She allows it without fighting me or saying a word. I stalk past the startled priest and across the chancel, headed toward the sacristy at the back. I yank open the door, pull Reyna through it, and slam the door shut behind me.
She backs up several steps until she hits the wall and can’t go any farther.
Surrounded by racks of priest’s vestments in the small, office-like room, we stare at each other in blistering silence.
I growl, “Start talking, viper. And whatever comes out of that mouth of yours better be the bloody truth.”
She licks her lips nervously. She inhales and briefly closes her eyes. Then she opens her eyes and looks straight into mine.
“Lili’s in love with a boy named Juan Pablo. He came here to stop the wedding. Gianni found them together in the dressing room and was going to kill them both.”
I try to unfuck my brain long enough to piece a sentence together. “How does that end up with you in a wedding dress?”
She knits her brows. “Because of the deal you made with Gianni. What other Caruso female did you think would take Lili’s place? My mother?”
When I don’t say anything, she begs softly, “Please, Quinn. Please don’t hurt them. They’re good kids. They’re just in love.”
I huff out a laugh that’s part surprise and part anger. “Why the fuck do you think I’d hurt her for being in love?”
Caught off guard by that, she blinks.
Now I’m really insulted.
I demand, “Do you really think so bloody little of me?”
“I…I didn’t know what to think. Everything happened so fast. All I knew was that Gianni was about to start firing his gun, so I proposed an alternative.”
We’re staring at each other again. Both of us are breathing hard. She’s got anxiety written all over her, I’m about to choke in my bloody bow tie, and my dick is painfully straining the zipper of my trousers, throbbing with need just from looking at her.
Looking at her and thinking Fuck me, how bad I want to be balls-deep in that.
I lick my lips and step closer.
“So you thought I’d just accept this little switch of yours? You thought I’d have no problem substituting you for Lili?”
She gazes at me for a moment, then pulls the veil back over her head, exposing her face.
And her chest. And her cleavage. And her shoulders. And her lovely long neck, on the side of which a vein erratically pulses.
Christ, she’s fucking magnificent. I almost groan out loud with desire.
Examining the expression on my face, she says, “Yes.”
Because I’m no longer in complete control of my body, I step closer until we’re only inches apart and I’m staring down into her wide, beautiful eyes, watching her fight not to give in to the urge to run.
“You told me last night not even the threat of your own death could make you walk down the aisle again.”
“It was the threat of Lili’s death that changed my mind.”
“So this is about Lili? That’s all it’s about?”
When she glances away, I take her chin in my hand and force her to look at me. “It’s truth-telling time, remember?”
She nibbles on her lower lip for a moment, hesitating. “I’m not comfortable answering that.”
“And I’m not comfortable taking a wife who thinks she’s not going to have to sleep with me.”
She closes her eyes and mutters, “Jesus Christ, Quinn, you’re killing me.”
Leaning close to her ear, my heart pounding like mad and my dick aching, I murmur, “If I marry you, Reyna, I get to fuck you as hard and as often as I want.”
“Oh my God.”
“That’s the deal, or there’s no deal.”
She says sarcastically, “Should we add it to the contract?”
I pull away and gaze down at her. “I’ve wanted you since the first second I saw you, stabbing me to death with those eyes from the bedroom window at your house. This fake marriage includes sex, or it doesn’t happen.”
She glares at me. “Your charm could sweep a girl right off her feet, you know that?”
“Wait till you see my cock. Then you’ll really be swooning.”
Her whole face turns red, from her neck to her hairline. She presses her lips together into a thin line.
I know that isn’t a rejection. She’s not saying no, which means she’s saying yes.
But she has to say it out loud.
“So? Do you agree?”
Sounding as if she’d like to shove her bouquet down my throat, she says, “Yes, Quinn. I agree.”
“Good. Then go ahead and ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“To marry you.”
Her mouth drops open. She stares at me in shock for a moment, then says flatly, “You’re joking.”
