by Linda Engman
Emily laughed and gave April a light hug, so as not to wrinkle or muss anything. “It’s time, sweetie.”
“Time?” she asked hesitantly.
“Come on, girl—it’s time to go out and get married. Oh, I almost forgot. Here…these are for you.” Emily pushed a simple but elegant bouquet of cream roses at her.
April accepted the beautiful classic arrangement with unsteady hands. “These are stunning. Your mother has excellent taste. The color matches my dress perfectly.”
Emily smiled with a conspirator’s grin. “Actually, Roman went out and got those himself this afternoon,” she told her. “He asked me what color your dress was.”
“Really?” she bumbled, not knowing how to respond. She was shocked to say the least. She took a deep, reaffirming breath. “All right…okay…I’m ready to become Mrs. Roman Vasquez, whether I want to or not.”
Emily laughed and took April by the arm, and together they walked along the hallway, down the winding stairway, through the entry foyer, and back past the main living area toward the open French doors leading out to the patio and pool.
Night had fallen, the silvery full moon was rising, and beyond the threshold the women could see a mass of people mingling and talking amongst themselves, some with flutes of bubbling champagne in hand, all outfitted in finery appropriate for a romantic New Year’s Eve wedding. Around the patio and pool area exotic flower arrangements mixed with red roses adorned every flat surface, along with hundreds of flickering candles that radiated a warm, illuminated glow and added a heady, sensual element to the scene. The voluptuous sounds of soft jazz floated through the air, filling the atmosphere with a score of pure romance. Holiday touches were also present in the orange trees, which had been strung with white lights. On the dining tables, silver and gold New Year’s Eve accents festooned the arrangements to give the matrimonial occasion a sophisticated festive flare. Besides looking dreadfully expensive, the setting was downright evocative, romantic, and definitely over-the-top sexy.
To cap it off, the band started to play Seal’s incredibly romantic “Kiss from a Rose,” signaling her entrance. April took it all in as she fought down another rise of sheer panic. She looked to Emily for support. “Well, I think it’s safe to say this will be the sexist wedding I’ll probably ever have—if that’s worth anything,” she commented, trying to cover her rattled nerves.
Emily chuckled at her friend’s dire humor. “Remember this is a wedding—not a prison sentencing,” she urged, at the same time giving April a gentle nudge through the doorway as everyone turned to look at the bride.
****
Roman fidgeted with his watch, pulled at his tie, and glanced at the French doors for what seemed like the millionth time. All two hundred and thirty-four guests his mother had invited at the “last minute” were standing and mingling amongst themselves while patiently awaiting his intended bride’s arrival. Since the wedding ceremony would be short and to the point, he had instructed the wedding planner that formal seating wasn’t necessary. He’d also promised his mother’s event organizer that if she kept the entire wedding mess down to three hours—tops—he would double her fee. If he was going to get married it would be fast, as painless as possible, and over in record time.
That was the game plan until a quiet hush fell over the waiting crowd and he turned to look at the woman walking toward him, her step hesitant and slow. His stomach twisted in knots at the sight of her as his heart pounded painfully in his chest. A stimulating shot of adrenaline rushed through his system. There was no doubt about it. She was simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Nothing compared to her. Not watching the sunrise atop of a snowy cliff; not even blue Hawaiian waves crashing on black sand beaches. Nor the sight of a tranquil mist as it floated past a green mountainside on a rainy morning…nothing compared to how she looked at this moment.
A feeling of helplessness overcame him, tangled with striking fear. It was the same feeling he experienced each time he set eyes on her. Unable to explain them, he’d pushed these feelings aside for the past six months. Now with her gliding toward him, he knew why he’d felt that way…he wanted her, needed her, and somehow desired to possess her completely. He wanted to have her for himself.
He couldn’t deny it anymore. From the first minute he laid eyes on her, he’d known she was for him. She’d walked into that conference room at the law firm and left him tongue tied and downright weak in the knees. From that minute on, nothing seemed to make sense to him anymore. His single life—and what he’d thought was so important before—seemed inconsequential after meeting her. He’d talked a good game these past six months and almost had himself convinced he could move on without her, that he didn’t need her or anyone to make him complete. He never had in the past, and like some jackass, he’d been stubbornly determined to prove himself right. But in reality, he was exactly where he’d secretly hoped to be with her—in a way, at least.
He gazed down at the woman now at his side and fought to breathe. For a split second he wanted everything to be real. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that she would be his, to have and to hold. But then he remembered the contract and the night at his apartment, and a flash of her telling him who her perfect man would be. He fell more than a little short of what she wanted in a husband. A cold chill ran down his spine as sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
She stood faithfully next to him, a soft smile on her mouth for him alone. Unprompted, she moved her gaze upward to connect with his, flashing him a knowing glance from those killer violet eyes. Tonight they gleamed deep amethyst in the candlelight, making him transfixed all the more. He also couldn’t ignore how beautiful and desirable she looked. She was stunning, alluring, and provocative in her wedding dress that hid none of her luscious attributes. The gown only announced and proclaimed them fully. Her breasts were abundant and perfectly rounded, filling out the silky material that skimmed daringly across and below the perfection of her form, the rest of her curves covered sinfully in more cream silk, hinting at and emphasizing her beautifully silhouetted body and firm derriere beneath the fabric. Her dark blonde hair, like burnished gold, was piled provocatively in a tousled knot, with wisps cascading around her satiny peach cheeks and elegant neck. He took a deep breath, awkwardly tried to clear his extremely dry throat, and quickly glanced at his best man and friend Rafael for support—only to find his buddy staring at his bride-to-be and her stunning cleavage.
