Page 51 of Salvaged Hearts

“Spectacularly stunning in blue,” Greyson’s low voice cut through the space as gently as a guillotine, the gooseflesh pebbling across my skin again.Damn hormones.Elora shot him a glare that lesser men would cower beneath, but Broderick—ever the gentleman—stepped in, extending a hand as the warm umber skin around his brown eyes crinkled with his smile.

“That she is,” he agreed as Greyson accepted the gesture of goodwill. “Broderick Allen, nice to meet you in person, Greyson.”

“The pleasure is all mine. You’re the professor?” Impressed with his recall, I smiled between the two of them as my new brother-in-law nodded.

“Guilty as charged. We’re not as boring as we sound, I swear.”

“Debatable,” I teased under my breath, laughing when Elora pinched my side.

“Mr. Hart,” she said cordially, not bothering to reach for him. I pinched her back. With a huff, she reached out a hand and added, “Thank you for hosting us this weekend.”

“My pleasure.”

Expression unflinching, head held tall, and tone dripping with promise, El said, “We’ll see about that.”

Broderick cleared his throat as Ollie, Leigh, Mattie, and Beau sidled up beside us. Grinning at a curious-looking Mattie, he asked, “Who’s this sweetheart?”

Somehow, Greyson not onlysurvivedthe next forty-eight hours of relentless inquisition but managed to win over my family. Well—Brod, Pax, Rhyett, Brex, and baby Quinny.

Elora could give Elsa a run for her money with her ice queen routine. She might back my decisions, but under no uncertain terms would she be showing Greyson anything but the wrath he’d face if this ended poorly.

I loved her all the more for it. That unyielding loyalty.

Growing up, it was always my four towering, big brothers that warded off dates, but in reality, they all should’ve been afraid of El and Leighton. However, even Leigh wasn’t immune to the relentless charm of the Hart brothers despite her valiant effort.

I blamed Mattie and her adoration for them.

But between gifts in their rooms, a menu to accommodate Brexley and Quinn’s new dietary restrictions, and a bar stocked with my father’s favorites, Greyson expertly whittled away at the image ofHartlessand started to carve a new picture in their minds in the blink of an eye.

By Saturday afternoon, my six-four daddy had unshed tears in his gray eyes as he handed me over to my groom with our feet planted in the scalding sand, and if I was unmistaken, bothPaxton and Rhyett were dabbing at their eyes as we exchanged our vows. The laptop live stream stared back at us with nine screens—eight of my blood siblings, plus Max. Their love for me somehow warmed my chest while guilt clawed into my belly.

But the moment Greyson turned on me with a sun-kissed smile, stretching his cheeks and wrinkling the skin beside those warm green eyes, sent my world rocking. He played his part too well as he finished the ceremony with his expertly written vows, a slight shake to his hands where they held the paper. Mine had been handed to me Thursday night—no doubt a gift from his speech writer.

“Hello,Mrs. Hart,” he whispered huskily after the minister pronounced us husband and wife. As that rasp worked over my skin, my body forgot. Forgot it was a role as he stroked a big palm down the side of my face to the frantic click of camera shutters, whoops and cheers of my mother, Leigh and Mattie, and the applause of the guys.

“Hello.” I smiled back as he pulled my body to his. Nobody could ever accuse Greyson of not knowing exactly how to handle a woman. Just his touch on my waist sent my nerves soaring.Brilliant bastard.

With his adoring fiancé mask firmly in place, he tucked my hair behind my ears, slowly cupping my face with his big hands before bringing his lips to mine.

It started slow.

Hesitant.

All too aware of the audience witnessing our first kiss. Damn, I should’ve thought of that. Should’ve thought to practice in case we sucked at this. But Greyson didn’t need practice. No, the man claimed me right there under the sun on an island bearing his last name.

But as my heart raced and heat blossomed in my belly, I pulled the air from his lips and filled my lungs with his scent.

Before I realized it, my hands were on his exposed skin, nearly clawing at the buttons still holding the fabric together. Relishing in the tickle of his chest hair against the pads of my fingers.God, I loved chest hair.

Greyson’s hands slid through my long tresses, knotting my hair around a fist as he angled my chin up for him. Years of pent-up frustration channeled through to this moment—a war between wills, a clash of lips, tongues, and teeth.

Tender turned demanding.

Pretense turned feral as he pressed my lips apart, and I opened for him, melting under the southern sun and urgency of his mouth against mine. If the company was his kingdom,thiswas his battleground. A king on a conquest. Judging by the possession in his hold, I was the prize.

It’s said that we do everything…like we doeverything, and while Greyson’s initial movements were as calm and calculated as his ability to conquer any boardroom, they gave way to something…primal.

He wrapped an arm around my back, locking me to him as our family applauded with two claps to each soft growl of the ocean. The hand on my neck angled up to grip my jaw possessively, angling me just so. His tongue plundered all sense from my brain as he took what he needed from me, returning more fervor than I could’ve asked for.

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