Chapter 5

Five

Nikita is silent on the entire drive over to the reception venue. I wanted a small get-together somewhere private, but Haruaki refused. He demanded the most public reception he could think of.

Naturally, that means he gave us the event venue at his casino hotel, The Currency. Not only that, but he made sure all the paparazzi were there. I'm not even well known in the city, but Haruaki and Callum are. Haruaki used his pull to get them here. He wants our faces plastered on every news outlet from here to Russia.

If I don't like the attention, then Nikita must hate it too. She's been stiff since I caught her touching her lips. Almost as if she could still feel my kiss.

It took everything in me not to deepen that kiss. Especially as I felt that ice melt a little, wanting to let me in. It was addicting. It only made me want to see what other ways I could make her melt.

I can't focus on that now, though. As we prepare to get out, I turn to Nikita.

"Stay close to my side. Don't say anything to them." I indicate the photographers being held back by security at the hotel.

She nods once. I exit the car and go to shut the door, but Nikita has slid across the seat, slipping out behind me.

I expected her to demand to be treated like a princess. For her to wait for me to come open the door. It's a surprise, but then again, I did just tell her to stay close.

Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I turn her body into me to shield her from the flashes. She lets me easily.

Thankfully, no one is actually pressing to get to us, but they are taking plenty of photos. I'm sure Haruaki has already told them exactly what to say. I imagine the headlines will be something that will taunt her father.

Once I get her inside the doors, a guard leads us to a back elevator. It doesn't take long to get to the top floor. I have been in the space a time or two, so I know it is a mixture of an outdoor patio area and an indoor ballroom. Nikita didn't bring a coat, though. So when the photographer asks us to go outside, I glower at her.

"Sir? Is there an issue?" she asks hesitantly.

"It's the middle of winter, and you want my wife out in the cold without a jacket," I growl.

I can feel Nikita's eyes on me, but I don't look down at her.

"We have the heaters on for her," she tells me.

I go to say something else, but Nikita touches my shoulder.

"It's okay."

I grit my teeth but nod at her. The photographer smiles before leading us outside.

Yeah, these heaters are bullshit. On top of the building, it's windy and cold even with the heaters full blast.

Slipping off my jacket, I resist the urge to shiver as I wrap it over Nikita's shoulders. She looks up at me, a hint of surprise on her face. It shocks me that I can see an emotion on her face, but it's gone in the blink of an eye.

"Thank you," she mumbles.

"Let's make this quick. It is much too cold for my wife to be out here," I call to the photographer.

She starts barking directions of different positions for us to stand in. Different ways my hands are to touch Nikita's body. It's all awkward as fuck, and I think the photographer can tell. She's getting frustrated.

"Act natural. Kiss her like you can't imagine life without her," she huffs.

"Are you okay with this?" I whisper to Nikita as she is in my arms, facing me.

My jacket still hangs off her, my hand underneath the fabric on her lower back.

She nods once, determined.

So I lean down slowly and I kiss her. It's a little more than the peck from the church, but I don't deepen the kiss like I would if I was really in love with her. I only hold it long enough for the photographer to get her shot, then I pull back.

"We are done. My wife and I are joining our party now," I inform the photographer.

Over the last ten minutes, we've watched as people filled the room before us. Before we can get to the door, the photographer stops us.

"They want to announce you. Let me let them know."

I growl, but then I feel a warm hand slide into mine. I look down at Nikita.

I give her a small smile. She's as much of a prisoner in this as I am.

Then the doors open, and it all becomes real.

"Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Declan O'Brien!"

With his handon my lower back, Declan ushers me toward a table with signs on the front that say Mr. and Mrs. Halfway across the dance floor, I hear tapping on glass and look around. Almost instantly, I see Haruaki smirking and standing off to the side, tapping a knife against his champagne glass.

Declan sighs as he grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop. I turn toward him, and before I know what's happening, he's cupping my face, kissing me gently before pulling away. As the crowd cheers, he pulls me forward once again.

I'm in a daze as he continues to walk, dragging me along with him. My third kiss now, and still the tingling is there. Not only that, but I have this weird feeling in my stomach. Almost as if I want to throw up, but not in a bad way. I've never felt this before.

Why did he kiss me just now?

We make it to the table, and he pulls out my chair.

"Thank you," I murmur as I sit.

"You're welcome."

A server comes over and fills our glasses as people start sitting down. Declan and I don't say anything to each other as we look around the room. I only know the people here who were at that horrible Christmas dinner and Declan's best friend, Tristano. Otherwise, I couldn't tell you who anyone is. It's not how I pictured my wedding day, but it is what it is.