He felt a wave of testosterone surge through him. Frustrated and slightly pissed, he ground his jaw and moved over one step to block his friend’s direct view. Jealously, protectiveness, and total domination ran unchecked through his already hot blood. He had to stomp down the urge to take off his suit coat and throw it over her to cover what should be for his eyes alone to feast on.
The judge instructed them to hold hands. Trying to get it together, he watched as she handed the bouquet of flowers he’d bought her, over to his sister and then turned back to him. She next slid her small, delicate hands along his upturned palms until he finally clasped hers within the confines of his own. The intimate contact made his breath catch while his heart practically stalled.
When he thought it couldn’t get any worse, she moved closer to him, giving him a free all-access view of her awesome rack: teasingly full, lush, and tempting beyond belief. His nose caught her tantalizing perfume and the sexy, feminine scent of her skin just as he had the other night in his apartment right before he practically mauled the woman. Restrained tonight, by the fact two hundred and thirty-four wedding guests were witnessing his every move, all he could do was grind his jaw and think of anything but the fact he seriously wanted to get naked with the woman right now.
She looked up and gave him the full, potent force of her violet gaze, and he was hopelessly lost once again…like he’d been from the first day they met.
Hell. I’m falling in love with my soon-to-be wife.
Chapter Ten
April tried to ignore her s
haking hands and how weak her knees felt as she stared up into Roman’s dark and ominous-looking face. Walking toward him, she’d witnessed his carved jaw clench, prompting her to wonder if he was having as hard a time as she was with the idea of getting married. Under the black designer suit, crisp white shirt, and silvery silk tie, she noticed his body was tense and strained. As was his handsome, sculptured face. Seriously strained, in fact.
I know I’m not his first pick as a bride—but really, does the man have to look so daunted at the prospect of marrying me?
She pushed away another rise of panic and quickly took in the setting to distract herself. The full moon gleamed and sparkled on the now lightly rippled ocean, as waves quietly lapped the darkened beach. The abundance of red roses and exotic flowers was intoxicating, overwhelming, and pure heaven to the senses. Floating candles reflected on the pool’s surface also adrift with scattered rose petals. All that combined with the twinkle lit orange trees and candlelight flickering throughout the area made the evening a wonderland of romance.
The judge promptly started the ceremony, saying a few brief words. April quickly refocused her attention on their vows.
“…..and do you, April Spring Sutton, take Roman Carlos Vasquez as your lawful husband?” the judge asked.
April looked up at Roman and noticed him raising an eyebrow in what could only be a direct comment to her middle name.
“…Yes, I do,” she stated softly, taking her time replying to let him wonder for a brief second if she was going to say yes. A little payback for his raised brow.
“Roman Carlos Vasquez, do you take April Spring Sutton as your lawful wife?” the judge asked again.
“Sí,” he replied, his deep voice serious and husky, as he made his temporary commitment to her.
Rings were brought forth, and he carefully slipped a gorgeous band of sparkling diamonds onto her ring finger; gently nudging it against her engagement ring as the multitude of guests released a collective hushed “oh” at the symbolic gesture.
April shivered with nervousness as he held both her hands. Before releasing her he raised them to his lips, bending his head to kiss both her palms, his hard, warm mouth sensually paying homage to her sensitive skin. She felt a quiver of heat at his intimate touch. She pulled her hands from his and swallowed hard, turning to receive his simple platinum band from Emily. He held out his left hand, and she hastily slid it onto his ring finger with as little contact as possible. The judge said a few more words, then simply proclaimed them husband and wife.
Following tradition, he slowly pulled her toward him while he angled his head, lowering his mouth onto hers. At first he only brushed his firm lips against her own, teasing her gently before capturing her mouth completely. She found herself giving in without a fight, willingly melting into him as she placed her hands on his strong, broad chest. Under her hands she felt his heavy heartbeat as he deepened the kiss into one that was passionate, amorous, and mind blowing. Their first fluke of a kiss had been fiery hot, the one in the foyer teasingly fun, and the kiss they shared on the beach this afternoon heart-stopping. But this kiss went way beyond any of those. There was something more demanding in this one. It felt serious—heartfelt, even. She didn’t know if it was the way he was holding her, or the ocean-side setting, or the romance of a moonlit wedding and the fact they were now married…but whatever it was, something was different.
He pulled back from her, his dark, powerful gaze focused directly with hers as time stood still again for the both of them. His expression now one of serious contemplation—as if he were unsure of his next move.
