10
Ezra
Ezra, get your ass out here!” I sigh and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Damien was growing impatient waiting for me to get ready for our ‘wedding.’
When I pictured my wedding day, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I’d be wearing a custom-made designer gown, my family and friends would be present, there would be a carriage and a beautiful church where the man I love would wait for me excitedly to walk down the aisle and vow to love and protect me till death do us part.
“Ezra, you have thirty-seconds, or I will break that door down.” Instead, that is what I have. Once again, Damien has gone back to his customary cold-blooded, ruthless self, and I was right back where I was—detesting him. We didn’t talk about what happened between us after I had one of the most intense orgasms of my life.
I’ve gotten off before, but it was never like that. Damien was right. There’s so much I don’t know about myself, my own body, and he’s ignited a curiosity within me that’s keen to explore what else I had been missing out on. The whole sexual encounter we had in Nebraska, long forgotten, and honestly, I was discreetly relieved it was left unspoken. I sigh, wiping the tears of sorrow, and open the door. Damien was pacing the room when he stops and looks me over. There I stood, wearing a plain strapless white bridal dress.
“Let’s go.” Damien grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door like I was a testy child. We had checked into a hotel by the little white chapel in Vegas, where we were due to marry in less than ten minutes.
“Damien, stop, stop for a second.” I stop walking, and he looks back at me, his glare hard and impatient. “Do we really have to do this? There’s got to be another solution. You don’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry you.” I say to him and pray that he changes his mind and doesn’t force us to go through with this ludicrous plan. “We can’t even tolerate each other for more than five minutes. How are we supposed to live together as husband and wife?”
Damien takes a step close to me and stares me directly in the eyes, his brows drawn together, his face stony and eyes ice-cold— so cold it sent a chill through me. His grip on my arm tightens, and I grimace. “Listen to me very closely. We will never be husband and wife, Ezra. This is an arrangement, that’s all. You’ll have my name on paper—nothing more, nothing less. Or we can go back to our original plan, and I can kill you and terminate the contract. Your choice.”
I exhale slowly, and we stare at each other heatedly for a long moment. I close my eyes and sigh, defeated. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
* * *
No less than twenty minutes,I find myself standing face to face with Damien, a minister, and two strangers as our witnesses while a ‘minister’ announces that we are married. When asked if I took Damien to be my husband, I hesitated for a very long moment. My mouth just wouldn’t form the words ‘I do’ until Damien sent me a glare full of malice that shook me to my deepest core.
“You may kiss your bride…” oh crap.
Damien jerks me close to him and presses a kiss to my temple. I sigh in relief that he didn’t try and kiss me on the lips and pull away from him like his touch scorches my skin.
“Congratulations.” The minister pats Damien on the shoulder, who looks at the poor man as though he just put a gun to his head.
“Let’s go.” And once again, he grabs my arm and hauls my ass out of the chapel.
“What, no carrying your bride out of the threshold?” I snipe sardonically as we step out into the sweltering heat. Damien slides his shades on and looks around, downright ignoring my comment.
Friggin asshat.
As per usual, the lord of darkness is clad in all black—black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black blazer. How is he not sweating buckets right now?
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Let’s go eat.” I watch as he walks off, and when I make no move, he looks back at me, and even through those tinted aviators, I can tell he was shooting daggers my way, so I reluctantly follow him, and we eventually find a restaurant to sit and dine in.
“So, what now?” I question while he skims over the menu that a bubbly blonde waitress handed us before she saunters away, her large and warm amber eyes lingering on him a little too long. “Will people stop coming after me now?”
Damien drops the menu and looks at me before his eyes scan the area. Something I notice he does a lot. Always on the alert to everything around him. Occupational hazard, I assume. “No, but you’re safe for the moment.” He drawls and turns his glacial gaze to me again. “Until you prove otherwise.”
“Oh, joy. Is this the part where you lay down the law?”
God, I am so sick of his threats. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have chosen to die because being married to him is undoubtedly punishment worse than death. “Live by my rules or not at all? You’re not going to spew that cliché, are you?”
Damien smirks and sips his coffee. “I’m sure you’ve picked up by now that I don’t make a habit of repeating myself. I was pretty clear, Ezra. You’re my wife. As long as you carry my name, you will behave as such. I will not tolerate you tarnishing my name in any way. The life you had before is gone. You’re Ezra Wolfe now.”
I feel my insides clinch at the mention of my new title. I meet and hold his gaze steadily. “And what is Ezra Wolfe supposed to do now exactly? Are you going to lock me away in your ivory tower forever?”
“That all depends on you.”
I frown. “Meaning?”