Page 56 of Royally Arranged

Considering me as she stood by the door, she tilted her head. “Nothing more than I imagine you’re worried about.”

I half tripped in midstep.She knows I’m upset about them hating me.Her attention to detail had always been keen. It drove home the bitter reality between us andthem. Suddenly I imagined Thorne’s family teasing him the way Darla had teased me. Were they instructing him not to get too close?

Did he think that loving me would complicate things?

That sobering thought settled in my belly like a bucket of wet sand. If I wasn’t already taking small steps, it would have slowed me down on the way to the aisle. My mother went ahead, servants escorting me toward the rose garden, where the ceremony was.

This whole wedding ... all these smiling faces and flowers ... it was all a sham. I’d known that before boarding the plane to fly to Torino.

I was here to do a job.

It was okay if what Hawthorne and I had never evolved beyond sweaty fun.

I could handle being married to someone without love.

I could have a baby with him ... without love.

Couldn’t I?

Lifting my eyes as I exited into the fresh air, I saw Thorne. He was standing at the end of the rose petals scattered along the white paper roll on the grass. The black tuxedo he wore brought out the richness of his eyes—it enhanced the hard corners of his shoulders and his slim hips.

He was unquestionably male: powerful, stylish. Ever since I’d seen him shirtless, I’d thought about the tattoos he kept secret from the world. I knew they were there, covering every inch of his body, stopping only at his wrists and throat. I hoped I was one of only a few who knew about them. It made me feel ... special.

He hadn’t blinked since our eyes had met. The sight of him washed away every doubt in my mind. I forgot what I’d been thinking about. I forgot how to breathe.

An arm wrapped around mine firmly. My father looked down on me with benevolence. But I knew he wasn’t proud of me. He was happy he was getting what he wanted. That was all he’d ever cared about.

I let him walk me down the aisle. Thorne’s presence was magnetic. Drawn to him, I was able to forget, for a little bit, that we’d only gotten to know each other recently. I could pretend we were old friends who had shared everything on their path to marriage.

At his side stood his older brother. Costello looked like a silver sword someone had stuck into the ground, something from a legend that couldn’t be pried free no matter how hard you tried. The jagged scar across his nose enhanced the threat in his face as he observed my approach. This man loved his brother. He did not love me.

Beside him was Kain. He, too, looked handsome in his tailored suit. He’d have looked better without the distrust seething in his glare. All at once I became aware of the other eyes on me. This family who thought I was their enemy, each of them here to support Thorne—but not our marriage.

Hawthorne inhaled, the sound packed with a million things: hunger, lust, appreciation. Looking into his eyes was enough to lift away the darkness. His smile ... the excitement and longing in his stare ... it made me forget my fear.

My father released me. Hovering in front of Thorne, his hands curled lightly at his sides. It was customary to shake the groom’s hand. I waited to see what they’d both do.

Kurtis started to sway backward.He isn’t going to do it.But then Thorne reached out, snatching the man’s hand, gripping hard. He yanked him in close for a hug so theatrical that people in the audience who didn’t know them clapped. Both of them were grinning.

I was close enough to hear Thorne whisper, “The only good thing you ever did was make her.”

The fireball in my chest flared hotter.

Dad let go, his grin still solid. He moved away until he was sitting beside my mother in the front row.

There were no vows. Just lots of yammering about decorum, royal history, and the expectations that came with being husband and wife. Becoming queen to the king. I tuned everything out. The priest was speaking, but I kept staring at Thorne, trying to see into his head.

He had a habit of keeping his real feelings hidden behind sarcasm. I’d seen it again and again. I wasn’t used to his silence. I’d never had a more intimate chance to gaze on his face without him being able to make a joke and turn away.

“The ring,” the priest said.

Darla held her hands out to me so she could take my bouquet. I passed it off, and, as I did, I spotted her envious frown. I’d never seen that pointed atme.

Long fingers curled around my wrist. Thorne turned me to him, a simple platinum ring in his other hand. He slid the cool metal onto my finger so that it caressed the engagement ring he’d put there only a week ago.

“Hawthorne Fredricson,” the priest said, loud enough for the crowd. “Do you take this woman, with everything she brings, with everything shewillbring, to have at your side for as long as you both shall live?”

Deep down, I was sure he’d say yes. Who could go this far and say no? Even with that certainty, my throat constricted. My heart was going to burst. It had to, this was too much for one person to bear.

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