Chapter 3

The Wedding Ceremony

As Burt opened the doors, the music started. I held my position, spine straight and bouquet clutched in a vise-lock so I’d have something to do with my trembling hands. My chin was parallel with the floor. I would present my soon-to-be husband with a strong-appearing bride who was worthy of such a high bid.

Five million dollars.

I still couldn’t believe it.

A white satin runner spanned the aisle on the ground before me. My bidder had his back to the entrance. I watched in what felt like slow motion as the officiant caught sight of me and gestured in my direction.

Christophe Toussaint slowly turned around, and my stomach filled with butterflies as I got my first look at the man I’d be married to for the next five years. My breath caught when our gazes met. His eyes were an earthy hazel color, reminding me of the first sprouts of green grass pushing through the ground during the early days of spring. He had espresso-colored hair that was swept to the sides and back away from a classically handsome face. The melodic sounds of the music rose and fell while nervous energy rolled through me.

On unsteady feet, I took my first steps toward a new future. One of my own making. Today was the first day of my new life. I would not enter into it with fear but with caution. I knew absolutely nothing of this man whom I’d spend the next five years married to. That fact alone would strike an insurmountable level of panic in anyone. And yet, I was determined to see this through. Do whatever it took to change both my life and Celine’s for the better. We’d already been chewed up and spit out by life’s trials and tribulations; this was our best chance at paving a new path to a brighter future.

Five million dollars was an enormous amount of money. After Angus took his forty percent commission, I would be left with three. The first year’s payment of six hundred thousand would be deposited into an account tonight. I’d have to discuss it with my husband tomorrow because I had no idea where that account was held, nor how to access it. Still, it was life-changing money, and I needed every penny.

With my resolve firmly in place, I put one foot in front of the other and walked with my head high, my gaze never drifting from the man who would become my husband. When I got closer to the riser, Christophe stepped off to meet me. As he held out his hand, pure adoration poured from him in waves, helping to soothe my anxiety and fear.

I placed my much smaller hand within his and lightning struck. A powerful sensation seared through my palm, up my arm, and practically electrocuted my heart. It was as though Cupid himself had struck me with his mighty arrow.

“ Alana .”

Christophe whispered my name like a prayer.

I shivered at his blatant admiration, a blush flushing my cheeks with heat. He made it very clear by the worshipful way he’d said my name and how his eyes never left mine that he liked what he saw in me. I suddenly wanted to be a different person. One who was worthy of such admiration. A woman he’d met a year ago in a little coffee shop and then courted until we’d finally taken that magical step. The way he looked at me, as if I hung the very moon, made it feel as though we’d known one another for eons.

He helped me keep my balance as I stepped onto the riser by his side. Christophe kept hold of my hand, not letting go for even a moment as the officiant started the ceremony.

I couldn’t pay attention to anything the officiant said, too focused on Christophe. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more attractive man in my almost nineteen years. He was older than me, to be sure, but not by a lot. If I’d had to guess, I’d have put him in his mid-to-late twenties. Then again, who was that young and had an expendable five million dollars to throw at a woman he’d never even met? What was in this for him?

I kept sneaking glances, categorizing his features. He was tall, over six feet, but everyone seemed tall compared to my small stature. I barely came up to his shoulders, and my heels added a couple inches to my height. He wore a crisp, light-grey suit with a matching vest beneath. A white dress shirt was paired with a slate-blue tie with a sheen to it that caught the light.

Suddenly, he shifted his large frame, tugging my hand so I’d follow until we were facing one another.

“Do you, Christophe Toussaint, vow to love, honor, and cherish Alana all the days of your life?” the officiant asked.

Christophe stared directly into my eyes; a full breath passed as he communicated something with his gaze I didn’t know how to decipher.

“I do,” he answered with conviction.

“Do you, Alana Kim, vow to love, honor, and cherish Christophe all the days of your life?” The question was directed at me.

All the days of my life? That was not part of the deal, and I was leery to agree in the event that it somehow locked me into a new term or contract I hadn’t been prepared for.

“I-I, um…”

Christophe tilted his head, his expression becoming soft. “It’s okay. I know the terms of five years are clear in the contract,” he noted, easing my concern.

I licked my lips, and his nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath.

“I do,” I said.

“Now for the rings…”

Christophe reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out four rings. Three of them were gold with a line of sparkly diamonds across the front. The last was a white-gold band with the same line of diamonds across the top, though the size of that one was much larger.

He gave the officiant the one I believed was for him while Christophe took my hand. He spoke the next words with conviction.

“Alana Kim, this ring represents your past. Whatever came before matters not on this day.” He slid the first band across my left ring finger. He held the second just past the first knuckle when he spoke again. “This ring represents the present. The gift of your presence in my life right now in this moment.”

I swallowed against the emotion unexpectedly coating my throat. It was impossible to not get swept away with his lovely promises. Tears filled my eyes as his beautiful words touched me in a place none had before.

“And the last ring represents our future. May we have as many days together as we desire. My heart belongs to you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath at hearing those words.

My heart belongs to you.

He bent, turned my hand over, and kissed the center of my palm warmly, sending chills skittering down my spine pleasantly.

I stood there, stunned. Uncertain how to proceed. This man had just offered me his heart when I was only marrying him for his money.

Shame, thick and tepid, oozed through my mind. Did he not understand that we were marrying for convenience and companionship, not love? Surely Angus had gone over the contract in great detail as he had with each candidate. I’d agreed to being purchased as a doting wife for five million dollars and five years of my time. Love was not for sale, nor did I think I was capable of romantic love after what I’d been through. Celine was the only person who had that from me, and my feelings for her were that of a sister. Even my own mother had destroyed the love I’d felt for her when she abandoned me.

