Her gown was diaphanous, made of the finest and most delicate silver threaded Gauzy Chantilly lace on a very pale rose background the same shade of her skin. A sheer bodice of silver Gauzy Chantilly lace with fitted long sleeves had tiny embroidered flowers of the same lace. The skirt was made of asymmetrical layers of pale rose organza, with the same tiny flowers of silver lace scattered over it. It fell to the ground in a soft A shape, and the right amount of flair, floating around as she moved.
Alistair looked at Victoria, in awe of her talent and smiled. She blew him a kiss, her brows wiggling.
He loves you. You love him. Sophia chanted the words in her head, but they didn’t lessen her trembling as she descended the stairs and walked down the aisle.
Never in her life Sophia had felt so nervous. She clutched Felipe’s arm and tried to smile a couple of times, but gave up. All she could do was breathe and count her paces to move steadily forward. Her lips parted in a breathless way more alluring than any smile.
The white flower arrangements and the colorfully dressed guests were no more than blurs as she walked by. All she could feel was Alistair’s warm and possessive gaze calling her to him.
Reaching his side, she took a deep breath taking in his masculine scent. Their eyes met and she saw in his the same nervousness and need.
She felt anticipation streak through her and she remembered him quoting Dante when they first met. It’s the spark before the flame.
“Alistair,” Felipe greeted Alistair and put Sophia’s hand in his, “she is a precious jewel. You take care of her.”
Jesus Christ! How many more are going to tell me this? He noted her ribs expand as she inhaled deeply and raised her eyes to him. His flaming green eyes met her light yellow diamond ones and locked.
Holding both of her freezing hands in his, he whispered, amazed by the song she had chosen and remarking from it. “You need nothing else but me?”
Her lips trembled in a smile and she nodded.
“So let’s forget the world?” he asked.
She shook her head now with a small smile in her lips.
He quirked an eyebrow and grinned teasingly at her. “Are you going to just nod when Father Bruce asks you to repeat your vows?” He nodded his head, “Like this?”
“Those three words will never be enough,” was her hoarse reply.
“Better.” He stepped closer to her, and his fingers curled around her wrists, bringing them to his chest. “Nervous?”
“Are you?” she asked as she nodded confirming what everyone could see.
“All I can promise is not to faint,” he sneered.
“God forbid.” She grinned then.
Valentina, Victoria, Felipe and Edward were chuckling. The priest looked at the rabbi and cleared his throat.
“I brought two handkerchiefs in case you decided to cry.” He laughed when she opened her hand and showed a frilly lacy handkerchief wrung in her fist.
His smoothed a hand over her lace covered back, spreading his fingers on the small of her back, and stopping dangerously near her buttocks. “Are you trying to entice the male guests?”
Lachlann coughed, disguising a laugh. Angelica didn’t even try to conceal hers.
“Only you,” she sighed, stepping closer. Her arm wrapped around his waist. “Was I successful?”
The rabbi cleared his throat louder than the priest.
“I don’t have words to describe how stunning you look.” His hand pressed her closer.
“Aren’t you disappointed I didn’t choose white?” She raised her face to his.
“Sophia. You could never disappoint me. Your real beauty resides inside you. Your soul is so pure that it is white,” he declared to her, his face bending.
She rose on her tiptoes, “And you are the most handsome Scottish groom I’ll ever see.”
“Lad! Lass!” Father Bruce shouted.
They were startled and looked up from each other as discreet laugh could be heard around the chapel.
“Sorry, Father,” they said in unison and gazed at each other again, grinning.
The priest mumbled something under his breath and started the service.
“In the presence of God and these witnesses, I, Alistair Connor Davenport MacCraig, take thee, Sophia, the light of my life, my own sun, to be my wedded wife, from this day forward until my last breath, promising to trust you with all the faith in my spirit, to have you with all the hope in my soul, and to worship you with all the love in my heart.” He grinned at her while he slid the wedding band on her finger, his forest green eyes holding so much love that Sophia could no longer stop the tears.
“Come on, wife. Stop crying,” he ordered, his pristine white handkerchief drying her face.
She smiled at him through her tears, “I never promise to obey.”
“I think I can manage your disobedience, Beauty.” He grinned broadly, overjoyed by her blatant happiness. “Keep crying and you’re going to turn from my Beauty into the Beast.”
Oh! “Stop. I can’t concentrate like this,” she retorted.
“Beast!” he whispered.
Sophia tightened her lips, but a strangled giggle bubbled anyhow. “They’ll think we are crazy.”
Alistair chuckled and murmured on her lips, “I am, you know? Crazy about you.”
“Alistair Connor!” The old priest was clearly horrified. “Not yet, you have to wait for her vows.”
“I’m waiting, but she’s just taking too long.” Alistair turned his head to look at the priest who’d known him since he was a child. “Father Bruce, can we hurry things along?”
The priest threw his hands to the sky, shocked, not believing what he had just heard. “Forgive them, Father, they don’t know what they are doing.”
Sophia blushed as she heard the laughter all around her. She looked briefly at Felipe and Gabriela, who were clearly amused by the whole ceremony. Or the lack of it.
That’s enough Sophia! She took a deep breath and locked her eyes on Alistair’s.
“In the presence of God and before these witnesses, I, Sophia Gonçalves Espírito Santo Leibowitz, give to you, Alistair Connor, my heart, my soul, and all that I am. I promise to be faithful and loyal, to cherish and to love you. I choose you today to be my husband, as I will choose you tomorrow and every new day for the rest of our lives.” Her hands shook as she put his ring on his finger.
“Now, son,” Father Bruce had a smile in his voice, “you may kiss the bride.”
Afternoon sunlight poured through the long windows onto the ballroom. Gowns of every hue vied with bright jewels and equally bright eyes. Surrounded by felicitations and congratulations, Sophia moved through the crowd, smiling. She spied Alistair talking to friends in a corner. She headed toward them.
Alistair saw her long before she reached him. The thrill was still there, the sudden breathlessness, the ache of longing, the need to give and to take. He wondered if the feeling would ever fade.
“I come to steal my husband away, gentlemen.” She turned to Alistair and smiled, “It’s time to cut the cake.”
“Dessert?” Alistair gave her a wicked smile and gallantly raised Sophia’s hand to his lips kissing it before putting it on his arm. “Your merest wish is my command.”
Oh. You naughty man. Sophia flashed him a wanton smile as they walked to the center of the ballroom.
“In fact,” he mused, his voice deepening to a purr and his thumb caressing her wrist, “I’m anticipating fulfilling a good number of your wishes before the night is through.”
She laughed, “Keep speaking like this and I’ll blush.”
“Brides are supposed to blush, didn’t anyone tell you?” Alistair’s words feathered her ear as he steered her among the guests. “Besides, you look delightful when you blush.”