Page 98 of Stalking Ginevra

I tear my gaze from him and meet the smirk of my old law professor, Remus Cortese. What’s he doing here?

My heart pounds against the sequins digging into my ribs. The walls close in, and I squint against the bright lights. I would scream or even run, but the alternative to marrying a man who hates me is a hundred times worse.

The Elvis impersonator clears his throat, making me flinch. “We are gathered here today…”

His voice is a caricatured Southern drawl. Any other day, it would be comical, but Benito’s gaze locks onto the side of my face like a hungry predator.

Every bone in this dress crushes my lungs, stealing my air. Black dots appear on the edges of my vision. I blink them away, trying to focus on the impersonator, but his words blend into the background noise of my pounding heart.

My legs threaten to collapse, but I lock my knees, refusing to fall.

“Do you, Benito Montesano, take this woman…”

The words dissipate into a fog of panic, only broken when Benito says, “I do.”

When it’s my turn, the words stick in my throat, but I manage to choke out, “I do.”

Elvis grins, his wig slipping to the side. I’m so entranced by how it seems to have a life of its own that I don’t notice Benito’s hand until it’s gripping mine, and he stares into my eyes with an intensity that could reduce me to ash.

The air thickens until every molecule smacks me in the face. There’s no escape now that I’ve sealed my fate.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Benito’s eyes darken to molten pools of black, making my heart skip several beats. He grips my waist and pulls me against his larger body with a force that steals my breath. Blood roars between my ears, and my nostrils fill with the heady scent of his sandalwood cologne.

All traces of his cold indifference evaporates in the heat of his gaze, and my muscles relax with relief. Exhaling away my tension, I wonder if we can finally make something work.

Before I can even complete that thought, his lips crash down on mine with a fervor that leaves my mind reeling. The room tilts, the lights spinning like a carousel.

All sensations rush south, and I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from fainting.

This kiss is wild, overwhelming, all-consuming. It floods my senses with heat and drowns out my terror. I’m swept up in his passion, unable to resist the feel of his mouth, which devours mine as though staking his claim.

He parts my lips with his tongue, making my heart somersault. My knees buckle, and I collapse against his chest, but his arm keeps me anchored within the storm.

I’m lost in Benito. Every rational thought washes away with his intensity. My world narrows to the feel of his lips, the mint on his tongue, the way he dominates me so completely.

My body can’t tell if it’s thrilled or terrified.

But when his erection presses into my belly, hot and thick and insistent, my panic ratchets to eleven. He’s aroused. He’s going to expect sex. I can’t face the demands of yet another man.

When he finally pulls back, I’m swaying on my feet, gasping and half-blinded by a lack of oxygen. Sparks of sensation crackle along my lips, and my mind won’t stop spinning.

This isn’t the Benito I knew. He was patient. Gentle. This man and his kiss has shattered every expectation, leaving me weak.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Elvis says, his voice barely registering over the roar of my blood.

The moment Benito draws back to meet my eyes, my knees buckle. I grip his jacket, trying to stay upright, but the dark spots spinning in my vision overwhelm the glaring lights.

His arm locks around my shoulders, pulling me back to his chest like I’m his prize. My lungs burn, and panic flares in my chest like a caged bird beating against my ribs.

Professor Cortese slides a pen into my fingers, and Benito guides my hand toward the marriage license. I sign, my handwriting shaky. The ink is barely dry when Benito snatches the paper, his eyes glinting with something dark.

I belong to the man whose heart I broke, and there’s no turning back.

Professor Cortese takes the license from Benito. He writes his signature with a flourish and turns back to us with an innuendo-laden congratulations.

I manage a nod, my throat tight, the weight of the day pressing on every nerve. Every fine hair on my body stands onend, and I feel like the world’s dumbest prey animal, especially since I’m caught in Benito’s gaze.

---