It wasn’t real. She’d repeated that to herself over and over again. But when she whispered her own vows, something shifted inside her. And when he slipped the antique wedding band on her finger, she felt the weight of a dozen generations on her shoulders. For better or worse, she was now a Garrison bride.
The preacher pronounced them husband and wife, the crowd erupted in a spontaneous cheer, and Alex leaned down to kiss her.
“For the record,” he whispered as his palms cupped her face and lips grew close. “I did marry the pretty one.”
Then his tender kiss exploded between them. He pulled back, far too soon. For a moment, and only for a moment, with her head tucked into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, feeling the strength of his arms and the power of his heartbeat, she let herself believe. But then she heard the helicopters in the distance and realized it was all for the benefit of the telephoto lenses.
Alex was grinning happily at her. He planted one more kiss on her forehead before taking her hand for the recessional. The band struck up, and the standing crowd congratulated them all the way down the aisle.
Back on the veranda, Katie gave her a quick hug and kiss, then they assembled into a receiving line to greet ambassadors, celebrities and captains of industry.
“You did great,” said Alex nearly two hours later as they made their way across the lawn. The sky had turned a glorious pink. The champagne was flowing, and succulent smells were beginning to waft from the tent.
“I want to jump up on the nearest table and confess to them all,” said Emma. The deeper they went into their deception, the guiltier she felt.
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” said Alex.
“Afraid I’d tarnish the Garrison name?”
He smirked. “Afraid you’d convince six hundred people you were a lunatic. I’d be forced to tell them you were merely drunk. It could get ugly.”
“I didn’t drink a thing.”
“You mean I’d be, gasp, lying?”
“Don’t you feel the least bit guilty?”
“At the moment, I feel…as if it’s none of their damn business.”
“You invited them to our wedding.”
“To eat Beef Wellington, not to pass judgment on my life.”
“They’re your friends and family.”
“You’re my family now.”
His words made her chest ache. “Don’t say that.”
In response, he took her hand and kissed each of the knuckles.
“Alex, don’t.” His playacting made her want things she couldn’t have, things they could never have together.
“Emma. It’s you and me now. And we’ll make whatever damn decisions we want.”
If only. But they weren’t living in a vacuum. “What about Katie? And Ryan? And Nathaniel.”
He sighed. “Are you always going to be this contrary?”
“My contrariness is a surprise to you?”
Before he could answer, Mrs. Nash bustled from the crowd, and he muttered in Emma’s ear. “Knew I should have put obey in the vows.”
“There you are.” Mrs. Nash swiftly plucked some imaginary lint from the bodice of Emma’s dress. Then she straightened Alex’s tie. “They need you two at the head table.”
“Nathaniel’s written a great toast,” said Alex.
Emma’s stomach sank. She didn’t think she could take any more benevolent smiles and heartfelt well wishes. “Surely you told him the truth.”
“I haven’t told him a thing.”
“So his toast will be sincere?”
“He’s going to call me lucky, and you gracious and beautiful.”
The words, “I did marry the pretty one,” suddenly rushed back into Emma’s brain. What could Alex have meant by that?
Katie was stunningly gorgeous tonight. Even though she was on David’s arm, half the men in the yard were staring openly at her, including Nathaniel, who looked annoyed about something.
“You are beautiful,” Alex continued in a gentle voice. “And I am lucky. Focus on the truth, Emma.”
It wasn’t as simple as that. “Yet all those so-called truths are couched in one very big lie.”
Had Nathaniel guessed what they’d done? Was that the reason for the scowl on his face?
“The head table,” prompted Mrs. Nash.
“You have a half-empty attitude,” Alex said to Emma.
“And you have flexible ethics.”
“Emma, Emma.” He put his hands on her shoulders, slowly guiding her toward the giant open-air tent. “Don’t fail me now.”
The speeches were over. The cake was cut. The Beef Wellington had been magnificent. And Emma was still holding up.
As the conductor cued up the first waltz, Alex counted his blessings and pulled her into his arms.
“Home stretch,” he whispered, as much to have an excuse to lean in close as to reassure her. She knew her only remaining duty was to throw the bouquet.
To his delight, she almost immediately softened against him, matching his step to “Color My World.” He’d chosen it because it was short. But it also seemed appropriate. He might not be in love with Emma, but she’d brought more life to his cavernous old house than he’d seen in years. He couldn’t help but think his father would gripe about the noise. He also knew his mother would be pleased.
Vaguely aware of the oohs and ahhs of the crowd around them, he was infinitely more aware of the soft, sensual woman, pliant in his arms. Her guard was down, he imagined from exhaustion, but he wasn’t going to dwell on the reason.
He planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Yeah, it would look good in the pictures. But, honestly, he felt like doing it. She’d been terrific today. In the receiving line, he’d been impressed with her graciousness all over again.
Maybe they could host some kind of Garrison-McKinley companies social function. Ryan would certainly be thrilled with the personal touch.
“We staying here tonight?” Emma asked, fatigue evident in her voice.
He shook his head. “Chuck will fly us to the airport.”
A genuine laugh left her lips. “A helicopter ride from your backyard to the roof to the airport?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay. I’m not going to complain about that.”
“You’re not?”
She shook her head against his chest. “Not tonight. You can go ahead and spoil me to death.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “You got it.”
The song ended, and a new one started up immediately. Emma would be relieved to have Nathaniel and Katie join them on the dance floor.
Alex caught sight of David scowling in the crowd. It was mean-spirited, but he was glad Nathaniel was making the man think. Taking a cushy job at his girlfriend’s company? That was just tacky.
Nathaniel danced up beside them. “May I?” He nodded to Emma.
Alex’s arms automatically tightened around her. No. He didn’t want to stop dancing with Emma. And he didn’t want lady-killer Nathaniel holding her close.
He felt a sudden pang of empathy for David.
“Certainly,” he said smoothly, smiling at his cousin and forcing his arms to release her.
Then he turned to Katie to complete the switch.
“Great party,” she told him, doing a hop step to catch up to his rhythm.
“Thanks.”
“Think you’d be willing to host your sister-in-law’s wedding?”
“My who?”
She tipped her chin to look up at him. “Me, of course.”
“Oh.”
“Think about it?”
“Sure.”
They danced a few more steps. “So what’s the story with your British cousin?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s very nosy.”
“Is he asking about Emma?”
Was Nathaniel yanking his chain? Or did he still think Emma was a threat? And why was her smile so bright?
“Is that jealousy?” teased Katie.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Alex dragged his attention away from Emma.