Chapter 40
Wedding Day
“You shouldn’t be seeing me today—except at the wedding ceremony,” she says the moment I step into the room.
I know that. I read a bit about the traditions, but I didn’t want us to stand in front of the wedding officiant without having aligned our compasses first.
She’s wearing nothing but a robe that clings to her beautiful body like a second skin.
I don’t know if it’s because the ceremony is so close—when we’ll officially be each other’s—or because I’ve already seen her naked, but she doesn’t try to pull the silk any tighter, even though it’s slightly open.
Her hair is pinned high on her head, and I wish she’d let it down. Everything about my princess is about freedom, and I want it cascading down her back—long, wild, just like her personality.
We haven’t had a moment alone since the few guests—Kaled and my friends, as well as Josephine and Athol—arrived, so I decided to send social conventions straight to hell.
“I needed to come.”
“Why?”
“It makes no sense for us to say our vows in front of a wedding officiant while we’re at odds with each other.”
“We’re not at odds.”
“Liar.”
“That’s disrespectful. You shouldn’t speak like that, Your Grace.”
“Then yell at me! I don’t want this submissive, resigned princess act. I want my untamed girl.”
“You’re insane!” she says, turning her back on me, but not before I catch a half-smile.
Finally.
She hasn’t spoken to me since that business about not trapping me.
Does she think that’s why I don’t want children?
“I have to agree, my fiancée,” I say, using the term she calls me by. “I’m more insane about you every day.” I wrap my arms around her from behind, burying my face in her neck.
She turns to face me. “You really prefer me untamed?”
“Jazmina, I want you. The full package, not a doll programmed to be what others expect her to be.”
She loops her arms around my neck. “How can you be so unbearable one moment and so perfect the next?”
“I’m far from perfect, but the unbearable role fits me like a glove. Just so I know, what am I being accused of this time?”
She hides her face against my chest. “I don’t want to talk about it because it’ll make me sad. Even if this isn’t a real marriage . . .”
I silence her with a kiss. “It’s a real marriage in every way that matters. We desire each other, and there’s no one I enjoy being with more than you. Isn’t that a good start?”
Her forehead rests against my chest. “Yes. It is.”
There’s no one else here now.
That’s exactly how I feel. Obsessed with my now wife.
Somehow, the ceremony felt all wrong.
She smiled, said her vows, and when I pulled her into our first kiss as husband and wife, she returned it with such intensity that for a moment I thought the bad atmosphere was just in my head.
But the feeling lingers. Jazmina deserves more. I want to give her more, and I don’t know how.
“Come with me?”
“Don’t we have to have dinner with the guests now?”
“They can wait a few minutes.”
I bend down and scoop her into my arms. I hear laughter from our guests—Kaled included.
“Isn’t the tradition to carry me over the threshold later, when we arrive at the castle in the Highlands?” She almost sounds cheerful now, though not with her usual enthusiasm.
“We can do whatever we want,” I say as I carry her into the library, then remember my resolve. “That said, I can follow every tradition if you want. Even the four-day wedding in Rheadur.”
God, help me.
No sacrifice is too great if it makes her smile.
“Why?”
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing anything.”
“I’m fine.”
“And that’s exactly what’s wrong. You shouldn’t be fine; you should be happy. I think I can fix that.” I activate the panel to the safe again.
“What are you doing?”
“I was already planning this, but I don’t have a chest, unfortunately.”
“A chest?”
“Yes.” I start taking out the jewelry boxes belonging to my family—not just my mother’s but those of past generations as well.
She stands up. “Why are you doing this?” she asks when I decide there are enough boxes on the table in front of her, now completely covered in velvet cases of various sizes and colors.
“I’m giving you your mahr. Mahr? Is that how it’s pronounced?” She stares at me without saying a word, and I’m nervous as hell. Did I mess up again? Did I offend her? “Um . . . anyway, if you don’t like something, I—”
She throws herself into my arms so fast she almost knocks me over. It takes me a second to steady us both.
“I didn’t want to offend you, but I know it’s customary in your culture . . .”
“You looked up my people’s traditions?”
“Yes. I got a little mixed up, though. It was supposed to be given during the ceremony.”
“I don’t care. Just the fact that you thought about it . . .”
“What?”
She cups my face. “Don’t make me fall in love with you if you don’t want me permanently in your life, Rodrick.”
I hold her tighter, certainty cutting through me like a blade.
I do want you. I just don’t know if you’ll want me on the day you truly discover who I am.
Wedding Night
“Don’t be offended by what I’m about to say, but I like this castle better. It’s so cozy . . . and when we come here, we won’t need many servants.”
“How do you know you like it when you haven’t seen anything yet?”
I’m carrying her in my arms again, this time honoring the tradition of carrying the bride into our home—symbolically speaking, of course. I own so many properties around the world, and even here in Scotland, that following it literally would be impossible.
“Can’t you feel the vibe of this place?”
I stop walking. “What?”
“I feel a different energy here. I can’t explain it, but I love this castle. What is it?”
“It’s the place I consider to be my true home.”
“Then it’ll be our home now.”
My throat tightens. I’ve never truly experienced this concept of family. I lost my mother very young, and my father—unsure of what to do with me, I suppose—soon married Iona.
“Yes, our home, my wife,” I say, pushing away the bad memories.
“You’re possessive.”
“If I denied it, I’d be a liar.”
“I like it that way. Everything about you. Everything we are together.”
I reach our bedroom, but instead of stopping at the suite, I carry her into the bathroom. “You said your shoes were hurting your feet. I’ll run you a bath.”
“Alone?” she asks, blushing.
“Do you want company?” I shoot back, just to tease her, because judging by the color of her face, she’s not ready for that yet.
I sit her on the counter and remove the murderous shoes. I kiss one foot, then the other.
“You’re a contradiction, Rodrick. And you mess with my head far too much.”
“And your heart?”
“My heart most of all.”