Again, tapping happens.

"Motherfucker," Declan mutters before turning toward me.

I look over at him and frown.

He leans down and kisses me again. His lips are so soft it honestly catches me off guard. I've seen kisses on the television before, and they always looked so messy. Not with Declan. I don't know what to think about how gentle he's been. Honestly, I didn't know he had it in him to be soft.

"I don't understand. Why do they keep tapping their glasses, and why do you keep kissing me?" I ask when he pulls away.

Declan stays quiet as a server walks up and sets plates down in front of us. I look down at the food. It looks decent enough.

"There is a wedding tradition here where after you're married, your guests tap the glasses, and the new couple has to kiss until they stop tapping."

"That's…"

"A pain in the ass. I know. I'm sorry that I keep kissing you without your permission," he says before I can finish putting together my thoughts.

"I don't mind." I shrug as I pick up my silverware.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Declan frowning in my direction. "You don't mind?"

"Is it uncomfortable? Yes, but we're married. It's to be expected," I tell him before I take a bite.

Declan grunts, and we fall silent again as we eat. It's awkward at best. The day starts to hit me all at once, and my mind starts racing.

I knew this day would happen eventually, but I didn't know it would be quite like this. That the man forcing me down the aisle toward another would be a virtual stranger and not my father. At the very least, I expected to have one person on my side, but I didn't.

Declan is on your side. He's doing this for you,a little voice in my head reminds me.

While that's true, I don't think Declan is really doing it for me. He's doing it out of obligation. He's got a savior complex, and I'm the damsel in distress in this situation.

The tinking of glasses happens again, and I sigh as I set down my fork. Declan leans over and grabs me by the back of my neck. His lips hit mine, and I let him kiss me. Only this time, the tinking doesn't stop.

Declan barely pulls away and growls against my mouth, "Goddammit, kiss me back so they fucking stop."

I barely open my mouth to snap back, but before I can, Declan makes his move and deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine. It's oddly…nice. I've never found the appeal of making out with a person, but I think Declan could make me change my mind if I let him in.

Only I won't. This marriage is all for show and isn't real. I'll do what I need to do to keep him happy, but I won't delude myself. I won't ever have a happy marriage. He can never love me. Nor will I love him.

Someone wolf whistles, making everyone laugh as they stop hitting their glasses.

"Thank fuck," he says under his breath when he pulls away.

I frown. Here I am thinking about how he is making me feel with his lips and tongue, yet he is grateful for it to be over. I force a small smile as I turn back to my plate, but that small stab of pain remains in my chest. It's so stupid, but it hurts to know that he doesn't enjoy kissing me. Not the way I do him. Hell, even the stubble on his face against mine gives me goose bumps. I shouldn't like it, but I do, and for some odd reason I want him to like kissing me too.

I finish my meal in silence, hating the way I almost hope for the clinking sound again. Only it doesn't come.

A DJ comes over the speakers as soon as our plates are cleared to announce that it's time for us to cut the cake. Wordlessly, we stand at the same time. Declan takes my hand and pulls me across the room to where the cake is displayed.

"I'm going to take some photos of you guys while you cut the cake," a photographer tells us.

"Sounds good." Declan smiles at her.

"Yes, thank you." I nod.

We step behind and off to the side of the cake. Declan pulls me into his side, and I keep my hands down by my hips. While he touches me freely, I'm not comfortable doing the same to him.

"Nikita," Declan hisses.

I look up at him. "Yes?"

He smiles, but I can see the tension around his eyes. "Touch me like you like me. The sooner we get this charade over, the sooner we can leave."

"Sorry," I murmur.

Slowly, I place my hand on his chest and smile sweetly up at him.

I wonder briefly if I would be able to grab the cake knife quick enough to stab him. The way he is making me feel is annoying. I don't want to be hurt that he doesn't want me. I don't want him to want me. Yet I still feel the need to cause him a fraction of the pain I am currently feeling.

Ignoring the photographer, I slide my hand up behind his neck, making his eyes widen in surprise.

Then I dig my nails in, making him hiss.

"Careful, wildcat. Pain might deter others, but it only encourages me. Do your worst."

My hands immediately loosen as my eyes widen. Is he saying he enjoys the pain?

He only smirks at me, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"All right, I got the photos. Now you two can cut the cake together, then feed each other a small piece."

