I was annoyed then. At her for asking. At myself for capitulating. Women chase me, not the other way around. And, ironically, the one woman whose attention should be a given is the only person whose lack of it bothers me. I admire her for treating me with a callousness I didn抰 expect, for not getting swept up in the pomp and circumstance of what is, at the end of the day, nothing more than a business arrangement. However, it抯 put me in the strange situation of having to pursue what I want from her.
My expectations of this marriage never included a wife who wants nothing to do with me. It would be convenient梚f not for the fact I find Scarlett captivating and intriguing. I want her attention.
I have no idea when I抣l kiss her again after this, so I intend to savor every second. Most of today梩he gold foil invitations and the thousand plus attendees and the flowers covering the end of every pew梥eemed unnecessary. This feels very necessary.
The thin lace of her veil tickles my palms as I raise my hands. I cradle her face like it抯 a bubble that might pop. Like it抯 the most precious possession I own. Her pulse thrums rapidly, just below her jawline. Her eyes turn heated, betraying how her body hasn抰 moved at all. I hesitate for a few more seconds, letting the anticipation build to a breaking point.
She may want to梩ry to梖orget this day. This moment.
She won抰 be able to.
Our lips collide. I can taste her surprise, followed by relief the torture has ended. I抦 not finished though. I slide my hands down to rest on her waist as I tease my tongue along the seam of her lips. I swallow the slight gasp that allows the entry I抦 seeking. Then she starts kissing me back and I forget everything I was trying to accomplish.
Our kiss is fireworks and heat and passion. Combustible. Explosive. Electric. More than a cold fusion of assets. It抯 a struggle to remember where we are. Why it抯 not an option to bend her over the nearest available surface.
Ice can be chipped away at. But fire? Only fools trifle with fire. Fire destroys everything in its path.
There抯 a split-second, right after I pull away and end the kiss, where this feels real. When I抦 looking at her and she抯 looking at me and that抯 the extent of anything that matters. It lingers between us卆nd then it抯 gone.
揑 present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Crew Kensington!?
I incline my head. Scarlett gives me a barely perceptible nod. And we turn, facing the crowd that is clapping and cheering and standing.
We抮e married. The woman standing next to me is my wife. I抳e had almost a decade to get used to the idea. It wasn抰 long enough, clearly, because the words sound strange in my head. Maybe marriage is one of those things that can抰 be prepared for.
Maybe it抯 that I care梐bout her, about the significance of the vows we just exchanged梐nd I didn抰 think I would.
I take the hand hanging limply at her side, and we start our descent. Past my father and Candace and Oliver. Past Scarlett抯 parents. Past the politicians and celebrities and the business moguls. People who think they抮e witnessing a fairy tale and people who know a monopoly was just secured.
The aisle is long. I keep a smile pasted on my face for the full few minutes it takes to traverse from the apse of the cathedral to its narthex. As soon as we pass the final pew, I let the fake expression fall. There抯 a small army waiting for us outside the doors. Scarlett is ushered away by two women immediately, and I抦 left to nod along to the wedding planner as she talks.
It抯 probably an accurate representation of how the rest of our lives together will look.
The reception is worse than I imagined it might be. Usually, I抦 selective about who I socialize with. Tonight, I have no choice. Every person here wants a moment with me. A chance to offer congratulations and earn favor.
Scarlett is surrounded as well. The first time I have a chance to talk to her is several hours after we left the altar, during our first dance. She抯 looking at me, but she抯 not really looking. I know it抯 purposeful. I caught a glimpse of vulnerability earlier. Now she抯 reinforcing her walls. Battening down the emotional hatches.
I shouldn抰 care.
It shouldn抰 make me want to push.
揗aybe we should have practiced this too,?I suggest, as she moves stiff and unwilling in my arms. For a second, I catch a glimpse of a smile. 揑 think we should set some ground rules.?
揊or??she asks, glancing away. Out at the admiring onlookers surrounding us. A few cameras flash.
揢s.?
Scarlett is no longer pretending to pay attention to the crowd. Her eyes fly to mine. 揧ou want to discuss this now??
揧ou抮e still leaving tonight, right? I figured it would be best to hammer out some details before then. Plus, you抳e avoided me since we got engaged.?