Page 92 of Inconvenient Marriage
Cremation…
Oh.
Oh.
“I thought you…” I lower my voice. “...buriedhim.”
Sebastien cups the back of my neck, trailing his fingers along the side of it. “I did. But I know better than anyone that no secrets stay hidden in Harmony Heights. Bodies don’t stay buried. Dallas is the King today, but there are plenty of pricks just itching to knock the crown off his head. Leaving him to rot in the ground seemed good enough to me, but Adrian?—”
I should’ve known. Adrian Heller, I’ve learned, is the brains of the Order these days. “He thought it would be better to get rid of the body entirely?”
He nods. “Nicky Mathers runs the funeral home. He has connections everywhere in the biz, including a crematorium. For the right price, he’ll toss a body in the furnace, no questions asked. I asked for enough of Ward’s remains to have this made for you.”
My husband had a wedding ring made for me with the ashes of my former lover. “Um. Why?”
His lips curve into a ruthless smile. “It’s a reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Of what will happen to anyone who thinks they can come between me and my wife. Everytime you see it sparkle, just know that there isn’t anything you can do that will get me to stop loving you. Kill a guy? I’ll bury him. Run away? You fucking know I’ll be at your heels. Try to leave? Good luck, love, because I still have the tracker app on your phone. You picked me, Annaliese. Now you’re stuck with me. You could’ve had any man in the Order begging at your feet”—and to prove it, my husband lowers himself down to his knees, his palms a possessive brand on my hips as he tethers me to him—“but this is where I belong and I ain’t going anywhere.”
Sebastien Reynolds is the most fascinating man I’ve ever met. On the outside, he’s pretty and charming, the sort of guy you’ll fling your panties at if he so much as smiles your way. Not even the small imperfections to his beautiful face warn you what’s really under his skin. They should. A man who had his nose broken twice in the same year, leading to an adorable, crooked slant in the slope, or a man who just dodged getting his eye taken out in a knife fight, the inch-long scar over it a reminder of how reckless he can be… a man who hides his dark side with a wink and a dimple in his cheek… he’s beautifully broken, another casualty of the Order of the Owed, but he’smine.
I slip the ring on my finger, adding it to the ring he gave me during our wedding.
Letting the empty jewelry box fall to the asphalt of the parking lot, I cup Sebastien’s jaw. One firm tug and I get him to unfold his big body, rising up to his feet again before I go up on my tip-toes, demanding he kiss me.
He does. Clutching me to him, his fingers threading through my hair as he arches my back so that can kiss me deeper, I surrender to my husband’s hunger, enjoying every stroke of his tongue, every nibble on my bottom lip.
By the time he finally pulls away, I want to shove him into the driver’s seat and tell him to take me home. I’m sure the Claiming ceremony is over by now. Miranda will be going out with Colton to celebrate, and I won’t mind spending some quality time with my husband.
Sebastien takes my left hand, kissing my palm. I’m thinking he knows exactly whatI’m thinking when the lusty look on his pretty face switches to one of curious concern in a heartbeat.
“Dallas?” he calls out.
I glance over my shoulder. I know that Dallas Collins is one of Sebastien’s long-time friends. He’s still the King, the head of the Order, and I’m still a little wary when he’s around. Sebastien promises that Dallas is nothing like his father. I want to believe that. Years of brainwashing courtesy of Eric means that I’m trying, but it might take me a little longer to think of him as ‘Dallas’ and not the most powerful man in Harmony Heights.
Not Sebastien. He jokes with the King, goes out for drinks with him, invited him to our wedding, and makes comments that would have any other Owed being booted from the Order.
Now, though? As Dallas comes stalking away from the crowd, the King leaving the ceremony without any sort of entourage or hangers-on, even I can tell that something… something’s not right.
He had to attend. That’s part of the job, I guess. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, he presided over the ceremony. It must be over now if he’s heading for his nondescript black coupe, but the way his eyes look wild, his phone clutched tightly in his hand… I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a call and needed to run.
It’s possible. It’s also not my business, and I move closer to Sebastien, letting Dallas pass us by without a word.
I do.
My husband doesn’t.
Wrapping his arm around me as though he can’t resist having his hands on me at any given moment, he raises his voice. “Dal? Hey, Dallas? You okay?”
Dallas Collins stops short, head snapping our way.
I gulp.
Sebastien’s fingers dig into my side. “Bro? You good?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Liar. Because of his friendship with Sebastien, I’ve gotten to know Dallas a bit, and even I can tell he’s full of it. As though he can sense me looking at him, he spares me a quick glance. “Hey, Annaliese. Tell your sister congratulations from me. Bas? Look, I’ve gotta go. I…” He runs his fingers through his hair. A muscle jerks in his cheek. “Fuck. Where’s Adrian? I need to talk to Adrian.”
