Page 35 of Marry Lies
Agreeing to marry him is one thing.
But kissing him, or better yet, wanting him to kissme, is more trouble than I bargained for.
Taking a step away from him, I look down at my shoes until the door opens. I push all thoughts of Milesdefiling meout of my head as he grabs my hand and leads us to our living quarters.
CHAPTERSEVEN
THE RECEPTION
Miles
A few hours later, I’m adjusting my tie in front of my mirror when I hear someone knock softly on the door connecting my bedroom to the joint bathroom.
“Come in,” I grumble.
Estelle walks into my bedroom, and I swear my heart skips a fucking beat.
I need to get myself fucking together.
“That’s…is that what you’re wearing?” I ask, eyeing the way the short, white dress clings to her curves.
She’s also wearing white strappy heels that make her legs look a mile long, and as my eyes wander up, I notice a gold necklace with a large, goldRsmack dab between her glorious tits.
How in the world am I supposed to pretend I don’t find her attractive for an entire year? Because right now, with her wild curls grazing her bare shoulders, her smooth curves, and myfuckinginitial dangling between her perky breasts…she’s sex personified. It’s more than that, though. Her smile—the same one tilting her lips right this very instant—is contagious. Infectious. Everything about her is so…lovely.
When she’s not irritating the ever living shit out of me, that is.
“I figured I would lean into the whole virginal bride thing,” she says, stepping farther into my bedroom. “Even though people will think you just spent three hours defiling me. The irony is appealing to me.”
Fuck …
My…
Life.
I chuckle as I finish fixing my tie. “I’m surprised it’s not fuchsia or lime green,” I reply sarcastically.
“Well, I figured you only get fake married once, so…” she trails off and comes to stand next to me.
I swallow as I see her dark blue eyes scanning our reflection—studying how we fit as a couple. And, as an unbiased observer, I can see the appeal. Igetwhy people might consider us a good match. For one, Estelle is drop dead gorgeous. That was established the first time I laid eyes on her. But it’s not just her looks. It’s how she makes peoplefeel.She radiates sunshine, which poses a juxtaposition to me. A solid foot taller than her—nine inches when she’s in heels—I am no-nonsense. The lines of my suits are always crisp. My hair is always perfectly in place, and everything about me is exact.
Where she is soft, I’m firm.
Where she exudes light, I pull in the dark.
It’s like she’s Beauty, and I’m the Beast.
Thinking of the scar peeking out of my collar, I realize that analogy is not far off at all. Taken from her life to live in a strange castle with a beast…
“Ready?” I ask her, my eyes darting down to the goldR.
Fuck.Why does seeing the initial of my last name across her chest make me feel frenzied and desperate for her? Wasn’t this the deal? She’s changing her name officially. Legally, she will be Estelle Ravage in three to five business days. She signed the contract, and I filed it with our lawyersknowingit was going to happen.
But I wasn’t supposed to love it this fucking much, or even at all.
“Always,” she says, smirking at me before walking out of the bedroom.
We head downstairs together, where a small crowd of friends and family is waiting for us. As soon as we round the corner, they all break out into applause, and Chase—fuck him—shouts at us to kiss.
