He blinked. Then he smiled. “How long have you been working on that speech?”
“All week. Too strong of an emphasis on the ‘really’?”
“No, that part was good.” He sounded impressed. “It was the last clause that threw me off. Say it a little slower next time so it sounds more threatening. It was a little too fast for me.”
“I was serious about having you murdered.”
He nodded and walked over to me, shaking my hand. “I won’t hurt her. Now, where is the best man’s box for this weekend?”
“It should be at your house already. Angela had it delivered this morning.”
Claire and I walked around the hotel’s outdoor garden, hand in hand. It was the day before our wedding, and even though we'd been with each other all day, we’d hardly said a word.
Earlier that morning we’d sampled the final sweets selection from Stella’s, listened to a few short songs from the full orchestra we’d hired, and driven around the newly built wedding venue.
She’d wanted to go inside and take a look at the reception room—to see how they were setting it up, but I wouldn’t let her; I wanted that to be a surprise.
“Do you think they’re going to remember what I said about the flower petals? How I want them to look on the aisle?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure they’ll remember.” I pulled her close to me.
“And what about the chair sashes? I specifically showed them how I wanted them to be tied, but it looked like they weren’t paying attention to me.”
“That’s probably because it was your tenth time telling them. They’re professionals.”
She sighed. “I just want it to be a perfect wedding...”
“It will be.” I bent down to kiss her lips, but she was suddenly yanked away from me.
“That’s enough.” Helen scoffed. “God, you two kill me. You’ll see each other at the wedding. And then you’ll have all eternity. It’s time for your spa treatments, Claire.”
“Right now?” She blinked.
“Yes. Now.” Helen tugged her away from me and she blew me a kiss.
I smiled and blew one back at her before turning away in the other direction—impatiently waiting for tomorrow.
Chapter 19
Claire
I couldn't sleep.
My heart was pounding out of my chest, and even though the air vents in the room were blasting heavily, I was sweating. I couldn’t stop thinking—smiling, about what lay ahead in the morning, about how my life would change when I became Mrs. Statham.
Nervous, I slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom. I held a towel under cold water and pressed it against my face, being careful not to touch the strange white patches Bobbie Jo and Kim had placed over my eyebrows.
The spa treatments they’d put me through earlier were more extensive than the ones in Costa Rica, and they hadn’t allowed me to say a single word about any of them. They didn’t even let me see Jonathan when he showed up to my suite with flowers, claiming that seeing the groom the night before the wedding was bad luck.
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. Sleeping without Jonathan by my side was never comfortable.
I decided to take a few swigs of wine to get through the night, but I heard a soft tapping at my door. I slipped into my robe and looked through the peephole.
Jonathan?
I cracked the door open, whispering, “What are you doing?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Are you calling the wedding off?”
“No.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here. Go away.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come go for a ride with me.”
I shook my head. “You’re not supposed to see me until the wedding.”
He pulled a pair of shades and a folded baseball cap out of his pocket. “Then I won’t see you. We need to talk...”
I slid the glasses over my eyes and pulled the cap over my head before stepping out of the room.
He took my hand in his and led me down the hall and onto the elevator, keeping his gaze straight ahead. When we made it to the lobby, valet pulled his car around and held the doors open.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To our wedding venue.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to see everything together before tomorrow.” He waited for me to buckle my seatbelt before speeding off into the night.
Half an hour later, he pulled his car into the cobblestoned turnaround and helped me out. Slipping an arm around my waist, he walked me inside where Miss Corwin and her staff were busy decorating away—making last minute adjustments.
She raised her eyebrow when we stepped in front of her. “Shouldn’t you two be in bed?” She smiled. “Separately?”