The Inconvenient Bride. Anne McAllister
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“I am not.” His expression went from appalled to offended.
“Then why—”
Finn redirected the umbrella tip away from Dominic’s midsection. “I don’t think that’s our business, Iz,” he said to his wife quietly.
“But—”
“You don’t have to worry about her,” Dominic said firmly. “I’m not going to beat her. I’m not going to mistreat her. I’m not going to tie her up and dye her hair brown. I’m just going to marry her.”
Izzy didn’t look happy—or convinced.
But before she could argue, the door to the judge’s chambers opened just then and a pointy-chinned woman looked down her nose and said, “His Honor will see you now.”
Dominic cast one more despairing glance at the assembled group and ushered them all in. He introduced himself, Finn and his wife, then drew Sierra forward.
His Honor took one look at her and his eyes bulged. His jaw flapped. His gaze went straight to Dominic. “I misunderstood. I thought when Harvey called, he said you wanted to get married…”
“I do.”
Sierra felt Dominic’s arm come around her as he hauled her close, just in case there was any question in the judge’s mind about who the intended bride was.
The judge’s eyebrows hiked halfway up his bald head. But at the sight of Dominic’s fingers tightening on her shoulder and his steely glare, His Honor nodded his head. “Very well. Come in.”
Dominic and Sierra went in. Trailing behind them were a pair of saucer-eyed red-headed twins, then Finn with Rip on his shoulders, and Izzy who carried a wriggling Crash.
The pointy-chinned woman let out an audible sigh, shut the door and left them to it.
The ceremony itself was an anticlimax.
The judge mumbled something about the power vested in him by the State of New York. Then he read lines out of a book.
Dominic repeated them.
Then the judge looked at Sierra and read more lines. She repeated them every time he paused and looked at her.
They were lines she’d heard a hundred times. Richer. Poorer. Sickness. Health. Nothing about obeying, thank God. She didn’t think she could ever obey anyone. Not even Dominic.
Especially not Dominic!
She slanted a glance at the man standing so stiffly beside her in his two-thousand-dollar tailored suit and his hand-made Italian shoes. She caught just a glimpse of the edge of his subdued gray-and-burgundy striped tie. It was the same tie…
“…till death do you part?”
Sierra jerked her mind away from his tie—the tie that had started it all. She gathered herself together, recollected the solemnity of the occasion and dutifully stared straight ahead. Behind her one of the twins sighed. Rip gave a little hop. Crash gurgled. Finn and Izzy sucked in their breaths.
The judge looked at her over the top of his glasses. She smiled back at him. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly.
Beside her, Dominic cleared his throat. She glanced over at him. He gave her a speaking look, the sort she was sure he gave underlings right before he put them through the paper shredder.
Sierra gave him one right back.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. His fingers strangled hers. He nudged her clunky boot with his polished black dress shoe. “Well, damn it, do you?” he muttered through his teeth.
Sierra blinked. “Do I what?”
“Take him for your lawful wedded husband, young lady?” the judge said impatiently.
Sierra suddenly realized they’d been waiting for her. “Oh!” she said, then gave them all a blinding smile. “Sure. Why not?”
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