Page 68 of Vengeful Vows

I expel a hard breath. “You can’t see me before the wedding. It’s bad luck.” As if I need any more of that.

“I’ll take my chances.” He cups my shoulders.

Even though I try to escape, he won’t let me go.

He leans toward me, and I inhale the spicy, determined scent of him. “Only a few more hours until I make you mine in the biblical sense,” he muses.

“I’m dreading that.”

Not at all put off by my words, he smiles and brushes his thumb pad over the pulse in my neck. “You’re a pretty little liar, Bella.”

I gasp at his audacity.

“You’re as affected by me as I am by you.”

My physical reaction to Nico in the Sterling Uptown’s lobby was precisely why I’d remained at the hotel instead of moving back to his penthouse.

As much as I hate that he’s right, my body betrays me when it comes to him.

Thankfully Amelia hurries through the entrance with a lot of drama, and Nico releases me.

After scooping me into a quick hug, she indicates the entourage who is right behind her. “We need to get busy.”

She’s brought along a makeup artist who I hope will be able to work miracles, a hairstylist for my updo, and an assistant—loaded down with bags—who I remember from the fashion show.

Without acknowledging Nico at all, she takes the gown from the uncomfortable-looking Antonio, then hurries me toward the bridal room that we’d looked at last night during the rehearsal.

As she shuts the door, I can’t resist a quick peek at my future groom.

He’s remained in place, watching me go.

When we’re sealed inside the small dressing room, I exhale. Then I see Amelia is unpacking croissant sandwiches, sweets, and the fixings for mimosas.

She makes me one that is really light on OJ. The second is even better.

By the time I’m in my wedding dress with my hair done, the makeup expert having worked a small miracle, I’m more relaxed than I thought I’d ever be.

Hundreds of photos have been taken, and time has marched inexorably toward the moment when Nico will stake his claim on me.

The church has a woman responsible for seeing to it that things are running on schedule, and she knocks on the door to let us know it’s time.

In the distance, music is playing, a song Nico and I chose together during happier days.

At one point, I remember thinking that I was living a dream and that I hoped no one pinched me to wake me up.

Now I pray that I will open my eyes to find everything has been a nightmare.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Amelia asks, as she has done several times since yesterday.

She’s holding my bridal bouquet, but she hasn’t extended it toward me.

“Want to?”I shake my head. “No. Never.”

Because she’s been there from the beginning, she knows the whole sordid story and that I can’t escape Nico’s carefully constructed trap.

“I’ve got a car,” she says. “I can have you at the airport in under an hour.”

And then the house of cards would fall around my brother and his betrothed.