Waylen scowls and grabs her by the shoulders, spinning her around, so her back is to him. A rough and heavy hand grabs the zipper on her back and pulls it down. Her dress falls to the floor in a white puddle around her feet, and she crosses her arms over her bare b.r.e.a.s.ts.
He takes the diamond and pearl dress off its hanger and forces it down over her head. Instead of a zipper, there are dozens of small pearl buttons down the back. He quickly buttons her up and spins her around to look at her.
The dress swirls and floats around her, and she smiles without meaning too. The silk feels liquid soft against her skin, and the dress is light and airy despite all the diamonds. Even more surprisingly, it fits her like a glove. She half wonders how Waylen was able to guess her measurements so perfectly.
Before she can say anything, he scoops her up in his arms and carries her into the church. The room is empty save for three bodyguards, Robert, the priest, and Andrew. Andrew is tied to a chair, and one of the bodyguards stands behind him, ready to pull his gun on the prisoner.
“Well, you look, lovely honey,” Andrew says with a wink.
“Shut him up,” Waylen growls.
“You have to listen to me, honey,” Andrew says. “I may have lied to you, but I did it out of love.”
Leilani scowls and looks away from his face to the petals below him. They’re all red—and it’s impossible to tell if the color is natural or blood. Her stomach twists, and she looks up at the altar. Another bodyguard stands behind the priest, pointing his gun at the old man’s head.
Waylen puts her down and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his gun. He spins on Andrew and fires. The bullet whizzes across the room and nicks Andrew in the ear. Blood flows from the wound and drips onto his shoulder.
“Consider that a warning shot,” Waylen says.
Leilani’s heart clenches. She indeed hates Andrew for lying and trying to force her to marry him, but she has to admit he’s saved her life multiple times. As much as she hates him, she doesn’t want to see him dead.
Andrew winces with pain and shakes his head. Blood streaks across his cheek, and he shrugs. His hands are tied, so there’s nothing he can do about his injured ear. Leilani watches him and bites her lip—it seems Waylen is determined to be as cruel as possible.
“Honey, don’t marry him,” Andrew says, his voice light despite the obvious pain he’s suffering. “I’m your best choice, and as long as I’m still alive, I’ll fight for you.”
A bodyguard rushes into the room carrying a roll of tape. He peels off a silver strip and forces it over Andrew’s mouth. Andrew winks at Leilani again, and Waylen growls and pulls her toward the priest.
The bodyguard jabs the priest with the gun, and the man trembles and fumbles with the pages of his heavy bible and Leilani’s stomach churns. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, she thinks. This is the cruelest mockery of a wedding. I can’t do it.
“Are you nervous?” Waylen asks, his eyes searching her face.
“No, I’m not,” she says. “But I’m not marrying you.”
“Yes, you are,” he growls.
She shakes her head, “No, especially not like this. Not with a bleeding prisoner and a gun to the priest’s head. It’s sick, and I won’t do it.”
“Fine,” Waylen says, looking thoughtful. “We can do it another way. As long as you say you’re willing to marry me, we can have the wedding however you like.”
She shakes her head and says, “Waylen, I can’t marry—”
“I need you to promise me,” Leilani, he interrupts. “I need you to promise to marry me. Just say it.”
There’s a desperate fire in his eyes, and Leilani steps back, scared by the intensity of his gaze. He doesn’t look like he’ll listen to reason, and she doesn’t know what to say or how to make him stop.
Suddenly a loud roaring sound fills her ears, and the ground seems to shake beneath her. She stumbles forward and falls to the ground, hitting her head on the edge of the golden altar. She pushes herself up to her knees, but the sound is louder, and the church starts to fill with choking black smoke.
“There’s a bomb,” someone screams. “Someone is bombing the church.”
Leilani staggers to her feet. Through the smoky haze, she can see figures moving and running. She rubs her head and walks in the direction of the door, but someone grabs her arm. Then she’s being lifted off the ground and held against Waylen’s chest.
“Mr. Bamford, we have to go,” Robert screams.
Waylen stands still and asks, “Leilani, will you marry me?”
There’s another boom and then a loud shattering sound. Waylen throws her to the ground and presses his body on top of hers as shards of stained glass rain down around them. When she looks up at him, his face is streaked with blood.
“Will you marry me?” he asks again, wiping the blood from his face.
“Jesus, Waylen, I will,” she says. “I’ll marry you, and I’ll do whatever. Just get us out of here.”
“Mr. Bamford, the roof might collapse,” Robert shouts. “Hurry!”
Waylen pulls her to her feet and takes her in his arms again. Then he sprints through the church, her head jostling against his chest as he runs. The acrid smoke burns her eyes, and the church seems to shake and creak around them.
They burst through the door to chaos—reporters and bystanders are screaming and running in every direction. Waylen pushes through them all, carrying her as far from the church as possible. Over his shoulder, she sees the bright flare of another explosion, and then the church starts to collapse on itself. Smoke and dust mix in the air and bright red flames lick the rubble.
“Andrew’s still in there,” she says.
Waylen sighs and waves Robert over. “Send someone to search the rubble,” he says flatly. “And find out who did this.”
He carries Leilani to a waiting car and pulls her into the back seat. She tears her eyes away from the ruins of the church and looks at Waylen. There’s even more blood on his face, and she can only imagine how bad his back is. She looks around the backseat of the car, but can’t see an emergency kit anywhere.
“Leilani?” he asks.
“What?” she replies, distracted by her search for medical supplies.
“When will you marry me?” he asks.
“You’re unbelievable,” she mutters.
Giving up on the first aid kit, she reaches down and tears a strip of silk from the hem of her dress. She balls it up in her hands and tries to dab at the blood on his face. He grabs her hands and holds them in his lap.
“Give me an answer,” he says.
“Let it go, Waylen,” she says. “You’re injured, and now’s not the time to talk about this. At least let me tend to your wounds.”
“I’m fine,” he grimaces.
“No, you’re not,” she insists. “You’re covered in blood.”
“Just answer the question, Leilani,” he whispers.
“Fine,” she says. “After Charles gets his heart back and wakes up.”
Waylen nods with satisfaction, and lets go of Leilani’s arms. She dabs at the cuts on the side of his face, cleaning them as best she can with the silk from her dress. As soon as his forehead is clean, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her against his chest. She gazes up at his face and sees his eyes fill with fire. Something about his look makes her melt inside, and she relaxes against him.
His smell envelops her, and she closes her eyes. A moment later, they pop open. I want to believe he cares about me, but why didn’t he save me from the kidnappers? She thinks. She tries to pull away from him, but his arms grip her tighter. She looks at the bloodstained silk on the floor and bites her lip.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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