The crowd suddenly started to clap and shout best wishes in both English and Spanish, pushing forward to gather around, forcing the couple apart. Willing away the unexpected sense of loss from being temporarily separated, April instead put her game face on and smiled. First at her side was Lana Vasquez. April felt the sincere mothering love from Roman’s mother as Lana kissed her on both cheeks and hugged her tight as a welcome to the Vasquez family. Emily echoed her mother’s welcome while her husband Jake, tall, blond, and looking more like a surfer than a Wall Street broker, gently teased her about taking on Roman and his family.
One by one April greeted the rest of the guests, as Roman stood tall and impressive next to her, never once leaving her side. Occasionally he put his arm around her middle, hugging her to his side, while he conversed with one guest or another, introducing her to cousins, neighbors of his mothers, friends of the family, and his own close friends. She found herself impressed at the beautiful gowns the women wore, all of them looking pampered and stylish. The men looked equally dashing in their suits, with some even sporting tuxedos, since it was New Year’s Eve.
With formal introductions over, along with photos and the ceremonial cake cutting, April finally noticed Roman’s solemn mood lift somewhat as he joked with his buddies and his best man. All of whom were absolute hunks in their own right, in their thirties and successful. She watched as he accepted good-natured slaps on the back and the typical ribbing a man got when he gave up his long-held bachelorhood. Fascinated, she observed a Roman she’d never seen before as he smiled easily. For a moment, he almost looked as if he were a true groom.
She’d drifted from him and now was on the opposite side of the pool, talking politely with his two great aunts and several of his female cousins. Unable to help herself, she glanced time and again across the shimmering water with its floating candles and petals. Occasionally he turned in her direction. Each time, his smoldering glances made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything his elderly great aunts said.
“So how’s married life?”
Emily’s whispered question caught her off-guard. The great aunts wished her well and moved over to converse with some other guests. April turned and gave her friend a deep scowl. “You have a warped sense of humor.”
Emily laughed heartily. “Maybe. But at least you made the deadline.” She handed April a fancy-looking cocktail with an umbrella in it.
“What is it?” she asked, accepting the mystery drink with hesitation.
“Sex on the Beach,” Emily deadpanned.
April raised one brow in query. “Is it possible to divorce friends?”
Emily failed to stifle a wide grin at her own cleverness. “Fitting, don’t you think? I thought it went well with the whole romantic beachside theme. Besides, I promised you fancy drinks with umbrellas if you came to Miami—so drink up and let’s party, girl.”
She knit her brows together and whispered in a hushed tone. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met? I’m April Sutton—contract bride who was guilted and bamboozled into marrying your brother? Partying isn’t on my to-do list tonight.” Ignoring her friend’s badly timed humor, she took a swig of her fruity drink, barely refraining from guzzling the potent concoction.
“Actually, I think the name is now April Vasquez.”
She narrowed her eyes over the top of her tumbler. “Oh gee, thanks for the reminder.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
“I want my Christmas present back.”
“Guess what? We’re sisters-in-law now. How cool is that!”
April made a face and glanced about. She noted Roman was currently preoccupied with guests and wasn’t looking in her direction as she stealthy finished the rest of her drink. “Where do I get another one of these?”
Emily laughed and took the glass away from her. “Sorry, sweetie, but that was your one and only for the night. Especially since my brother is now headed this way with a very stupid-dreamy look on his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say—”
“—oh, please, spare me,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear what Emily would insinuate next. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Roman was headed her way with a fiery expression aimed directly at her. Feeling her core body temperature rise, she quickly looked away, annoyed he could play his part so well when she was finding it harder by the minute to keep up the charade.
A waiter passed, and she snatched a glass of champagne and took a long drink. The sparkling liquid soothed her tight throat and pent-up nerves. Within a minute Roman found her and hugged her to his hard body. He pulled her back against him and lowered his head to snuggle her neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin below her ear. “Enjoying the party, Mrs. Vasquez?” he murmured silkily, his voice intimate.
“As much as a contract bride can on her fake wedding night,” she countered, mystified as to how he could be so smooth and charming while fooling a multitude of friends and family.
He leaned down again and brushed his lips to her ear. “Have I told you lately how much I love your snarky sense of humor?”
Lucky for her the best man, Rafael Quintero, chose that moment to make a toast, so she was saved from kicking him in the shins. Somehow sensing her sulky mood, Roman released her, but still kept a loose arm around her waist. Together they listened as Rafael joked in a mix of Spanish and English about the groom and welcomed the bride to Roman’s circle of friends. She watched, fascinated at how incredibly good-looking Rafael Quintero was—and how much trouble he had speaking the English language. Roman had shared with her earlier that Rafael was originally from Spain and had moved to Puerto Rico as a teenager with his family, then to Florida a few months ago to start a new business; the suave Spanish businessman only recently learned English. She had to give him credit for trying, even though he struggled with it.
After the toasts were concluded, Lana made her own announcement that everyone should help themselves to the buffet set up on long flower-arrangement-topped tables off to one side of the patio. Artfully created hors d’oeuvres, lobster, filet mignon, and impressive ice bowls of caviar made up only a portion of the tempting selections, along with many spicy Puerto Rican-inspired dishes that April could only guess at. Lana also had waiters circling the guests, offering more glistening champagne as the band started to play.
