15. A Dream Wedding #3
The officiant began, his voice deep and melodic. It struck her as something she would hear during a documentary. It was a beautiful sound.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Iris Blackworth and Warrick Nash in the bonds of holy matrimony.
" Iris looked up and saw an expression of deep satisfaction rush over Nash's face.
"Marriage is a sacred institution, a union that brings two individuals together to share their lives, support one another, and grow together. "
She found herself tuning out the rest of his speech, getting lost in Nash's gaze. When it came time for the vows, Iris came to with a jerk.
She thought it would have been hard, promising herself to this man. That willingly tying herself to him would be difficult. But oh, how wrong she was. It felt right, somehow, to pledge herself to him. She repeated after the officiant happily.
"I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Until death do us part."
With each word she said, she watched the fire climb inside his eyes. Triumph and victory were written across his face for all to see. It didn't bother her. And when he said those same vows back to her, she knew her face was exactly the same.
She might be his, but he was just as much hers.
"It is my great honor to declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Nash barely let the officiant finish speaking before his arms wrapped around her and he claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. There was so much raw passion, it bordered on violence.
The gentle clapping from their few guests drove them apart. She looked up at her husband and couldn't stop the bright smile that took over her face. They were soon drug away by the photographer, who had them stand and pose for picture after picture.
The entire time, she couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't wait to see those pictures. She'd never felt so much joy at one time before.
"You look happy, wife," he practically purred into her ear as they were posed yet again against the setting sun.
"How could I not be?" She asked, before giving him a quick peck on the lips. "You gave me my dream wedding."
"Of course I did," he growled into her ear. His arms wrapped around her to pull her in close. "I told you I was going to make you happy. It's about time you started believing it."
And for the first time in her life, she did. She believed she was going to be happy in her life. Maybe she would get what she gave up on long ago. Her happily ever after.
She posed again and again, listening blindly to whatever the photographer asked of her. It was over sooner than she would have thought. The flash of the camera faded, and with a bright smile, the photographer told them she has everything she needed.
"I'm going to be around capturing candid shots of the reception, but you can pretend that I'm not here." Her smile was wide, and then the lens of her camera hid her face once more. Iris thanked her, watching as she walked around the small crowd.
Her eyes landed on the two men dressed in black who seemed to never take their eyes off the photographer. Her brow furrowed, then smoothed over. Security.
The sheer amount of guards he must have on site to give her this almost dropped her to her knees. All of this he did for her. She knew instinctually that he didn't care about the wedding for himself. He would have been happy with a trip to city hall.
He did this for her. She turned and looked up at her husband with a wide grin.
Jameson, ever the emotionally withdrawn father, stepped forward from where he had stood with a blank expression the entire time they had photos taken.
Iris tried to push away the discomfort his cold eyes brought forward.
With a practiced smile, she extended her hand to him and thanked him for coming.
All he offered her was a nod accompanied by a narrowed eyed glare.
It seemed too close to a threat for comfort. He turned to look at his son.
"Congratulations," he murmured, his eyes flickering away from both of them as soon as he uttered that single word.
"Jameson," at his pointed glare, she cleared her throat and corrected herself. For a moment, she forgot how much he had always disliked her. "Mr. Nash, are you not staying?" Iris sent a puzzled glance toward Nash when his father turned on his heel without bothering to answer her.
Nash merely offered a dismissive shrug, the sharp line of his jaw set in stone. "Don't mind him," he said, his deep voice wrapping around her like a vise, steering her gaze toward the gazebo that sat glowing in the distance. "He's nothing. We have more important things to be focusing on."
She looked at him and smiled. He was right, after all. Before, she barely crossed paths with Jameson Nash. She had no doubt she'd see him even less this time around. Now that Nash was the head of all the family holdings, she was sure he had even less reason to come around.
She couldn't bring herself to be upset about it.
With a nod of his head, he commanded everyone to follow him. The guests filtered through the dusk, unable to resist his orders. The group of them moved silently, drawn like moths to the lights of the large gazebo. Normally, the lack of chatter should have made it feel somber.
But Iris was anything but. No, a wide grin spread across her face as she looked ahead at the glittering pavilion up ahead.
It stood regal against the backdrop of the darkening waters, its interior transformed.
Gone was the comfortable beach furniture, and in their place were two long tables, both covered in white tablecloths.
There were flowers scattered everywhere, along with the elegant furnishings that were tastefully laid out.
A small table off to the side boasted a beautiful three-tiered wedding cake decorated in a bright white with deep purple flowers and intricate piping work.
Above them, a crystal chandelier hung shining brightly.
There were long strips of white linen that came out from the chandelier and skated along the ceiling before dropping down between the large openings between the wooden posts.
It was a wedding reception fit for a king and his queen.
Iris felt her lips turn up at the corners with that thought.
It was only fitting then. Nash, for all intents and purposes, was a king.
He word was law in certain circles, as she knew all to well.
As they approached, the light glittered off the fine china that was laid out.
One table had four places set out, and the other only two.
Nash led Iris with a possessive grip on her waist, guiding her up to the head table that sat elevated, removed from the rest. His blue eyes, bright even in the dimming light, scanned the room with the precision of a hawk, missing nothing, commanding everything.
She waited for him to say something, but he seemed content to just look out over the scene before them.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Iris attempted small talk, trying to pierce the veil of his brooding silence.
"Beautiful," he echoed, his tone low and gravelly, as if his mind was far away.
The tension between them was palpable, a living entity birthed from years of longing, hurt, and unspoken words. The power he exuded was intoxicating, dangerous; his darkness was both a warning and an aphrodisiac. She was powerless to fight its magnetic pull.
As they settled into their seats of honor, Ash made his way toward them, his steps hesitant, his expression one of forced neutrality.
But before he could get within three feet of them, Nash's glare struck him down like a silent bolt of lightning.
It was a look that spoke volumes, a clear message that he was not welcome at their table.
Ash paled, and then, with a stiff nod of his head, turned away from them.
Returning to his seat between Holly and Daisy.
Iris stared, confusion clouding her rich brown eyes. "Nash, why—"
"Leave it," Nash cut her off, the edge in his voice brooking no argument.
She flinched at his harsh tone, lowering her gaze to her plate.
He softened slightly, turning to her with a gaze that burned with intensity.
His hand came to grip her thigh through the thick layers of her wedding dress.
"Did you like it?" She knew exactly what he meant. The ceremony. The reception.
She stared at him, still thrown by the raw display of animosity but unable to deny the splendor of what he had given her—a wedding that she would never forget.
It was breathtaking, yes. But more than that, it showed her that her husband cared for her.
He knew her. In a way no one else had ever bothered to before.
This wedding was the best gift that he could have ever given her.
She was powerless to fight the smile that spread over her lips.
Nash watched her, the satisfaction in his eyes dark and primal. Heat rushed through her at his look. This was his world, and she was now irrevocably a part of it.
Iris tilted her head, the confusion in her gaze giving way to a spark of challenge. "Did I like what?" she teased, a smirk clear on her lips.
"Our wedding," he stated, his voice a low rumble that resonated with ownership. "Did you like it?"
Satisfaction flickered across Iris's delicate features before being replaced by an undeniable happiness that radiated from her smile.
The sun dipped below the horizon, splashing the sky with hues of fiery orange and dusky purple, casting a soft glow on the reception.
Her favorite time of day. It was intentional. She knew it was.