darkened. “How much more?”
“I think we need to tell each other our reading interests, where we’ve been on vacation, a bit or two about our jobs. I think I need to fix your cuff links. You need to let me straighten your tie. I think we should be talking baby names and colors for the nursery.”
He held her gaze. “That’s going to take us into some dangerous territory.”
She took a long breath and with all her strength, all her courage, she kept eye contact. “I’m a big girl. I’m also a smart girl. I sort of like knowing that this relationship will end.”
His eyes searched hers. “So you’ve said.”
“My dad was an alcoholic who made promises he never kept. He was his most charming when he wanted to manipulate me. If there’s one thing I can’t trust, it’s people being nice to me. How am I ever going to create a relationship that leads to marriage if niceness scares me?”
He laughed unexpectedly. “You’re saying you think a relationship with me will work because I’m not nice?”
“I’m saying this is my shot. Do you know I’ve never fantasized about getting married and having kids? I was always so afraid I’d end up like my mother that I wouldn’t even let myself pretend I’d get married. So I’ve never had anything but surface relationships.” She sucked in a breath. Held his gaze. “This baby we’re having will probably be my only child. This marriage? It might be fake to you, but it’s the only marriage I’ll ever have. I’d love to have two years of happiness, knowing that I don’t have to trust you completely, that you can’t hurt me because we have a deadline.”
“You really don’t trust me?”
“I’ll never trust anyone.”
He glanced around the table at her bridesmaids, who were chatting up his brother, his dad and her mom, who clearly weren’t paying any attention to them, and suddenly faced her again.
“No.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
T HE CATHEDRAL IN which Dom would marry Ginny was at least a thousand years old. It had been renovated six times and almost totally rebuilt once after a fire. The pews were cedar from Israel. The stained glass from a famous Italian artist. Two of the statues were said to have been created by Michelangelo, though no one could confirm it. And the art that hung in the vestibule? All of it was priceless.
But when Ginny stepped inside, her hand wrapped in her mom’s, every piece of art, every piece of wood, every famous, distinguished and renowned person seated in the sea of guests, disappeared from Dom’s vision.
She looked amazing.
She’d let her hair down. The yellow strands billowed around her beneath a puffy tulle veil. The top of her dress was a dignified lace with a high collar and snug lace sleeves that ran the whole way from her shoulders, down her arms, across the back of her hand to her knuckles. The skirt started at her waist, then flowed to the floor. Made of a soft, airy-looking material, it was scattered with the same shimmering flowers that were embroidered into the lace top, but these flowers stood alone, peeking out of the folds of the fabric and then hiding again as the skirt moved with every step Ginny took.
She’d managed to look both young and beautiful, while pleasing his father with a very dignified gown that took Dom’s breath away.
His brother leaned forward and whispered, “I know you weren’t happy about this marriage, so if you’d like to trade, you can have your princess back and I’ll raise your love child.”
Any other time, Dom would have said, “Shut up, you twit.” Today, mesmerized by the woman who had already seduced him once, and if he’d read her correctly the night of the formal dinner with her bridesmaids, wanted to seduce him again, he very quietly said, “Not on your life.”
Ginny and her mom reached the altar. Rose kissed his bride’s cheek and then walked to her seat. Ginny held out her hand to Dom and he took it, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Because
“I think we need to tell each other our reading interests, where we’ve been on vacation, a bit or two about our jobs. I think I need to fix your cuff links. You need to let me straighten your tie. I think we should be talking baby names and colors for the nursery.”
He held her gaze. “That’s going to take us into some dangerous territory.”
She took a long breath and with all her strength, all her courage, she kept eye contact. “I’m a big girl. I’m also a smart girl. I sort of like knowing that this relationship will end.”
His eyes searched hers. “So you’ve said.”
“My dad was an alcoholic who made promises he never kept. He was his most charming when he wanted to manipulate me. If there’s one thing I can’t trust, it’s people being nice to me. How am I ever going to create a relationship that leads to marriage if niceness scares me?”
He laughed unexpectedly. “You’re saying you think a relationship with me will work because I’m not nice?”
“I’m saying this is my shot. Do you know I’ve never fantasized about getting married and having kids? I was always so afraid I’d end up like my mother that I wouldn’t even let myself pretend I’d get married. So I’ve never had anything but surface relationships.” She sucked in a breath. Held his gaze. “This baby we’re having will probably be my only child. This marriage? It might be fake to you, but it’s the only marriage I’ll ever have. I’d love to have two years of happiness, knowing that I don’t have to trust you completely, that you can’t hurt me because we have a deadline.”
“You really don’t trust me?”
“I’ll never trust anyone.”
He glanced around the table at her bridesmaids, who were chatting up his brother, his dad and her mom, who clearly weren’t paying any attention to them, and suddenly faced her again.
“No.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
T HE CATHEDRAL IN which Dom would marry Ginny was at least a thousand years old. It had been renovated six times and almost totally rebuilt once after a fire. The pews were cedar from Israel. The stained glass from a famous Italian artist. Two of the statues were said to have been created by Michelangelo, though no one could confirm it. And the art that hung in the vestibule? All of it was priceless.
But when Ginny stepped inside, her hand wrapped in her mom’s, every piece of art, every piece of wood, every famous, distinguished and renowned person seated in the sea of guests, disappeared from Dom’s vision.
She looked amazing.
She’d let her hair down. The yellow strands billowed around her beneath a puffy tulle veil. The top of her dress was a dignified lace with a high collar and snug lace sleeves that ran the whole way from her shoulders, down her arms, across the back of her hand to her knuckles. The skirt started at her waist, then flowed to the floor. Made of a soft, airy-looking material, it was scattered with the same shimmering flowers that were embroidered into the lace top, but these flowers stood alone, peeking out of the folds of the fabric and then hiding again as the skirt moved with every step Ginny took.
She’d managed to look both young and beautiful, while pleasing his father with a very dignified gown that took Dom’s breath away.
His brother leaned forward and whispered, “I know you weren’t happy about this marriage, so if you’d like to trade, you can have your princess back and I’ll raise your love child.”
Any other time, Dom would have said, “Shut up, you twit.” Today, mesmerized by the woman who had already seduced him once, and if he’d read her correctly the night of the formal dinner with her bridesmaids, wanted to seduce him again, he very quietly said, “Not on your life.”
Ginny and her mom reached the altar. Rose kissed his bride’s cheek and then walked to her seat. Ginny held out her hand to Dom and he took it, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Because
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