From This Day Forward (Seven Wives for Seven Brothers #2)

Prologue

Jacob sipped on his first and only drink of the night.

He wasn’t much of a social drinker—maybe one or two in the evening at home after a trying day at the office.

He sat at a table in the far corner, in the dark, away from everyone.

It was getting late, and his brothers and grandfather had all gone home.

The only relief for this tumultuous day was having them here to support him.

He should be happy; he was married and settling down, but instead he was hidden in a dark corner wondering what the hell had he gotten himself into.

He gazed at his guests having fun on the dance floor, noting people of different heights, colors, sexes and then finally to the white dress in the center of it all.

Her dark, curly hair cascading down her back, unraveled from the pinned-up look she wore, her eyes bright, her head thrown back repeatedly in a laugh; she raised a flute of champagne to her lips, emptying it.

The waiter caught it in time before it fell to the floor, already forgotten, as she began to sway back and forth to the music.

Sierra was in her element, the center of attention where she always wanted to be.

She was stunning in that wedding dress, created by only the best designer that money could buy.

He had to admit when she walked down the aisle, his heart had raced at the sight of her, the way the dress lovingly displayed her tiny curves and the swell of her breasts.

His loins had responded as they always did when she was near.

He had fallen under her spell, and she had become an addiction he could not quite shake.

He realized too late that the woman he had been attracted to at first sight was not who he thought she was and now he was good and trapped, betrayed by his own body every time she was near and in one moment of weakness, his fate was sealed.

A voice interrupted his somber mood. “Is your wife drunk already?” The man sneered, disgust in his voice.

Jacob turned to the Senator, his now father-in-law.

Sierra’s father was dark-skinned with salt-and-pepper hair, slim build with a regal carriage.

Her mother, who passed away when she was a child, had been a light-skinned woman, born and raised in Montreal.

She had met the Senator when she traveled to Washington to work as a White House intern, eventually becoming a professor teaching politics as her husband ran for office.

He checked the dance floor in time to see her twirl around in her dress and almost lose her footing; she laughed when a guest caught her hand and steadied her, soon waving over a different waiter and grabbing another flute off his tray.

The Senator’s commanding tone silenced Jacob before he could speak.

“She’s your responsibility now, get her under control before she embarrasses you, your family, and me.

I have an up-and-coming charity event that I will be networking at to get more sponsors, and I do not need the scandal of how drunk my daughter is at her own wedding. ”

The man glared at him, dark brown eyes seething, and Jacob nodded before downing the rest of his drink. The glass clunked against the table before he pushed his way through the crowd and to his so-called pregnant wife.