Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

B rittany's breath caught as she stepped off of the portico and got her first glimpse of her husband-to-be.

Nick stood under a beautiful poinciana lush with vivid crimson blossoms, his black tux framed against the vibrant colour. With the sun setting behind him casting a golden glow over everything, and the fairy lights strung through the trees twinkling to life, the entire scene was surreal.

It shouldn't be this romantic, this enticing, this special.

This wedding was all business.

Tell that to my heart, she thought, as she took a tentative step, her stiletto sandals skidding as they hit the sandstone pavers.

She couldn't see Nick's expression from this distance but as she walked towards him the shadows cast from the blossoms cleared and what she saw took her breath away all over again.

Honest to goodness, undiluted, happiness.

Why would he look like that? He was the one who'd proposed this ridiculous arrangement in the first place, had made it more than clear what they'd get out of it.

So why the proud expression of a man who'd glimpsed his real bride for the first time?

Her heart hammered in time with her steps, beating a rapid rhythm as she all but tripped towards him, eager to get this over and done with.

While the setting might be picture perfect and her groom beyond handsome, this wasn't how she'd envisioned her wedding ceremony. Sure, the groom might be the same guy she'd imagined, but that was a lifetime ago. So much had happened, so much had changed, and she was a fool if she thought for one second that anything about this marriage resembled her dreams of years gone by.

The closer she got, the louder her heart roared, until she could barely hear by the time she stood next to him, a nervous, trembling mess.

'You're a beautiful bride,' Nick murmured in her ear, so close his warm breath raised a trail of tiny goosebumps along her neck, and she knew while this marriage might be all business on paper, she wondered how on earth she'd manage to keep it platonic in the bedroom.

'Thanks.'

She cast a nervous glance at the civilian minister in a white suit, and a pair of bored witnesses in hotel uniforms. Her eyes squeezed shut as she dragged air into her lungs.

How had it come to this?

A quickie wedding, empty and meaningless, to a man she'd once loved with all her heart yet who hadn't loved her enough in return, when all she'd wanted to do when she'd come home was gather information to secure a promotion.

'Hey, it's going to be okay.' Nick squeezed her hand and she opened her eyes, captured by the kindness in his, kindness underlined by happiness she'd glimpsed earlier. 'Trust me.'

Trust him?

She'd trusted him with her heart.

She'd trusted him with her virginity.

She'd trusted him to be her forever person.

And he'd let her leave anyway.

So excuse her if she was a little light in the trust stakes these days.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. 'Let's get this done.'

Shadows gathered in his eyes, obliterating his joy, and she mentally kicked herself for sounding so abrupt. He wasn't forcing her into this. She was a big girl, she'd made her own decision, and now the moment of truth had arrived she had to suck it up.

Nick gestured to the minister to start and the next ten minutes flew by in a blur of meaningless vows, empty promises, and pretend smiles.

Her heart ached so much she almost cried, twice, but one look into Nick's determined dark eyes gave her the strength to get through it.

Until the kiss.

'You may now kiss the bride.'

The minister beamed as if he'd bestowed the greatest gift but all Britt could think was how she'd hold it together when Nick's lips touched hers.

Her eyelids slammed shut against the threatening tears, against the determination on his face as his head descended, slowly, agonisingly slowly, when all she wanted was for this to be done with.

She wanted a quick, seal-the-deal kiss.

What she got was something else entirely, as his lips brushed hers, soft, gentle, tantalising, drawing her towards him like an invisible gossamer thread being gently tugged.

She couldn't break the spell as he bundled her in his arms and kissed her with every ounce of pent-up emotion bubbling between them.

The tears started falling then, swift, coursing, raining down her cheeks and splattering his lapels as he dabbed them away with his thumbs, his smile too warm, too tender, too understanding.

'Damn you, Mancini,' she muttered, her gaze firmly fixed on the second button of his dress shirt as she blinked rapidly.

'I feel this too, Red.' He tilted her chin up, giving her no option but to meet his scrutinising gaze. 'Don't fight it.'

She had as much chance of fighting this as receiving a welcome-home hug from her father. But she knew she mustn't give in to this attraction simmering between them, couldn't give into the insane dream to make this marriage real. She had a life in London, a promotion to nail.

Then why the renewed rush of tears at the thought of leaving Nick behind?

'Come on, we're almost done, then we can relax.'

He held her hand the entire time through the signing of the certificates, through the forced pleasantries from the minister, the congratulations from the witnesses she didn't know, and the trip in the elevator to the fifth floor.

'Where are we going?'

Stupid question, because she knew, and every cell in her body snapped to high alert. They had to have a fake wedding night for people to believe this marriage was real. The part she was having trouble with was reminding herself of the fake part.

'Our suite.'

Two little words that sent a tremor of longing through her as she wished she was being whisked away to a fabulous room with her husband for real. But this wasn't real, none of it was, and she needed to keep telling herself that as he held onto her hand as if he'd never let go.

'It's one of the hotel's best. The type of room that allows the occupants to step into a different world and let all their fantasies come true.'

His husky tone, along with the basest desire glittering in his eyes, made her skin prickle with alarm.

Hell, why did he have to mention fantasies? It would've been hard enough resisting him without the added pressure of envisioning all the inventive ways she could share a room with the hottest guy to walk the earth; possibly seeing him naked, his hair ruffled by sleep first thing in the morning, that sexy smile playing about his mouth…

'I'm sure the room will be fine.' Could she sound any lamer?

‘It's better than fine.'

She inhaled sharply, Nick's subtle woody aftershave that had teased her for the last few hours warping her senses when she had a precarious enough hold on them as it was.

'It's the French suite. Hope you like it.'

The French suite?

In that moment, her magnanimous decision to share a room for a faux wedding night with Nick took on a whole new meaning. She could've handled a basic, boring, run-of-the-mill room. The French suite sounded way too seductive for comfort.

Though right now, with Nick palming a key card out of his pocket as they stopped outside an elaborate ivory and gold door, she had more important things to worry about.

Like how she could keep the guy she'd loved all those years ago at arm's length.

More importantly, did she want to?