The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)

He scowled. “I am not.”

But he successfully maneuvered his granddaughter out of his wife’s arms and into his own. My sister was right; he hogged the baby every chance he got. I didn’t think it was possible for my parents to love anyone more than my sister and me, but my niece was giving us a run for our money.

A short set of knocks came from the door, causing our conversation and my heart to stop. Was it time already? When the door opened, I expected it to be one of the wedding coordinators, dressed elegantly in black and wearing an earpiece, but it wasn’t.

A chill swept into the room with him.

“I need a minute alone with the bride,” Macalister said.

His voice had an edge of strain, like he’d held back the desire to demand everyone leave the room immediately. They got the message loud and clear, though. My mother exchanged a furtive glance with me, unsure if she should go, but I nodded. There was no point in fighting this. It was his house, and he was paying the entire astronomical bill for this wedding, so they needed to honor his simple request.

He kept his head turned away, watching the photographers, my family, and Sophia file out of the room, and didn’t look at me until the door was shut and we were alone. As if he didn’t want anyone else around while he looked upon me for the first time.

His gaze began at the hem of my white satin dress, trimmed delicately with lace and beading, and ever so slowly climbed upward. Donna Willow had given me elaborate, showstopping pieces to wear in the past, but my wedding dress showed off her more restrained side. I’d given her three requirements, and she’d nailed each one.

The first was that the dress be sophisticated. It was classically elegant with a long train and a simple neckline, which played into the second requirement. I wanted to wear my great-grandmother’s wreath necklace, and not have it compete with the garment.

My final requirement was that it show off Royce’s favorite place on my body.

So, it was backless. My dark hair had been twisted up and pinned away, and my cathedral-length veil unembellished, so as I walked down the aisle, our guests would catch a glimpse of my bare back, obscured only by a thin layer of tulle.

Macalister hadn’t seen that yet, though, since I was facing him, and I was glad. Him seeing me alone like this, before any other Hale, was a power move. It should have been Royce, standing at the end of the aisle, and I was angry his father had stolen that from him.

I also didn’t like how he was looking at me. It was the same way Royce had looked at me the first time I’d tried on the red dress nearly a year ago. The longing in Macalister’s eyes was downright terrifying and made my insides bubble.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Each time I think you couldn’t possibly look more beautiful, you prove me wrong.”

I swallowed painfully, struggling to get out my response. “Thank you.”

There wasn’t a wrinkle or speck of anything marring his black tux, and his white shirt was as pristine as his eyes. Everything was perfectly in place, from his dark brown hair to the white square peeking out of his pocket, and the white rose pinned to his lapel. Of course, it was. Today he was Zeus, the god all the other gods and goddesses looked up to.

My nerves obliterated whatever tiny filter I had on my mouth. “Every time I see you in a tuxedo, something bad happens.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Today, you take my name and fully become a Hale.”

“Royce’s name,” I corrected.

“Which I gave to him.” As if a thought had just occurred to him, he reached inside his tuxedo jacket and strode toward me. “I have something to give you.”

My heart lurched up into my throat. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it. Gifts from Macalister came with strings, and I’d only felt free the last few months. “No, thank you.”

He ignored me and produced a tiny black box, only big enough to hold something outrageously expensive. I shook my head, making my veil swish across my back. When I refused to accept the box, he opened it and thrust it forward.

The oval sapphire at the center of the ring was massive, and diamonds flanked it on either side, and it was so beautiful it stole my breath. My gaze fluttered from the ring up to his in disbelief. This ring was way, way too much. That size of it alone made me nervous, but for him to give me a ring—one that could have stood in as an engagement ring—it was wildly inappropriate.

“It’s beautiful, but I couldn’t.” I took a step back, retreating.