Page 7 of Shameless Vows

Even Malachi.

But Joaquin, my sisters, Colin and Elle, and my parents will all be on a private jet back to the States in the morning. And I’ll be here at the mercy of a husband who hates me.

But then again,Iapparently have killed a man for hurting me. I just don’t remember doing it.

I wonder if I could bring myself to kill Malachi if I had to.

I ponder this while muted activity picks up again in the room as the wedding coordinator enters and starts giving instructions. Just as I take my brother’s hand to stand up from the chair, and my sisters smooth the long, full, satin skirt of my gown, and Elle adjusts my tiara and strokes my hair while she meets my gaze with a look of love and solidarity, I realize I know the answer.

I couldn’t.

I would sooner let Malachi murdermebefore I ever raised a hand to him.

After all, he already killed me once eleven years ago when he disappeared without a trace, and then killed me again when he reappeared as a twisted, cruel, alternative version of the man I always loved.

ISLA

Twelve Years Old

MAMÁ HAS ALWAYS BEEN legendary for her stunning and elegant parties and social events, and our annual Christmas party was no different. In the massive ballroom of our Southampton estate, a hundred or so guests glided across the marble floor, dressed jewel-toned finery amidst warm, gold lighting from the glittering chandeliers. Rich evergreen garlands adorned with sparkling red ornaments draped over the wide arched windows, and six towering, yet fat and fluffy Christmas trees lined the walls on either side of the space. A big band crooned swanky arrangements of Christmas classics from a stage up front, and tuxedo-clad waitstaff zipped around the room with colorful holiday cocktails on their trays.

My parents made the rounds with their friends and colleagues, and my siblings mingled in and out of the crowd, swiping sweets from a dessert table and knowing it was the one night of the year they could get away with it. I was twelve years old and trapped in that awkward phase between girlhood and my teen years, feeling oh-so-grown-up in a strappy red dress that matched the garnet ornaments that hung from the Christmas trees. The stylist who swept Mamá’s hair into a sophisticated chignon had graciously taken the extra time to transform my mass of long, charcoal waves into fat, shiny, flawless curls. And once Mamá was distracted, I’d snuck into her dressing room to sweep on some mascara and red lipstick.

I stared at my reflection, a slender, girlish figure, with only small lumps of new breasts, but that filled out the top of my dressenough. A face that, with make-up, couldalmostpass for maybe fifteen or so. But I looked pretty and a little more mature, and I made a silent wish thathewould agree.

Heand his family had returned from Corwick only the day before in preparation to spend the Christmas holiday at their estate next door, and they were planning to attend Mamá’s party. I hadn’t seenhimsince summer, and something had changed in me that summer. I had loved him for as long as I could remember, but with all the other changes happening in my body, it seemed something had changed in my heart as well.

It was the year I had started fallinginlove with Malachi.

And tonight was the night I hoped to find out if all his promises about us running away to live in his Corwick palace when we grew up were meant as Malachi and his sister-like-friend, Isla, or Malachi and Isla, his love.

Standing on the edge of the ballroom, I waited and discreetly scanned my gaze while trying not to pick at my freshly-polished fingernails. King Andrew and Queen Deirdre were there, making the rounds with old friends. I spotted sixteen-year-old Philipp for a second before he snuck out of the ballroom with a glass of champagne held inconspicuously low at his side, but I hadn’t seen Malachi yet. I wanted to make sure I saw him first so I could make sure my posture was just right, with my hip thrown to one side in an effort to exaggerate the not-quite-existent curve of my figure.

Unfortunately for me and my still mostly-gangly body, he spotted me first.

A finger poked into the center of my back, and I startled before whipping around.

I scoffed and swatted his arm. “Malachi,” I hissed. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Dimples pulled deep into his cheeks as a wide, blinding-white smile stretched across his face. His typically-tousled, black-as-coal hair was combed back, but one strand hung over his glinting, pewter eyes like it always did. Wearing a black suit jacket and white shirt over black pants, he suddenly looked about eighteen years old, rather than just shy of fifteen.

“Isla, why are you standing on the edge of the room, staring at everyone like a stalker?” he teased with a light chuckle.

I swatted him again, rolling my eyes as I turned away coyly and pretended like I was trying to ignore him. It had exactly the effect I hoped for, and he slipped his hand around the crook of my elbow and moved his face near the side of my head.

“Come here,” he whispered. “I want to show you something.”

Malachi tugged my arm, and I followed him out of the ballroom and down one of the long, candle-lit corridors to the opposite end of the manor.

The music from the party drifted quietly through the crisp air of the empty spaces, and the scent of cinnamon and clove filled my lungs. The atmosphere crackled with holiday magic as Malachi led me toward the den clear on the other side of the house.

“What do you want to show me that I’ve probably already seen since this is literallymy house?” I queried, full of snark, but still coy.

“I was noticing all of your mom’s decorations.” He pulled me to a stop in an archway that separated one section of the expansive den from another, and then pointed at the ceiling. “Do you know what that is?”

I didn’t even have to glance up to know it was mistletoe, and simply arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, I do.”

Another captivating half-smile tugged at his mouth as he leaned toward me, looking so mischievous that I nearly burst out laughing. “Do you know what youhaveto do if you stand under it with someone?”

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