And when it was through, the crowd cheered, and Olive put one arm in the air, and laughed, and he knew that the photos that were being taken made it look for all the world like she was a joyous bride.
There would be interviews, and they would do them. They had already agreed. It was not his favorite thing to do, but Olive was a PR machine, and she wanted to give a story, though they had told all media outlets that they would not be speaking until after the wedding, since they would be far too busy preparing to devote any time to media.
It had been true, more or less.
For all that they were doing this wedding, they were still bound to each other. And in the meantime, he was in the process of making sure that the acquisition of Ambient remained legal, and did not in fact violate antitrust laws. But it was beginning to disquiet his spirit.
He had wanted revenge on her, or so he’d told himself.
He was beginning to wonder if what he’d really wanted was her.
And now there was a farcical reception to get through, and what he wanted was to be alone with her.
What he wanted was to claim her.
That echoed through his body with ever increasing insistence as they socialized, ate cake and pretended to be amused by the shocked commentary of their guests regarding the change in their relationship.
But what it really was, was a slow burn. A smolder, a promise of what was to come.
He had a surprise for her.
Because what he had wanted, truly, was an opportunity to have her alone. To have her to himself.
They would be going back to Iceland.
And they would be spending three days in his bed, doing nothing else. He had meals prepared, and very few clothes. He would get this intense need for her out of his system. And then, things would go back to the way they had been. Because this meant nothing to him, this wedding, the first wedding he had ever been to, which happened to be his own. And she meant nothing to him. It was easy to feel a sense of affection for Olive, but that was part of who she was.
She engendered that response in everybody, he could see it here.
That she also brought it out in him was not a surprise.
And when it was done, the private jet was waiting, and he picked her up, and carried her aboard.
She was his wife now.
And suddenly, it felt altogether different.
When they arrived at the house in Iceland, everything had been positioned just so. And the table was set with a romantic dinner for the two of them.
“This is beautiful,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed.
He had not noticed until she had turned away from him at the wedding, but her gown had no back.
The torment of all that bare skin when he’d had to behave himself had been... It had been impossible.
What was it about her that bewitched him so?
She was brilliant, he knew that. But he had never felt compelled to take lovers that matched his mind.
For they filled a space in his bed, and nothing more. He did not need to make conversation with them. They existed only to slake generalized lust that he felt. But the desire that Olive created in him was specific.
And it was more than sex. It was tangled up with hearth smoke and warmth, and it made him want to push it away. Made him want to deny it. But she was having his child, and perhaps that was it.
A child.
And he was bringing that child into a union that he enforced.