Mason (Mail-Order Brides For Christmas)

I decide right then that I’m going to do it. I’m going to marry Mason Mistletoe.

I don’t answer him, not ready to tell him everything and too shy to tell him just how handsome I think he is. I march to the front of the room, and when I turn back toward him, he’s just standing there, staring at me. “We going to do this, Mason? Because I’d like to be married to you,” I tell him almost shyly.

He walks toward me slowly, obviously confused. He stands facing me, and I wish we had more time. I wish we could at least get to know each other a little bit before we do the ceremony. But in my heart, I know this is what I want to do.

Mason takes my hands in his, and I gasp softly. The sensation of heat and desire that originated at his touch and then radiates throughout my body is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. As his eyes snap to mine, I know he feels it too. He tightens his grip, and I can see the vein throbbing in his forehead.

We say our vows, repeating word for word what the minister tells us to say. And when Mason puts the rings on my finger and gives me the ring I am to use for him, my hands are shaking. I’m suddenly nervous at what it’s going to be like to kiss him if just touching his hand has me tingling from head to toe.

4

Mason

I disregard the surge of attraction that pulses throughout my body. It’s just a built-in, natural response to an attractive female, nothing more. And it’s not like I can do anything about it now. I’m pretty sure I’ve already freaked out Mia, and I don’t know why she’s going through with this anyway. I know I’ve scared her and am causing her to have second thoughts. Man, before the war, before the scar, I was the life of the party and could make anyone feel comfortable. But not anymore. I don’t want any attention on myself, but I’m finding that I want hers. I want her to look at me and never look away. I clench my jaw and remind myself again that this is just a business deal. That’s all. We are getting married to save Snow Valley. Nothing more, nothing less.

So why do I feel such a strong sense of possessiveness toward her when I slip the engagement and marriage rings on her finger? Why am I seeking her eyes out, wanting to look into their depths when earlier I didn’t want her to look at me at all? And why do I feel the vows I repeat to her to the very depths of my soul? Even though I tried to convince myself that we can get a divorce if this doesn’t work out, I know that there’s no way I would go through with it. The promises I’m making to her right now I plan to keep. At least I will as long as she lets me.

Her quivering hand as she only just manages to put my ring on reminds me that she doesn’t want me. And maybe she doesn’t feel the vows as strongly as I do. She’s freaking out, and the way her breaths are labored I’m almost worried she’s going to pass out. This is all just a business deal. That’s all. A business deal. It’s almost like a chant that is on repeat in my head. Call it what you want, but I’m guarding my heart because this little petite woman with the curves and innocent face has me wanting things I shouldn’t be wanting. Things I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Like spending forever with her in my arms. Before I can get further into my thoughts, I drag my eyes from hers.

My military training has my senses kicking at me that someone is watching us, and I look over at the window of the door.

Pretty boy is on the other side, watching us. I should have known that he wouldn’t just disappear, but I can’t say that I blame him. I don’t think I could walk away from her easily either. Obviously, he thought more of their meeting than she did.

My hands tighten on Mia, and she looks at me questioningly. Her shining blue eyes are clear as a cloudless summer sky. She’s beautiful and breathtaking, and as of right now, she’s mine. And I plan to claim her.

The possessive feeling returns, and I give in to it as the minister announces, “You may now kiss the bride.”

I’d planned to give her a simple kiss, but as my lips touch hers, that plan goes out the window. I give her such a deep, searing kiss that anybody watching knows that Mia belongs to me. I kiss her longer than I should, considering the fact that we just met and also the fact that she is probably scared to death of my gruff demeanor. But I can’t let her go. I wrap my arms around her, resting them on her back and tugging her close, fitting her against my hard body. The hard peaks of her nipples scrape across my chest. Her hands are at my waist, and they clench at the material of my shirt as if she’s worried that I’ll stop or pull away. The moan either comes from her or me or the both of us, but it doesn’t stop me from sweeping my tongue in her mouth and tasting her before forcing myself to pull away before I embarrass her even further.