“The ring, Alana?” The officiant broke me from my reverie.

I reached for the platinum circle on autopilot and held it aloft.

“Say what you wish, mon coeur ,” Christophe encouraged.

My heart.

I closed my eyes, desperate to push aside all the ugly thoughts that were at war with the kindness he was giving so easily. It was unnerving. No one had ever been genuinely kind to me, aside from Celine, in years.

“Christophe…” I spoke so low I could hardly hear myself. What did you say to a man who was about to change your entire life for the better? He had no idea the horrors he was saving me from. The brutal, meager existence I’d been living up to this point. But could I trust what I was seeing at face value? A lot of people were excellent at pretending. He very well could have been a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Regardless of my concerns, I decided that since I’d never have a moment such as this again, because I didn’t plan on marrying after Christophe, I’d be honest. Give a bit of myself to this man who’d offered me not only financial security, but his very heart.

I didn’t know what to do with one’s heart, but I did know what I could reciprocate that might express a fragment of my appreciation.

He extended his left hand. I held it, hovering the ring over his finger.

“Christophe, with this ring, I promise to be a loyal, faithful, and supportive wife. I devote the next five years of my life to making you as happy as possible and standing by your side in all things.” I slid the ring on and stared at the diamonds twinkling back at me.

When I looked from the ring to his face, I was surprised to see he was smiling joyously.

For a moment, I once again imagined we were different people and that this was the best day of our lives. Happiness stretched between us. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself enjoy it.

“By the powers vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride, Mr. Toussaint.”

Christophe cupped my cheeks and brought his face closer to mine. I could feel his warm breath coast across my lips. “May I kiss you, Alana?” he asked.

I was shocked by his request. Technically, he’d paid handsomely for the right to do whatever he wanted to me as long as it didn’t endanger my life. Part of the contract detailed that our bodies were to be available to our husbands at their whim.

“You don’t need to ask for my permission,” I murmured, reminding him of something he already knew.

“And yet I’m asking for it all the same.” His gaze traced my features like an artist would a painting. “You are the most magnificent creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. To know that I get to look upon your beauty for years to come is an unbelievable gift I never want to take advantage of.”

My heart clenched and I felt a girlish flush creep up my neck to enflame my face. “You may kiss me,” I answered.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment his lips touched mine. When they did, I wasn’t ready for the flourish of sensation that spread warmly through my entire body. I’d never been kissed before. Men who’d purchased the right to take pleasure didn’t give pleasure in return. This…this was soft, gentle, almost ticklish as his lips brushed back and forth.

Christophe pressed his mouth more firmly to mine, one of his hands sliding from my cheek to the back of my neck. His hold as delicate as a satin ribbon across my skin. I lifted my hand to his chest for balance and gloried when he made a pleasurable groaning sound. One that was so deep I felt the rumble move against my palm. I sighed and opened my mouth just a touch, which he took as an opportunity to flick his tongue inside , teasing my own.

A sizzle of electricity bolted through my form sending my heart skittering and my legs clenching together at the sudden arousal pooling between them. I gasped at the unexpected contact and broke our connection, my eyes going wide as I put my hand over my mouth in shock. I’d seen kisses where tongues had touched on television and between couples on the streets of New York. But I was wholly unprepared to receive one or the fiery burst of desire that came with it.

“ Magnifique ,” Christophe whispered, awe clear in his tone as he studied my face.

I could no longer look him in the eye, feeling my inexperience and embarrassment down to the tips of my toes. The feet I now stared down at, while hoping I didn’t upset him by pulling away.

Christophe used a curled finger to tilt up my chin until I looked him in the eyes. “Was that your first kiss, cheri ?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to form words after such a special and utterly unique experience.

He inhaled fully, his large chest lifting with the movement as he seemed to grow in height right before my eyes.

“This pleases me,” he purred.

My cheeks went molten once again. Would I ever be able to look at my own husband without blushing like a child? I didn’t think so. His very presence was so all-encompassing, I didn’t know how to react. He was very manly, yet gentle too. Almost elegant in his mannerisms. At least in what I’d seen so far.

He tapped my chin, dipped forward, and laid another peck to my lips, finishing with a weighted sigh. “Come, my Alana. Let us go and get to know each other.”

Get to know one another? Was that code for consummating the marriage? Angus had told us to expect our husbands to want to have sex and “seal the deal,” as he referred to it, right after the ceremony.

“Are we…going to your bedroom?” I asked boldly.

He frowned, took my hand, brought it up to his lips, and kissed my palm. Something he’d done during the ceremony that I’d found endearing and had enjoyed very much.

“No, mon coeur . There is plenty of time to connect physically. I would like to get to know my wife personally.” He offered me the crook of his bent arm the way a gentleman did.

“And how do you propose to do that?” I asked, a hint of uncertainty laced my words.

“By taking you to dinner, of course. I’m famished. You?”

“Um, that would be nice. Thank you. Or should I say, merci ?”

He put his hand over mine where I held onto his arm and stopped abruptly at the exit to the room. “Parlez-vous francais?” Do you speak French?

“ Un peu .” A little , I answered.

Christophe beamed at my response. “I am doubly pleased. A once-in-a-lifetime beauty who speaks French walked right into my life today. And I had the honor of making her my wife. I am a lucky man.”

He led us down the long hallway and to a bank of elevators. His words pinged around within the confines of my mind. He thought he was a lucky man to have made me his. Perhaps in this scenario, I was the lucky one.

Only time would tell.