CHAPTER 31 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
I ’M NOT SURE WHY I thought effort would have been made to this room.
Standing at the back of my office, I glance around.
The cleaner hasn’t been in. It’s obvious from my overflowing bin and stack of paperwork on the desk.
There’s even an old cup of coffee, as well as the dirty whiskey tumblers from yesterday.
Okay, so I didn’t expect flowers or the room to be festooned with bows and ribbons. It’s hardly a ceremony to celebrate, but I’d thought it would at least be clean .
My office, along with the whole club, is cleaned on a daily basis. Everywhere else I’ve walked through today sparkles, so why not here?
My eyes track to Liam slouching on a chair, looking blasé but with a dash of triumph. My blood pressure hitches. I wouldn’t put it past him to instruct the cleaners not to clean my office today. Anything to score points.
I’m on the verge of accusing him of this when I notice the registrar looking at his watch.
Even that cunt hasn’t bothered. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt isn’t what I’d class as acceptable attire for conducting a fucking wedding!
I’ve paid the bastard enough, and with what I’ve shelled out, he could afford ten handmade fucking suits and still have plenty of change!
My irritation spikes further as it hits me there is no sign of Arianna. Oscar was sent to fetch her ages ago, so where the hell is she? I don’t like being kept waiting. Ever .
My scowl deepens. She’d better not have changed her mind at last knockings.
With rising fury, I turn my glare back to Liam. Has he said or done something? Is Oscar on board too? All part of their plan to do whatever it takes to ensure the marriage, which everyone is so vehemently against, does not happen?
I then search Del’s face for signs he expects this to fall flat on its face, but there’s nothing in his stance or expression to suggest that.
I clench my teeth. Arianna had better hurry up. This is what was agreed, and if it doesn’t happen today, I’ll look ridiculous when the press arrive in an hour for my “special announcement”.
The door suddenly opens and my head jerks around. Christ, I’m acting like a real groom, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his bride. What the fuck is the matter with me?
As Oscar enters, followed by Arianna, relief avalanches. She’s here! Thank fuck!
And... And she looks stunning !
My throat goes dry as my eyes run the full length of Arianna’s body encased in a beautiful white gown which clings to every curve. Although I’d already noticed her perfect figure, I hadn’t appreciated just how superb it is.
I know I’m making it obvious I’m drinking in every inch of this woman, but how can I not?
Any red-blooded male would do the same. The low-cut, jeweled bodice showcases her cleavage; her tiny waist aches for my hands around it and the curve of her perfectly proportioned hips leading into shapely legs, covered with flowing soft material to pool around her feet, is enough to break me.
Finally, I move my focus to her face, which looks equally stunning.
Her flawless skin glows and is framed by raven hair cascading in waves around her bare shoulders.
Arianna looks down, unable to meet my eyes.
She’s gorgeous. More gorgeous than ever.
And she will be my wife.
The familiar ache in my groin makes itself known until I remember that this is as far as I’ll get.
Look, not touch.
“Shall we get started?”
Jerked from my trance, I turn towards the voice of the registrar, who sounds like he’s got a thousand-a-day cigarette habit.
“Would the bride and groom please come to stand by this... erm... this ‘desk’ and take each other’s hands.” He looks around the room. “Will the remaining... erm... guests, please stand.”
Such is her reticence, Arianna moves the short distance from the door to stand next to me so painstakingly slowly, it’s uncomfortable to watch. She still won’t look at me, but right now, I find that both endearing and a further turn-on.
I clear my throat and concentrate on what needs to be done.