kindling. He held me tightly against him, his body hard against mine. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. Brooklyn let out an ear-piercing whistle, Munchkin started yapping, and people were applauding. It almost seemed as though Ford had been trying to prove something with that kiss, though I wasn’t sure what.
He took my hand and we made our way back down the aisle, now officially married. Our guests cheered, but as I passed Ford’s parents, I saw absolutely nothing in their expression to indicate they were celebrating this union. In fact, I would have bet anything that they were already counting down the days until I was gone so they could bring Claudia back into the fold.
Somehow, I made it through the rest of the festivities.
Like the ceremony, everything was perfect. Not that I could enjoy it. It was especially hard because I had to pretend two different things—to Ford, that I only had friendly feelings for him; to everyone else, that I was a blissful bride. It didn’t matter how many dances I danced, how many bites of lobster dipped in melted butter that I let Ford feed me, how beautiful our exotic orchid-covered Belgian chocolate cake was. I was purely going through the motions. The joy of the day couldn’t touch me.
All I wanted was for the day to be over, and I felt unbearably guilty about it. Tori and Brooklyn had put so much love into planning every little thing down to the last detail, and not only could I not enjoy it, I was actively wishing for it to end.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the reception started winding down. I was utterly exhausted from pretending. My face hurt from all the forced smiling. I just wanted to escape.
Unfortunately we were leaving for St. Barts in a couple of hours. Off on a honeymoon that I’d legitimately been looking forward to a couple of days ago. Before Ford’s parents had sprung their deal on me, I’d been hoping the time away from our real lives—away from the stresses of Danica Rose’s debt to the Bratva and Ford’s family obligations—might give my new faux husband a chance to realize that our fake marriage could potentially be something more.
Now, it just seemed like another fresh form of torture. The two of us, alone on a tropical island, sharing a luxurious suite at a romantic resort? How would I be able to survive it?
Hand in hand, Ford and I went up to our room to finish getting ready for the trip. His family’s private jet had been chartered to fly us from the Vineyard to the more accessible airport on the island of St. Martin, and from there we’d take a forty-minute ferry ride over to St. Barts. I’d read that the water could be choppy, so I was praying for smooth sailing.
As I packed up my suitcase, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was interested in finishing what he started on the dais, in front of our guests. But I couldn’t allow that to happen. There could be no sex tonight. I had to be strong.
Luggage zipped and ready to go, I stretched and yawned as dramatically as possible.
“I’m beat,” I told Ford drowsily. “I need to take a nap before we leave. The car’s picking us up in what, five hours?”
Then, before he could respond, I went into the bathroom to take a quick shower, locking the door behind me. It was cowardly, I knew that…but I also knew that if Ford kissed me like he had earlier, I wouldn’t be able to say no. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want him. It was that I wanted him too much.
And after an entire day of pretending, I knew that if he took me in his arms, I wouldn’t be able to keep it up.
Emzee
Chapter 2
At just over nine and a half square miles, St. Barts was definitely the tiniest tropical island I’d ever visited. I also suspected it might turn out to be the ritziest, considering that the French West Indies territory was referred to as the Hamptons of the Caribbean. But the minute I laid eyes on the picturesque, red-roofed capital city of Gustavia from the ferry, I was enchanted.
“Wow,” I murmured, not realizing I’d spoken out loud until Ford looked over.
It was the first time he’d torn his gaze from his phone since we’d gotten on the boat