The car Burton had arranged to collect her and to take her to the church would be here any minute now. After one final check in the mirror, she turned away. Her father was in his chair in the sitting room, staring out the window. She bent before him and took his limp hands in hers. Hands that had supported her as a baby and held hers as she’d balanced on walls and jumped waves at the beach. Hands that had saved so many lives over so many years. Hands that had taken one.
“It will be all right, Dad. I don’t want you to worry anymore. It’s all going to work itself out.” She leaned forward and kissed him, gently squeezing his hands in reassurance before repeating, “Like I just told Mum, everything is going to be okay.”
The words continued to echo like a mantra, over and over in her mind, as the car took her to the cathedral from where, only seven weeks ago, she’d fled. From where Raif had rescued her. Would he get here in time to do it again? She had to believe he would. She just had to, because the alternative was not worth considering.
As the driver opened her door and offered her a hand to help her alight, she caught a glimpse of the crystal encrusted satin pumps she wore. Perhaps running shoes would have been a better choice, she thought cynically. But then, she had no more need to run. Not with Raif at her back.
She ascended the stairs to the cathedral and was greeted by the priest, who took a few minutes with her.
“Is everything okay today, my dear?” he asked, concern drawing his bushy white brows together. “You’re certain about this?”
She nodded, unable to enunciate the words that he sought from her. It would be a lie if she said she was sure. She had never been more uncertain about anything. With every second that ticked past she came that much closer to having to go through with marrying Burton.
“Shall we start?” she asked, with as much of a smile as she could muster.
“Certainly. I’ll bring Burton out to you.”
“B-Burton?”
“Yes, he said that given what happened last time, he wanted to escort you in himself. No need for nerves this time around.”
The priest opened the door and made a small gesture with his hand. Shanal was forced to swallow against the bitter taste in her mouth as Burton joined her. As soon as they were alone his eyes swept her from head to toe.
“You look beautiful,” he said, as if that was all that mattered. And to him, it probably was. “Are you ready?”
She inclined her head and Burton took her hand and placed it on his forearm.
“Good, we look perfect together. I so look forward to dancing with you at our reception.”
With any luck there would be no reception, she thought fervently. Music began inside the church and she and Burton started to walk down the aisle. She was surprised at the number of people there. She’d asked for this wedding to be simpler and smaller, but she’d left those details to Burton to arrange, and clearly he’d chosen to ignore her preferences. Anyway, she supposed that none of it mattered anymore. Burton had never taken her wishes into account before, so it shouldn’t surprise her that he wouldn’t have over this. The sight of so many friends and colleagues made her all the more uncomfortable in the overdone confection of fabric and diamantes that he’d insisted she wear again. But, she made a mental reminder, she would stand here today as herself, not as Burton Roger’s puppet bride. At least she wouldn’t be if Raif got here in time. Where was he?
She scanned the many faces turned to them as they walked down the aisle, searching for Raif’s dark head, his square shoulders. He was nowhere to be seen. Fear tightened its screws on her already tightly strung nerves. He wasn’t going to make it!
At the altar the priest gave a brief welcome before launching into the service.
“We are gathered here today...” he began, with a wink at the bride and groom before him.
Struck by a near overwhelming sense of déjà vu, Shanal flung a frightened look toward the door. Still no sign of Raif. Firm, almost painful pressure on her hands made her look up into Burton’s eyes, where the hard gleam of satisfaction reflected back at her. He was getting what he wanted and she could do nothing to stop it. The feeling of powerlessness was terrifying, but nowhere near as frightening as the cruel smile that curved Burton’s lips.
How had she ever thought that marrying him would be a good idea? How had she allowed him to gain so much control over her? She knew all too well that the fault lay with her. She’d gone into this with two objectives: her parents’ financial security and the head research position at Burton International. She hadn’t ever believed she could lose her soul in exchange for those things. She should have known better than to try and strike a deal with the devil.