Page 14 of Mad Love

“Granger, Collins, please take your positions next to the bride and the groom.”

Granger takes a spot next to me, and Collins, next to Blaise.

“Dearly beloved, we are here to witness the joining of two hearts and two souls. Maddox Stassi, do you take Blaise Lexington to be your wife until death do you part?”

“I do.”

Blaise doesn’t remove her glove. Glancing down to hide my irritation, I slip the gold band over her gloved finger.

“Blaise Lexington, do you take Maddox Stassi to be your husband until death do you part?”

“I do.”

Silence followed by deafening silence. I look up. Blaise is staring at my hand. Granger clears his throat. Collins is shifting from foot to foot. And the minister . . . The poor bastard is giving me a pitying look.

Jesus, they’re all waiting for me to hold out my hand to her.

Cranking my head side to side before I go ballistic and shred the contract to pieces, I begrudgingly concede and hold out my hand. Without touching my finger, she slides on the thick gold band before her hand falls to her side again. Precise. Methodical. Lacking any emotion even on her wedding day. Blaise Lexington is indeed an ice queen.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

There’s no kissing. No touching. My wife tips her chin at me, thanks the minister, and hurries out the door and into the SUV, the sound of her heels clicking on the cement floor echoing in the warehouse.

Granger thanks the minister, then follows me and Collins out. They’re silent. I’m fuming. Is this how the marriage will play out, with coldness and disdain?

“Patience is a virtue, and in darkness, there is light. Give Blaise the gift of time and you won’t regret accepting her proposal.”

“Still speaking for her, eh, Granger?”

“Just give her time. That’s all I’m asking for for my friend.”

I study him beneath hooded eyes. A friend, huh? Give her time? To have the X-R 85, I’m willing to let the ice queen stay at my penthouse. What I won’t tolerate is giving in to her every whim. I do not compromise. I do not concede. I won’t make promises past the maximum three months.

With how cold Blaise is, save for the short burst of humor, she’s not my type.

Then why can’t I stop staring at the ring on my hand and wondering if with time and patience, she will melt beneath my touch and open to me as she’s never done with any man, including her scarred lover?

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