I point at my face. “This isn’t my joking face. Ask me. And do it nicely, or I might say no, because I’ll be taking my own life into my hands.”
“How so?”
I smirk at her. “Any man who marries a Black Widow has to sleep with one eye open.”
Oh, how she hates it when I smirk. Her eyes glitter with anger. She says through stiff lips, “That’s a very smart idea.”
Then she draws herself up to her full height, looks at me with withering disdain, and grits out, “Mr. Quinn…will you marry me?”
I reach out and stroke my fingertips over her cheek. “Aye, viper,” I murmur, feeling my blood pump fast and hot through my veins. “I’ll marry you. But if you decide to kill me, wait until tomorrow.”
She arches a brow. “Because?”
“Because I need to feel those sharp claws of yours dig into my back at least once before I die.”
I grab her hand and lead her out of the room and back to the altar.
20
Rey
When we exit the room, half the church is on its feet. The sanctuary echoes with sound. Whispering voices, muffled laughter, the rustle of clothing. The instant we’re spotted, however, the noise dies and everyone turns to stare at us.
Quinn commands loudly, “Everybody back in your bloody seats.”
He drags me to my position, says to Declan, “Full speed ahead, mate,” then snaps his fingers at the priest, indicating he wants him to get a move on.
The priest looks at Declan for direction.
Sending an amused glance toward the astounded guests, Declan says, “Maybe we should skip the mass and get straight to the vows, Father.”
“Yer bang on,” says Kieran, chuckling. “This rowdy lot’s about to start throwin’ eggs.”
I still haven’t caught my breath when the priest says to me in a heavy Irish accent, “What’s your name, lass?”
“Reyna.”
“Lovely. Best of luck to you.”
Cradling the Bible against his chest, he looks up at the crowd and lifts a hand. He keeps it lifted until everyone has taken a seat again and the sanctuary is silent. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Homer and Reyna in the blessed sacrament of marriage.”
More than one person on both sides of the aisle whispers, “Who?”
Ignoring them, Quinn growls to the priest, “Get to the kissing part.”
He’s staring at me when he says it, wearing an expression of hunger and hot impatience, his gaze darting back and forth between my eyes and my mouth.
My hands tremble so hard, all the flowers in the bouquet quake.
The priest sighs, shaking his head. “Very well. Do you, Homer, take this woman—”
“I do.”
“Hold your horses, lad,” the priest mutters. “This isn’t a bloody race.” He exhales hard and starts again. “Do you, Homer—”
“I do.”
“—take this woman, Reyna—”
“I do.”
After pausing for another aggrieved sigh, he continues. “To be your wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day—”
Quinn interrupts vehemently, “I do. To all of it. Now get to the kissing part.”
“You can’t kiss her until she says her vows!”
“Then get on with it!”
The priest looks at the vaulted ceiling for a beat, then turns to me. “Do you, Reyna…”
That’s all I hear. After that, everything is drowned out by the high-pitched buzzing in my ears and the roar of my pulse underscoring it.
I’m sweating. Trembling. Hyperventilating so badly, I’m in danger of passing out. This must be a dream or a nightmare, some impossible fantasy world I’m trapped in where I agreed to marry a stranger to save my niece’s life.
Except Quinn’s not a stranger. Not a total stranger, anyway.
But he is the one who described this union as a “fake” marriage.
A fake marriage specifically including sex.
So we’re both here by obligation, but he’s already got an advantage. He’s gained a concession from me, but I haven’t gained anything.
Except another lifetime commitment I didn’t want.
Suddenly, I realize the sanctuary has gone dead silent.
There’s an air of expectation, like a collective held breath. I look around in panic, unsure what’s happening because I’ve been lost in my thoughts, when the priest gently prompts, “This is where you say ‘I do,’ lass.”
Panicking, I blurt, “Where’s the ring?”
A ripple of laughter goes through the crowd.
Quinn’s glower indicates he doesn’t find anything funny.
Declan reaches into the jacket of his tux. He pulls out a folded white silk pocket square. He unwraps it and hands Quinn a ring.