Declan picks up the knife, and I place my hand over his. That thought hits me again, but knowing he might like it banishes the thought.

Instead, together we cut the cake. He presses in behind me, his body flush with mine. I don't miss the erection he presses against me. It makes me gasp.

When he pulls away, I take a deep breath.

"Whatever you do, don't shove the cake in my face," he says harshly as he picks up a piece to feed me.

"Same goes for you," I hiss back at him.

That would be just like him. Tell me not to, but then do it to me instead. Whatever calm truce we had at the ceremony is slowly falling away. He's back to the asshole who loves to annoy the hell out of me. The one who brings out a side of me I secretly love, but equal parts fear.

What if I mouth off to the wrong person, forgetting the lessons that were ingrained in me since I was a child?

Declan is dangerous for me. He makes me forget who I am supposed to be. He unlocks a part of me I've always yearned to let free.

At the same time, we paste on our smiles and feed each other cake. Declan takes such a big bite that one of my fingers goes into his mouth, and he closes his lips around it before slowly releasing it, making our wedding guests go wild.

Not only that, it does something odd to me. Something I have only heard about in movies and books.

I feel heat inside me.

"Was that really necessary?" I ask quietly as I clean my hands with a napkin.

"Trust me, it wasn't planned, but it worked out, didn't it?" he snarks back. "Didn't realize I married such a prude."

Turning to him, I narrow my eyes. "You don't know anything about me. For all you know, I've fucked all your guards."

He growls, gripping my hips, pulling me into his chest. "They know if they touched you, they would be forfeiting their lives. You have been under my protection."

"You mean the Westies' protection. Since they are Westies as well, wouldn't that make it okay for them to enter into a willing sexual encounter with me?" I muse.

His hands tighten on me, but it doesn't hurt. It actually is causing that weird heat sensation to hit me again. Is this what it feels like to be turned on?

I can't be turned on by him. This is going to end badly for me.

"You were under my protection," he emphasizes. "If a single one of them laid a hand on you, I would tear them from their body. Limb by limb."

I shiver at the threat in his tone. "Why?"

"You're my wife. That means only I get to touch you. No one else."

I frown. "I wasn't your wife before, though, and it's not like this is real. I know you're going to take lovers."

His face is in mine in an instant. "Before, you were mine to protect. Now you are that and more. You will not take on any lovers. Do you understand me? You are mine now, which means that from this day forward, any man who even looks at you sideways deals with me."

I swallow hard. The violence in his gaze scares me.

This is what I was waiting for. The other shoe dropped. The glimpse of the man he truly is.

I also notice how he doesn't mention that he will not take on any lovers.

I'm about to speak again when the DJ announces it's time for the first dance.

Declan grabs my arm, moving me toward the dance floor.

Once in the middle, he pulls me into his arms and starts to move as soon as the music starts to play. It's not a song I recognize, but it's nice.

Declan doesn't say a word to me. Instead, he just looks down at me as if he is in love. I know the truth, though. He's playing a part. The same part I need to play.

Declan is surprisingly light on his feet. He twirls me, causing me to let out a laugh, surprising both of us. He does it a second time, smiling when my face lights up again. I'm actually having fun I think. Before I know it, our first dance is over.

"Thank fuck." Declan sighs as he steps back, rubbing his hand down his face.

"Can we leave yet?" I ask him quietly.

Declan laughs. "I wish."

"That's a wish I can grant." We turn and see Haruaki standing over Declan's shoulder. "Great wedding."

"Thank you," Declan and I say in unison.

Haruaki reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card before handing it to Declan.

"What's this?" Declan asks as he reluctantly takes it.

"It's the key to your hotel room for the night."

Declan freezes next to me. "This is unnecessary. We planned on going home after this. We don't live far."

Haruaki smirks. "I insist. It's the least I could do."

I don't miss the hardness in his tone. He isn't taking no for an answer.

"Thank you," I say without meaning it.

"You're welcome. How about you two get out of here and go consummate your marriage? I've found that there's nothing quite like having sex with your spouse," Haruaki says he turns to walk away but pauses. "I'll have someone stop by in the morning to collect the sheets. I mean, proof of your consummation should be handled with care."

"Is that necessary?" Declan grits out, catching Haruaki's true meaning.

He wants proof we have had sex. God, how archaic is he?

Haruaki raises a brow but doesn't say anything. Cleo calls for him, and he walks away.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Declan hisses.

I sigh as I fall into step beside him. It looks like this night is nowhere near over yet.