Page 14 of The Bratva's Innocent Sold Bride
“You may now kiss the bride.”
My head snapped up, jerking me out of my daze. Mat grinned down at me, and the whole charade seemed real for a split second, the blink of an eye. His mouth was on mine, soft and warm and possessing. I was his.
I jerked away, forcing a shy smile at the last second. Everyone stood and applauded and cheered as if we were rock stars. Outside the sanctuary, Mat pulled me into a small office, his hands firm on my arms.
“I know,” I said before he could remind me what was at stake. “I’m sorry.”
His dazzling blue eyes flashed confusion as he looked down at me, his face flushed with pride. “What do you have tobe sorry for? I only wanted a moment alone with you before everyone surrounds us.”
He truly looked amazing in his bespoke tuxedo, the fine fabric molding to his broad shoulders. And he wasn’t berating me for pulling away from his kiss.
Because he was giving me another. Longer, deeper, with his hands sliding down my arms to slip around my waist and pull me close. Even with all the satin between us, I could feel the hard planes of his abs, chest, and hips. Once again, my palms glided up his chest as if it were a well-worn path they’d taken many times. I gripped his shoulders as his tongue swept between my lips.
“You were so beautiful up there. I didn’t hear a word of the vows.”
No one, not even my parents, had ever called me beautiful. I was maybe pretty or cute. Someone once said I had a regal air, but they were most likely sucking up. Hearing someone like Mat call me that and mean it was a difficult sensation to deny.
He was far older, far more powerful, rich beyond even what I could imagine, apparently, and he thought I was beautiful.
His hands moved lower, pulling the voluminous mass of my skirts up and up. He laughed against my mouth as I opened it to him. Rising up on my toes, my breasts rubbed against him, and even under the thick layer of beads and lace, my nipples hardened. He broke away from my mouth, and before I could come to my senses, they were reeling from the feel of his lips edging down the side of my throat.
Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes, finding my fingers in his dark hair, a bit too long for a respectablebusinessman, and so soft that I sighed. His chuckle reverberated against my neck, and he kissed his way lower as I breathed in again. He smelled like soap, sandalwood, and the wool of his jacket. Leaning closer, I tugged on his hair.
I wanted his mouth on mine again. The tickling trail was getting too close to my chest, my heart was pounding too fast, and if he got much lower, it might explode. And whatever saints were in charge of this church, they weren’t helping me to resist.
As he raised his head, there was a knock at the door. The spell was broken. I jumped back and swirled my skirt around my ankles, made sure no beads were stuck to his jacket, and patted my heated cheeks.
“Go away,” Mat growled.
His brother’s laughing voice answered, telling him people were waiting.
The receiving line and the ride to the club for the reception were a nightmare. I mentally tore myself a new one for melting all over him again, and could barely remember anything I said or who I said it to. In the car, I pretended it was of the utmost importance to fix my makeup before the reception, and once we were there, I was swept up by well-wishers.
It was only during dinner that I got a reprieve. Mat couldn’t exactly start making out with me at our table—well, he could, he could do whatever he wanted, but he was traditional enough not to. I only knew what we were having: lobster, some kind of steak, and a vegetarian option, because I had been involved in the planning. What I actually ate and what it tasted like were questions I couldn’t have answered.
Mat’s words in the dressing room came back to me as his brother Daniil was giving a toast. Everything was going to change after the ceremony. At the time, I took it to mean I mightbe able to live my life normally, even try to get my job back. But Mat shut that down fast enough. So, the only thing that could possibly change hit me hard enough to make me choke on my champagne. Mat rubbed my back, leaning down to make sure I was all right.
“It was a pretty funny speech, wasn’t it?” he asked.
I agreed, glad to have an excuse for nearly spitting wine all over the table. I looked at Mat, who didn’t seem that dangerous at the moment, surrounded by his huge and loving family, but the facts remained. He was dangerous. His huge and loving family was all in the Bratva and would destroy anyone they perceived as an enemy, including me, if I didn’t toe the line.
“You said things are going to change,” I said.
He nodded, leaning close to nuzzle my cheek. “Everything will be different.”
Heat flooded me. The strange desire I couldn’t seem to fight, and fear, lots of that coursed through me. I would no longer be sleeping in the guest room.
Now it was my maid of honor’s turn to give a speech, and she rambled on about how she thought I wouldn’t get married until my clock was about to run down, making everyone laugh. But of course, true love won, and there I was. If only she knew, she’d run screaming from the place. I shoved the bedroom situation to the background and forced myself to laugh along with everyone else.
When it was time for the father-daughter dance, I faltered as I stood. Dad waited for me, hand extended, and everyone was watching with gooey smiles on their faces. I had to keep up appearances, but I could hardly look at him. He was just a pathetic shadow of the man I always idolized.
“I’m sorry, CJ. You know this is killing me.”
I snapped, nerves too fraught for his pity party. “No, this is keeping you alive,” I reminded him.
He stifled a sob, but everyone probably thought he was just going through the bittersweet emotions of giving up his little girl. If only they knew that already happened two weeks ago.
“If you can get information to me, I might be able to fix this,” he continued as the song droned on. “Maybe I can get you out.”
