each other, I found myself getting choked up. Connor’s voice was steady, his eyes never leaving mine as he slid the ring onto my finger.
“By the power vested in me by the province of Ontario, I now pronounce you husband and wife,”
the officiant declared. “You may kiss your bride.”
For a moment, we both hesitated. Then Connor cupped my face gently in his hands and leaned in. His lips were soft against mine, the kiss tender and sweet. It lasted only a few seconds, but when we pulled apart, I felt breathless.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien,”
the officiant beamed, handing us our marriage certificate.
As we left the office, now legally husband and wife, Connor turned to me with a mischievous grin. “So, Mrs. O’Brien, what shall we do now?”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. “Well, Mr. O’Brien, I believe it’s customary for newlyweds to celebrate.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Champagne and room service?”
“You read my mind.”
Back in our hotel suite, after a quick change of clothes, we toasted with flutes of bubbly champagne. The reality of what we’d just done was starting to sink in.
“I can’t believe we actually did it,”
I said, sinking onto the plush sofa. “We’re married.”
Connor sat beside me, his thigh brushing against mine. “Having second thoughts already?”
he teased.
I shook my head, smiling. “No, it’s just... surreal, I guess.”
He nodded, his expression growing serious. “Mia, I know this isn’t a conventional start to a marriage. But I want you to know that I meant every word of those vows.”
His sincerity made my heart ache. How could I tell him the truth now? That I was the one he needed protection from?
“Connor, I have to tell you now, what I’ve been wanting to tell you,”
I began, setting down my champagne flute. “About who I really am and why those men are after me.”
He leaned forward, his eyes intent on mine. “I’m listening.”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. This was it. The moment of truth.
“Connor, I’m not who you think I am. I’m not just a librarian running from danger. I’m...”
My voice caught in my throat. How could I possibly explain this? “I’m an ass—”
Before I could finish the word, a shrill alarm pierced the air. The fire alarm.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,”
I muttered, jumping to my feet.
Connor was already moving, grabbing our wallets and phones. “I know you’re not an ass Mia. We’ll finish this conversation later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”
He stuffed my phone in my purse then handed it to me as we rushed out into the hallway, joining the stream of panicked guests heading for the stairs.
I put the purse’s shoulder strap over my head and settled it on my hip as I asked, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”
He shook his head. “If the power goes out, we could get trapped.”
I had a feeling this wasn’t a fire but didn’t say anything as panicked voices echoed against the walls of the stairwell. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on Connor’s broad shoulders in front of me, but my mind raced as to what the cause of the alarm was. It felt like a trap, a distraction.
As we burst out of the emergency exit into the crisp afternoon air, chaos reigned. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second. Hotel staff shouted instructions, trying to organize the milling crowd of confused and frightened guests. The mist from the falls mingled with wisps of smoke, creating an eerie atmosphere.
“Stay close,”
he said, reaching back to take my hand. But as our fingers brushed, a surge of bodies separated us. I was jostled and pushed, losing sight of him in the sea of unfamiliar faces.
“Connor!”
I called out, trying to fight my way back to where I’d last seen him. But the crowd was too dense, the noise too overwhelming.
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my upper arm. Relief flooded through me, but as I turned, I found myself face to face with a stranger. His eyes were cold, his grip painfully tight.
“Hello, Mia,”
he said, his voice barely heard over the commotion. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Before I could react, a cloth was pressed over my nose and mouth. The sickly-sweet smell of chloroform filled my nostrils. I tried to struggle, to call out, but my limbs felt heavy, my vision blurring at the edges.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Connor’s face in the distance, frantically searching the crowd. Then everything went black.
When I came to, I was in the back of a moving vehicle, my hands bound behind me. The steady hum of tires on pavement filled my ears, and I could make out low voices from the front seat.
“You’re awake,”
someone said.
A face appeared above me, familiar and terrifying. It was him. The man I’d been running from all this time.
“Welcome back, Mia,”
he said, his smile cold and predatory. “We have so much to catch up on.”