Chapter 26
G enevieve
Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions.
Especially for the bride.
Friends and family.
A sun-kissed day with wispy clouds, never a raindrop to ruin the garden setting.
The perfect dress.
The perfect setting.
The perfect groom.
And a beautiful bride.
But I wasn’t just any bride. I was to be the queen in the arms of a king, a man considered one of the most powerful in Barcelona and all throughout Spain.
In the two days leading up to the wedding, I’d listened to the stories my future husband had told me, gathering a better understanding of his world and the difficulties he’d had since taking over from his father.
No one liked change, least of all brutal men ruling by violence and intimidation.
When anyone new came onto the scene, skepticism followed.
If things weren’t handled correctly, the violence that remained just under the surface would breach the thin layer.
At that point, there would be little that could stop blood from tearing apart families and destroying businesses.
There was not only a fine line of right versus wrong, but also a thin layer where corruption and legality worked side by side.
The balance was delicate, more so than my father had let on.
Did I feel closer to Jago? Yes, but I’d purposely shut down my emotions so I wouldn’t become a blubbery mess on this important day.
Soon, I would be Mrs. Jago Torres and the moment I took our vows, the balance would be upset again. Why was it I had a feeling a tighter leash would be snapped around my neck? I couldn’t live that way. How many times had I told him that?
Jago was so worried about Jamal Fassi that he’d all but turned the city of Barcelona upside down. And found nothing of value. At least not that he’d told me.
As much as I wanted to remain furious with him, he’d been frantic about keeping me safe, worried about Marco and Bella. At least they’d cooperated with his rules, although Marco would never be able to call Jago a friend. Or even a mentor. But Jago was trying.
Maybe.
I wasn’t certain.
Damn it. Why was this so difficult and entirely disconcerting?
Somehow, I could still taste him, the last kiss gentler than any before. Yet it remained hot, tingling on my tongue and that had been from two days before. His aura was that powerful.
“Genevieve.”
My sister’s hand softly touched my arm, yet I jumped as if she’d struck me.
She jerked back, her eyes opening wide. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you,” I told her.
“Jago?”
“Everything. The marriage. The alliance. The threats.” In the last two days, nothing life-altering had occurred. There’d been no additional threats, no roundup of anyone who’d killed my father or had attempted to steal from Jago.
No sight of the monstrous man who’d come close to taking me away from everything I loved.
“You don’t want to do this?”
“Hell, no.”
“Then don’t. You aren’t required to do anything you don’t want to do. Papa wouldn’t want that.”
Sighing, I fiddled with the beads on my dress. I’d thought about ripping them off while cutting the dress, so the hem barely reached the bottom of my butt. Let the photographers get an eye full of that. I turned toward her, shaking my head. “If only it was that easy.”
“Why can’t it be?”
How did I explain how things worked in this world? “Because millions of dollars and people’s lives are at stake.”
Frowning, she blinked several times. I could tell her brain cells were whirling around what I was telling her. “So you’re a little like Joan of Arc.”
I spit out laughter. “I don’t know about that, but I appreciate you thinking of me that way.”
“You’re like a badass, Genie. You’re one tough lady. Like Xena, warrior princess. Where’s your sword?”
“You’re overblowing my power, girlie.”
Her lips hardened with determination and she folded her arms. “No, I’m right. You never give yourself enough credit. You’re strong and wise and you never allow anything or anyone to get to you. I hope to be like you one day.”
She could have no idea how much her words meant to me, especially now. “I don’t want you to be like me, Bella. Be you. Be the most fabulous version of you that you can be.”
Bella squinted at me for a few seconds, assessing what I’d told her. “I would prefer to be you. Bella is boring and still a child. Bella is lonely and unlovable.”
Her words struck me so hard. “That’s not true, sweet sister. You are the brightest star I’ve ever known. Trust me, your light is what everyone wishes they could have and hope to be. Now, go take your place. I’ll be right there.”
She gave me another look, giggling when she noticed the tip of my boots sticking out from under the satin and lace.
“What? I told you I was going to wear them.” I lifted the dress from the floor, exposing my glorified combat boots. “They’re comfortable. If Jago doesn’t think they’re sexy, tough. I don’t care.”
