took Elana’s hand, forced himself to look into her eyes.
“It’s because I don’t deserve her that I just couldn’t let his moment pass without giving her the chance to object. But now I realize I don’t want her to. She’s here, standing by my side, ready to allow me this opportunity to promise to be the best husband I can be.” He lifted her hand, brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. A small exhalation popped from between her lips. “And I will be, Elana. I promise you that if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy. Deal?”
The alarm slowly drained from her eyes. In fact, every emotion drained out of her eyes for a startling minute.
Then she was smiling that flawless Marshall smile, her gaze sweeping away from his before it returned. Resolute. “Deal.”
The scent of scandalous drama denied lingered in the courtyard for a taut, silent few seconds. Then someone in the crowd clapped. Several hands joined in the applause. A bunch of awws followed.
And just like that, his life was once again on the straight and narrow.
Thom suppressed the buzzing in his head long enough to follow the instruction of the minister, long enough to utter the words that condemned his whole existence as a lie. And before he knew it, the cold band of gold had sealed him in his eternal prison.
* * *
Gabe returned to his seat, ignoring the speculative stares that followed him. Mariella glanced at him with a mixture of relief and curiosity. He threw out a hell-if-I-know shrug, unfastened the single button that held his bespoke tuxedo jacket and sat down. He knew he’d gotten away with not being grilled because his aunt was relieved and overjoyed that another small hiccup had been overcome.
He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe Thom had nearly thrown a monkey wrench in the works. The cold sweat that had broken over him when he realized what Thom was up to still lingered. For a single moment, he toyed with teaching the bastard a lesson anyway, just to ensure he didn’t get any other bright ideas down the line.
But no. The message he’d sent had hit home. He’d seen it in Thom’s eyes. Still, he intended to keep a close eye on him.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Thom, you may kiss your bride.”
He watched the newly married couple turn to stare at each other, each hiding their hundred and one secrets. Thom’s gaze flicked over to him for a millisecond. Gabe, very much aware of the photographer recording every second of the proceedings, made sure his face was devoid of all emotion except brotherly, congratulatory acceptance.
Thom’s gaze returned to his bride. He took Elana in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.
The crowd went wild.
“Gracias a Dios,” Mariella murmured fervently under her breath.
Gabe rose with the rest of the guests as the recessional began to play. The smiling couple stepped down from the altar and started down the aisle, laughing with joy as white rose petals and expensive silver glitter were thrown their way. His cousin blushed. Thom laughed and leaned down to his mother as she stepped up to him, whispered something in his ear before she kissed his forehead.
Sharply dressed ushers started directing guests down the aisle.
Taking his aunt’s arm, Gabe smiled wide and breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Another fucking crisis averted.
For now.
* * *
Luc watched the newly married couple waltz gracefully to “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran. The spotlight in the impeccably decorated grand ballroom hit the bride and groom just right, highlighting his sister’s exquisitely designed gown and the impressive figure the groom cut in his tuxedo as they executed their first dance as husband and wife.
Thom said something to Elana that made her laugh before she leaned in to whisper in his ear. Whatever she said drew a wide grin from him. He twirled her away from him and caught her back with the suave elegance and confidence of a born sophisticate. From every angle, they cut a dashing, eye-catching figure, the very epitome of envy-inducing wealth, youth and power.
Luc caught a few wistful sighs and more than a few green-eyed looks directed at his sister and his newly minted brother-in-law. Wisps of conversation swirled around him. A couple of grandma types commented on how lovely the flowers were. How gorgeous the new couple looked. How soon they would be having children.
Really?
For fuck’s sake. They’d only been married five seconds. Of course, it didn’t take long before the good old-fashioned celeb bitchy comments about everything from the décor to the quality of the caviar, filtered through. He walked away as one guest started a knock knock joke about Elana’s dress. It was that or ruin his sister’s wedding by punching a guest in the face.
He had to admit he wasn’t surprised though that speculation was so rife. There’d been a hot minute during the ceremony when he’d thought Thom was about to hightail it out of there.
He grimaced.
Clearly, his brother-in-law had fast developed the flair for the dramatic that some members of his family were fond of. That was the sort of shit Luc wouldn’t have put past Rafe. Or even Elana herself considering the locking-herself-in-the-bathroom stunt she’d pulled earlier. He hadn’t expected it from Thom, though. Hell, for a moment he’d thought the guy had been ready to bail—
“Dance with me, baby.”
He abandoned his thoughts and glanced down. Rachel was smiling up at him, her eyes bright with a new kind of light that scared the shit out of him. His proposal had fueled a zeal in her that he knew most newly engaged women fell prey to, but his sister’s wedding seemed to have added an extra layer of determination. One he wasn’t altogether comfortable around. He let Rachel tug him onto the dance floor. A beam of light fell on her. Luc had to admit she looked gorgeous. Every inch the kind of woman a man like him married. Had he already told her she looked gorgeous? He couldn’t remember. Wonder of wonders, his mind had been somewhere else. On someone else, the way it stubbornly strayed these days.
Dammit. Why couldn’t he—
“Wasn’t the ceremony wonderful?” Rachel gushed.
He looked down at the woman in his arms. The woman he’d asked to marry him. He needed to stop thinking about the other woman, concentrate on this one.
“Uh-huh.”
She smiled. “Their vows were divine. I thought they’d go another way, make it really personal, but I guess Thom’s little speech was great, too. Do you think we should do that? Have personalized speeches?”
Luc shrugged. “Sure, why not?” he muttered.
“Hmm, I don’t know if I want to go down that route. My family are sticklers for tradition. They’ll probably want the ancient verse, right down to the honor-and-obey bit,” she said with a cute wrinkle of her nose.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he said, only half listening.
She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. “I’ll do it if you want, but the only place I intend to obey is in the bedroom. I’ll let you be my master there any time you want, Luc.”
Another brush of her body against his refocused his wayward thoughts. He wasn’t made of wood, after all. He settled his hands on her narrow waist and swayed with her, even managed a smile. He needed to pay her more attention. More compliments. Rachel loved that. He needed to remember that his girlfriend—no, fiancée—got sulky when she thought she had competition. She especially didn’t do well around other women more entitled to the limelight than she was. Like a bride. Or a certain housekeeper.
He opened his mouth to do just that.
And swallowed a curse when Vanessa and her date glided by. Where the hell did she even find him? And