“You should have stopped the marriage the moment you knew it was me,” she said, looking straight ahead.
“I had no idea you were my intended bride, not until I lifted the veil. The lawyers brought papers to me to sign and I signed them. I presume you did the same thing if you weren’t aware I was your husband until you saw me when you looked up.”
She turned her head to glare at him. “We aren’t married, and we aren’t going to be. To be married, you actually have to consummate the marriage. I did read the rules of the arrangement prior to signing it, didn’t you?”
He held her gaze deliberately. “I not only read them, I have your answers on the wall of the bedroom framed, laminated and underlined in red.”
This time the blush went from pink to a much deeper shade of red. Her breath hissed out between her teeth. “You always were far too sure of yourself.”
“I’ve always had good reason to be sure of myself, Brielle. I believe the kiss was a mutual exchange, not just one-sided.”
His sweet little bride lapsed into French with a string of curse words that cast aspersions on his lineage, clearly designed to make him lose his temper, but only made him want to kiss her again. She really was a beautiful little thing, and fiery as hell.
Elie leaned close, his lips against her ear. “I’ll have so much fun restraining all that passion until you’re screaming my name and begging me to let you come for me.” That bought him another flair of heat from her jeweled eyes and that unrestrained blush that he wanted to see covering her entire body.
She didn’t swear at him this time, only turned her head to stare straight ahead again, the color deepening to a dark rose and her breathing quickening to a ragged one of arousal. Her fingers nervously plucked at the skirt of her wedding dress. Elie wanted to ask her so many questions, but he remained silent. Brielle was clearly struggling, confused and horrified by her body’s reaction to him. He didn’t want to upset her more, not before the party.
It didn’t make sense that she was so opposed to their marriage, not when their chemistry was so off the charts. She had agreed to an arranged marriage because, like Elie, she must have believed they were meant to be together. She had made up her mind they wouldn’t be. That was why she was marrying what she thought was a complete stranger.
She had insisted on only marrying someone who was in the United States, just as he insisted his bride had to be willing to live in the United States. Brielle hadn’t known he lived there. She hadn’t kept up with him and that annoyed him. Seeing him, she had been more adamant than ever that she wasn’t going to marry him. Why?
That nervous plucking at her dress was going to drive him insane. He couldn’t help himself. Elie placed his much larger hand over hers to still her fingers. He didn’t look at her expression, but he did close his fingers around hers to warn her not to fight him. Beside him, Brielle tensed, but she didn’t attempt to pull her hand away. She did something amazing to his heart each time he touched her, or even looked at her, let alone breathed her in. Spending so much time with Stefano Ferraro these last few years had been good for him when it came to understanding relationships, but it had also honed him into a man willing to protect his loved ones at any cost. He realized he had an emotional connection to Brielle as well as a physical one. Perhaps it was all the time he spent on thinking about her, wishing he hadn’t screwed up and wondering why she wouldn’t give him a second chance.
The limousine pulled up to the entrance of the Ferraro, the luxury hotel owned by the Ferraro family. The door was opened and Elie slid out and held out his hand to Brielle. She hesitated. He waited, knowing she was gathering her courage. She had a great deal of pride and it wasn’t as if she wanted to be pried out of the limousine and carried in over his shoulder. She would be terrified he might just do that—which he would.
“I’ll get you through this and then you can present your case to Stefano,” he assured, speaking low. “He’s a fair man and will hear you out.” He didn’t tell her he had no intention of allowing her out of the marriage and would block every argument she presented.
Elie had dozens of questions he wanted answered in front of Stefano, because Stefano really was fair. He was also head of the riders in Chicago and Brielle fell under his leadership now. She had no choice but to obey him. Riders adhered to a very strict order of rules and there was no way around them, not unless Brielle wanted to be banished from the entire worldwide society of shadow riders in all capacities.
Brielle placed her hand in his and stepped out of the limousine, allowing him to pull her close to him. Elie wasn’t too surprised to see Emilio Gallo there, accompanied by Elie’s two dedicated bodyguards and two others he didn’t recognize. Emilio, as head bodyguard for the Ferraro family, had insisted that not only would Elie be guarded as all riders were, but his bride as well. Emilio had assigned two brothers to him three years earlier and he had gotten used to their presence. Like all riders, he didn’t have to like it, but he tolerated it because it was mandatory. The two personal bodyguards, Ruggero and Lorenzo Forni, were quiet, alert and trained personally by Emilio. The newcomers, two young men, Elie didn’t know, which would have made him very unhappy, except that Emilio’s presence meant he personally vouched for them.
Elie, when he’d first gotten out of the military, had applied to be a bodyguard. He had thought to stop being a rider for the Archambault family. He’d been forced to disclose his background to Emilio. Once Emilio turned the information over to Stefano, Stefano asked him to become a rider for Chicago. That was how he had made his way into the Ferraro family. He knew from firsthand experience that neither Emilio nor Stefano tolerated slackers in any of their businesses.
The four bodyguards closed around Elie and Brielle as they walked up to the doors of the hotel.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to allow for you to interview the new bodyguards for your bride, Elie. We can do that when she’s had a few days to settle in. She can sit in on the interview as well.” Emilio attempted a smile, which didn’t quite make it to his dark eyes. He was a very serious man as a rule, although quite capable of joking with those he felt very comfortable with. It was clear he knew someone had put out a contract on Elie’s life. Emilio would take that very seriously.
“Thanks, Emilio. This is Brielle. Brielle, Emilio, the Ferraro family head of security. Any order he gives, we all obey. Even Stefano.”
Emilio uttered a low sound that could have been either a throat clearing or a growl. Elie shot him a quick glance of reprimand. He was trying to get it across to his new wife that certain rules had to be obeyed, and one was having bodyguards. If she had recently really become a rider, then she had only just had them assigned to her, but more than likely, she wasn’t used to them and would ignore her need for them.
Brielle seemed very independent. Much more so than he ever thought possible. The woman answering questions hadn’t seemed quite so stubborn or liberated. She stated that respect was extremely important, but she had no problems following when her partner led if he was a righteous leader. Her behavior, so far, didn’t quite mesh with the answers she had sworn were truthful ones.
Brielle offered Emilio a tentative smile. “Stefano didn’t seem a man who takes to orders easily. For that matter, Elie doesn’t, either. If you’re able to get either one of them to do what you need them to if their lives are in danger, you must be really good at your job.” Her tone implied that Elie might be stubborn just to have his way in the face of death.
Emilio shot Elie an amused look over her head as he reached to open the door to the private conference room where the party was being held. “When their lives are in danger, not if,” he corrected.
Brielle nearly stopped walking, but Elie put a hand on her back to keep her moving. He glared at Emilio.
“What do you mean, when? Riders get in and get out. We’re never seen. Why would Elie ever be in danger?” Clearly the idea of Elie being in danger wasn’t something she’d considered and she didn’t like it.
There was a short silence. Brielle tipped her head back, her startling green eyes meeting Elie’s. “Elie?” There was a little note of demand in her voice, one that he couldn’t help but like. There was also fear for him. He liked that even more.
“Everyone is waiting on us,” he hedged. “We can go into this when we’re alone, ma chérie.”
She looked as if she might argue with him but then she turned to look at the group of people waiting to greet them and she instantly subsided. The bodyguards moved away from them, deeming it safe in the room filled with members of the Ferraro family. Brielle actually moved closer to him, coming under his shoulder, so that he slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her into the heat of his body as he walked her across the room, once again trying to imagine what it must be like for her not to know a single person.
“Most everyone is a Ferraro or related by marriage,” he whispered, hoping to ease some of her trepidation.