Page 3 of Bride Unwanted

“So, what’s your name?” I ask.

“Callie.”

Even her voice is sexy. I exhale loudly.

“I’m Talon. Talon Ricci. Pleased to meet you.” I chuckle.

I may as well have a sense of humor about all of this. Either that or insanity.

“Well, Callie, shall we?” I say, extending an arm.

She looks down at my arm, a look of almost confusion on her face. She must come to some sort of conclusion and accepts the invitation. I lead us to the front door. A limo is waiting outside on the street.

She pauses before climbing into the back seat. Whatever her motivation for doing this is losing the battle to fear. I don’t blame her. Fear is a powerful emotion. I must look like a criminal to her. Or at least not an upstanding citizen.

“I would never hurt a woman, Callie. No matter what you may have heard about my family. We don’t hurt women and children.”

I gently guide her to sit down. Waiting for her to clear her dress from the door, I closed it firmly.

Do I really want to give this woman a chance? The fact I’m not sure of my answer excites me. She’s certainly the first woman that has confused me on that. I go with my gut and decide to give it a try.

Worst-case scenario? I pay her a lot of money to go away. Opening the door, I sit down and loosen my tie. I open the minibar and pour out two shots of Disaronno. Handing her one, I clink our glasses and down mine, not waiting for her to drink hers.

She looks into her glass. Like she is making a wish that this is a dream. She downs the liquor with a funny face. Her wish apparently, not coming true.

3

CALLIE

He is not what I expected. Well, if that’s not the understatement of the century. His tall body hovers around me, almost protectively. I can barely bring myself to look at his handsome face without blushing. And every time he touches my hand, a million butterflies take flight in my stomach. I’m attracted to my new husband, and though that should calm my anxiety, it only makes me wonder what he hides under this perfect appearance of his. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something must be wrong with him.

He is young, tall, and handsome. From looking around his mansion, he is clearly not hurting for money either. So what brings a man like him to pay for a bride like me? What could I possibly offer him he couldn’t get for free from any woman in the city?

“I had the chef prepare a special dinner for us. We’ll eat alone so we can get to know each other,” Talon says, matter of fact. Which is something I’ve noticed he does a lot. He doesn’t ask questions or ask for permission. He is sure of himself and whatever he says.

“What restaurant are we going to?”

“The Lastrada,” he tells me, and my mouth pops open. I’ve heard of this restaurant, but I never thought I would actually go inside. Not only is it known to be one of the most expensive places in New York, there’s also a waiting list a mile long.

“Maybe I should have changed into some else?” I don’t know why I didn’t think about this before, but I’m still in my wedding dress, going to a very fancy restaurant that’s going to be packed with people. “I’m sure everybody will look at us with me still in my wedding dress.” I giggle.

“I’m sure they would stare either way,” Talon says, looking out of the window. I’m not quite sure what he means by that, but before I have the chance to ask, the limo stops in front of the Lastrada.

I look up at the bright neon sign in awe that I’m actually here. The driver gets out of the car and walks around to open the door for us. Talon steps out first, holding out his hand for me. I put my small hand in his much larger one. He closes his fingers around me as he helps me out of the back of the limo. Once again, his touch ignites something in me, an electricity I’ve never felt before. Maybe it’s all in my head, but I can’t help feeling that there is some kind of connection between us. A connection beyond the fact that we got married.

“Have you been here before?” Talon asks.

I can’t help but laugh at the question. “Oh god, no. I couldn’t even imagine before. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a fancy restaurant like this.”

Something unreadable washes over his face. I can’t figure out if he feels sorry for me or if he is just surprised. Either way, his facial expression changes quickly into a soft smile.

“You’re going to love it. Chef Pascal is the best, and he promised to prepare a once in a lifetime meal for us.”

All I can do is grin from ear to ear. What else could I possibly say as he whisks me inside the restaurant, where we are greeted by the prim hostess?

“Welcome back, Mr. Ricci. It’s a pleasure as always,” she greets Talon before giving me her full attention. Her eyes go wide as she takes in my wedding dress, but she quickly recovers and gives me a wide, friendly smile. “Oh, wow, you look stunning, Mrs. Ricci.”

I almost correct her, telling her that’s not my last name when I realize it is, in fact, my last name now.

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