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‘What?’
He’d stopped too, the burning look that he’d given her back in the church in his eyes once again. ‘We will not be going to Italy. I’ve decided we’ll be going to Jamaica instead.’
Elena stood there in the bright sunlight, the crystals in her wedding gown glittering, her veil fluttering out behind her like a flag, her eyes dark and smoky. Her golden hair was in a beautiful arrangement on top of her head, all soft curls and threaded through with wildflowers. There were lilies in her hand and on the other hand glowed his father’s ring. His wedding band was there too, the wedding band she’d designed.
She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.
Your wife. She’s your wife now.
Being here on Kalifos, where he’d grown up, had triggered memories he didn’t want, memories he’d been trying to escape. He’d been plagued by them the past week, and even up until last night all he’d been able to think about were all the moments his brother had missed, all the firsts Dorian would never have. He’d never marry, for example. He’d never get to see his bride standing in the sun, sparkling like a fall of stardust.
It should have been you who died and it should be him standing here now, looking at Elena.
It should, but it wasn’t, and normally that would feel like a knife sliding directly into his heart. Yet all he felt now was a savage satisfaction that it wasn’t Dorian standing here, looking at Elena. That it was him instead.
You don’t deserve this.
No, of course he didn’t. But he wasn’t going to turn away from it either and he’d realised that the moment the music had started and the church doors had opened, and Elena had appeared, glowing like an angel fallen to earth.
He’d spent all night trying and failing to forget about the discussion they’d had about Dorian. Trying and failing to forget about the understanding he’d seen in her eyes and how she’d told him that his father had been too hard on him. How she’d seemed to know about the anger that lived in his heart. The anger at himself that he couldn’t seem to outrun.
He’d never known what to do with that anger except bury it so far down he forgot it was there, and he didn’t know what to do with her understanding either. It felt dangerous, though he couldn’t have said why, so he’d spent the entire morning as he’d prepared for their wedding battling to find his usual detachment, his usual focus, pushing all the thoughts of the past to one side.
Until she’d walked down the aisle towards him. And he’d realised that all his attempts at detachment, his burying of the tragedy of Dorian’s death, were useless. He couldn’t outrun the past or the memories. He couldn’t bury those terrible, painful emotions, just as he couldn’t bury or outrun his intense desire for her.
She made it impossible. Because right from the first moment he’d seen her, she’d brought all his bitter emotions to the surface. She’d brought them out into the open and then she’d eased them.
She was his hope. That was why he’d rescued her from the rubble and given her to his father to look after. That was why he’d started Eleos. That was why millions of people now had better lives and it was all because of her.
She was his hope for the future, his hope of redemption. His hope of healing. She’d given him that pin and now she was giving him herself, and he knew he couldn’t refuse her.
He hadn’t given much thought to what form their marriage would take, half thinking that he’d live in Jamaica while she lived on Kalifos, and every six months or so he’d visit her to conceive the children his father had specified. There had been no stipulation, after all, that they were to live as husband and wife.
But as she’d walked down the aisle to him in that church and the realisation had hit him of what she was to him, of what she represented, he’d changed his mind. They would live together as husband and wife, and he’d be her husband in all ways. He’d be a father to her children. He’d give her the family she’d always wanted.
Love was still out of the question, but he could make her happy without it, he was sure. No, he would make her happy. She was the hope he clung to and, because of that, he couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t. There would be no hope at all if he did.
They’d need to discuss where they’d live, naturally, since he didn’t want to be on Kalifos, but perhaps she’d like his island in Jamaica. Or perhaps they’d find somewhere else. Either way, she was his now.
She’d changed his life all those years ago, and now she was changing it again. She was giving him back the hope he’d lost and he couldn’t turn away from it, not again.
She’s more than just a representation of hope. She’s also a woman with her own dreams and needs.
Well, of course she was, and he’d treat her as such. He wasn’t that much of a monster.
‘Jamaica?’ she repeated blankly.
Of course, Jamaica for the honeymoon. It made sense. He wanted to bring her back to the island that meant something to him. He’d kept himself alone and apart from people for so long, but he didn’t need to with her. She already knew the worst parts of him and he was done with hiding them.
‘Italy is beautiful,’ he said. ‘But my island is home to me. More of a home than Kalifos. And I’d like to show it to you, spend some time with you there.’
The shock vanished from her face, her brown eyes glowing. ‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, as if she couldn’t think of anything better. ‘Yes, I’d love to go in that case.’
Satisfaction gripped him, along with a rush of intense desire at the obvious delight on her face. He’d expected her to argue about the sudden change of plans, not look thrilled at the thought of returning to a place she’d already been. ‘Good. It’s a bit of a trek, so I’ve organised for us to leave tomorrow. Tonight, though...’ he gripped her hand, pulling her gently but firmly close ‘...it’s our wedding night and I want to make sure it’s one you won’t forget.’
Colour swept through her cheeks, which he found adorable. It made him bend to kiss her, a light brush of his lips against hers that only incited him further. Impatient, he stepped back and turned, pulling her along with him up the path to the villa.
As they reached the entrance, he swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold, and he knew she loved the gesture, because her eyes sparkled and she smiled, her head back against his shoulder.
