when her one attempt at elopement had ended so badly.
But she’d vaguely thought, if she ever did get married, she’d have a simple wedding dress, a cake, a bouquet. And her father would give her away.
This wedding had none of that.
Two days after Darius’s proposal, they got married in what felt like the worst wedding ever.
Her own fault, Letty thought numbly, as she stood in front of a judge, mumbling vows to honor and cherish. She had no one to blame but herself.
Well, and Darius.
After her phone call with her father, Letty had been too heartsick to care about planning a wedding ceremony. Even Darius ruthlessly taking possession of her body on the kitchen counter hadn’t cheered her up. Her heart felt empty and sad.
Darius had tried to tempt her with outrageous ideas for a destination wedding. “If you don’t want a big society wedding, there’s no reason to wait. The sky’s the limit! Do you want a beach wedding in Hawaii? A winter wedding in South America? If you want, I’ll rent out the Sydney Opera House. Just say the word!”
She’d looked at him miserably. “What I want is for my father to be there. Without love, what difference does the wedding make?”
The temperature in the room had dropped thirty degrees. “Fine,” he said coldly. “If that’s how you feel, we might as well just get married at City Hall.”
“Fine,” she’d said in the same tone.
So they’d gone to the Office of the City Clerk near Chinatown this afternoon, where they’d now been killing time for three hours, surrounded by happy couples all waiting for their turn.
Letty felt exhausted to the bone. She hadn’t slept at all the night before. Neither she nor Darius had even bothered to dress up for the ceremony. She wore a simple blouse and maternity pants. Darius wore a dark shirt, dark jeans and a dark glower.
Nor had it helped that the two friends they’d brought to be their witnesses had hated each other on sight. The constant childish bickering between Belle Langtry and Santiago Velazquez, who’d introduced himself as Ángel, had been the final nail in the coffin of Worst Wedding Ever.
It could have been so different, Letty thought sadly. If her father had been there, if she and Darius had been in love, nothing else would have mattered.
But there was no love anywhere on this wedding day.
As she and Darius had sat waiting, listening to their best man and maid of honor squabble, she couldn’t stop tears from falling. Darius’s glower only made them fall faster.
Their number was the very last to be called in the late afternoon. The four of them had gone up to the desk. As the officiant swiftly and matter-of-factly spoke the words that would bind her to Darius forever, Letty couldn’t stop thinking about how she was betraying her father. The man who’d taught her to roller-skate down Fairholme’s long marble hallways, who’d taught her chess on rainy days. The man who’d told her again and again how much he loved her.
“I screwed everything up,” Howard had told her sadly when he got out of prison. “But I swear I’ll make it up to you, Letty. I’ll get you back the life you lost...”
He’d never once criticized her for getting pregnant out of wedlock. He’d just been delighted about a future grandchild. Even when she’d phoned him before the wedding, and told him she was marrying Darius, she’d felt his joy. Though it had been abruptly cut off when she’d tearfully told him the rest of the deal.
Then he’d said quietly, “Do it, sweetheart. Marry him. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Knowing you’re happy, I’ll be at peace.”
Now, as she watched Darius speak his marriage vows, Letty’s heart twisted. She blinked as she heard the officiant solemnly finish, “...I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The whole ceremony had taken three minutes.
She dimly heard Belle clapping and hooting wildly as Darius leaned forward to kiss her. Some instinct made her turn away and offer him only her cheek.
His glower turned radioactive.
After signing the marriage certificate, their small party of four trundled out of the City Clerk’s Office to discover the cold gray September skies pouring rain.
“Such a beautiful ceremony. I’m so happy for you,” Belle sighed, obviously caught up in some romantic image that had nothing to do with reality. “You make a perfect couple.”
“You’re living in a fairy tale,” Santiago Velazquez muttered. “They can obviously barely stand each other.”
Belle whirled on him irritably. “Just once, could you keep your bad attitude to yourself?” Her voice was shrill. “I’m sick of hearing it!”
He shrugged, glancing at Darius. “You got married because she’s pregnant, right?”
“Velazquez, don’t make me punch you on my wedding day.”
“See?” Belle crowed. “Even Darius can’t stand you.”
The Spaniard looked superior. “Just because I’m the only one who is willing to speak the truth...”
“The truth is that marriage is about love and commitment and a whole bunch of sophisticated emotions you obviously can’t handle. So keep your opinions to yourself. You might think you’re being all deep, but talking like that at a wedding is just plain tacky!”
The Spaniard’s eyes narrowed and for a moment Letty was afraid that the constant bickering between them was about to boil over into something truly unpleasant. But to her relief, the man abruptly gave a stiff nod.
“You are right.”
Belle stared at him wide-eyed, then tossed her hair, huffing with a flare of her nostrils. “Course I’m right. I’m always right.”
Letty exhaled as they seemed to drop the matter.
“Except for when you’re wrong,” came his sardonic response, “which is every other time but now, since you’re obviously living in some ridiculous romantic dream world.”
Belle glared at him, then whirled on Letty with a beaming smile. “Are you having a good wedding day, sweetie? Because that’s what I care about. Because I’m not rude like some people. We learn manners in Texas.”
“I have a ranch in Texas,” the Spaniard rejoined. “And I learned an expression that I believe applies to you, Miss Langtry.”
“The meek shall inherit the earth?”
He gave her a sensual half smile. “All hat, no cattle.”
Belle gave an outraged intake of breath. Then she said sweetly, “That’s a lot of big talk for a man with a girl’s name.”
He looked irritated. “You’re saying it wrong. An-hel. And it is a man’s name. In every Spanish-speaking country...”
“Aaain-jel, Aaain-jel!” she taunted, using the pronunciation that involved harps and wings. She blinked. “Oh, look, the limo’s here.”
Letty almost cried in relief.
“Finally,” Darius muttered. The limo had barely slowed down at the curb before he opened the back door for his bride. Letty jumped in, eager to escape.
“Where are we going?” Belle said, starting to follow, the Spaniard coming up behind her. Darius blocked them from the limo.
“Thank you so much. Both of you. But I’m afraid Letty and I must leave immediately for Greece.”
Belle frowned. “I thought you weren’t leaving until tomorrow. We were going to take you out for dinner...”
“Unfortunately, we must get on the plane immediately. My family is waiting to meet my new bride.”
“Oh,”