“Oh, they’re sexy. They’re perfect for you. That’s why I adore you.” She backed away, twirling in the dress she’d chosen.
The wedding dress had been left at the store in the melee, brought by courier only a few hours later. I’d watched as the poor young man had been grilled, searched to the point of being roughed up and interrogated again. I’d admonished Jago for not giving him a huge tip.
At least he’d tried to make it up to me, contacting two fabulous women’s clothing stores to bring several racks of dresses for Bella to choose from.
I’d snagged a couple myself since everything I’d grabbed from my father’s house had been business attire or jeans.
Plus, he’d refused to allow me back at the house to gather anything else.
I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her toward the mirror someone had provided, the ancient piece surrounded in the most ornate gilded wooden frame.
My sister’s eyes were blue like mine, only a shade lighter that allowed her more of an ethereal appearance while mine were more turbulent, much darker and haunted.
A storm was brewing inside me. I could feel it.
“You’re a beautiful young woman and I’m so proud to call you my sister,” I told her.
“I love you, sissy. Just remember you like him,” she said.
“He’s… acceptable.” I laughed as another vision of him floated into my mind.
Only this time, the image was of his scarred back.
The horrible story hadn’t been embellished.
Jago wasn’t dramatic in that way. I’d sensed the continued pain buried deep inside him, even though he was a master of hiding everything but rage.
“He’s dreamy.”
She would think so.
Bella blew me a kiss before walking out of the room. As soon as she did, I headed toward the window, slumping against the wall. The church was lovely, but just looking out the thick glass and seeing the soldiers parading the grounds and streets made me angry.
Furious.
Weddings were celebrations, not invitations to a shooting range.
But I’d been warned. I’d been trained. I knew the possibility of what to expect and instead of fear, there was a strange eagerness furrowing within.
Perhaps Jago’s anger had rubbed off on me.
I closed my eyes, feeling the turbulence growing.
Soon, there would be no way to push down the feelings or the needs.
Maybe I enjoyed the act of violence more than I’d realized.
The slight creak immediately drew my attention and I fought with the long skirt to grab one of two weapons I had strapped to my leg.
Hearing the dark chuckle caused me to snap my head up. At least my hand was already wrapped around the same knife I’d used to… kill a man.
“Jago. You should learn to be more careful. You almost became target practice.”
“Maybe I should go out and come back in. I’d enjoy seeing how accurate you are.”
“Very accurate. You need to trust me on that.”
He closed the door, slowly making his way in my direction. Eyes almost as stormy as mine. Stubble covering his chiseled jaw. Muscles barely contained in his white tuxedo jacket. The color surprised me.
“The truth is, my sweet bride to be, I do trust you. That came as much a surprise and I’m certain it does to you.”
“I’m learning nothing about you surprises me any longer.”
As always, everything about his presence was all encompassing. His aura lingered even after he left a room. The way he swaggered forward should be deemed a crime in and of itself. For anyone who didn’t know him, they would think him the perfect groom.
I knew him as a dangerous man, not only because of his kill count, but also because of how my body reacted to him.
The treacherous bitch.
Losing myself to him wasn’t going to happen under any circumstances.
Still, the way he approached, his long strides reeking of confidence and sexy swagger, caused another few treacherous moments in my body.
He crowded my space, his nostrils flaring as he drank in my perfume. “You smell divine.”
“You smell like a brewery.”
His laugh was subtle.
My scattered moan wasn’t.
As he began to crinkle the bottom of my dress in his fingers, I did nothing more than maintain eye contact.
“How many weapons are you carrying?” he asked.
“I assume your intent is to discover just how dangerous I am.”
“Mmm… You are so correct.” The second he slid his fingers under my dress, the tips of his fingers touching my skin, my mind floated to all the filthy places we’d already been.
He crouched lower, the wicked smile never leaving his face.
My beloved knife, which he found almost immediately, was strapped to my calf.
I didn’t react with anything other than a smile of my own.
His grin was a strangely evocative method of approval.
But as the brush of his callused fingers breached my inner thigh, I sucked in my breath.
The tickling sensations could possibly derail my fortitude.