Tried for Love (TSATD)

Chapter 23

Gabriel

  People cry at weddings. I suppose it is the vows that often bring women to tears. The thought of spending the rest of their lives with that person beside them. At times, possibly the groom too. For my wedding however.. My predictions had been simple.

  I always considered that when I married— if I ever did, it definitely wouldn't be tears of joy filling my eyes. Because I had sworn, many years back, that I wouldn't ever take a bride of my own. Such commitment was simply unnecessary.

  The circumstances that I found myself stuck with, however, promised a slightly different future. Jon Tallo was breathing down my neck with every move I made.. A man that was an enemy not only to me, but to many.

  To my luck, I had the daughter of his closest, and possibly only ally, underneath my roof, under my protection and no other. Leah St. Clair. Going under a new identity for her own safety as a Rowe. And now— Well, now she was a Valentine.

  That had been my salvation. The vow I had once considered a curse was now my path to not only escaping Tallo's revenge, but to greater success.

  A vow I had made that tensed, loud night in the lake house in France, when I rushed after Paul Rowe's niece and swore I would make sure she made it to Paris safe and sound.

  After his death, I was stuck with that vow.. And now— Now I had Leah St. Clair, or at that point, the new Mrs. Valentine, right beside me as we walked back down the aisle. Her hand tucked around my arm, steps steady, and yet—

  I grinned. Yet it had been seconds since I had made her hold her breath for that kiss.. A kiss that was nothing even close to steady, or calmed, or sensible in any way. Nothing about 'You may kiss your bride' had been sober nor stabilized.

  So, no, I didn't cry at my own wedding. I did something worse. I lost control. Thinking I had a solid grip over the strings of my senses, I had allowed myself closeness and that— Oh, that had been a big mistake.

  The brute that I was, I had pawed over my wife like a man gone mad, taking her lips in front of everyone present, as if I was claiming her as my own. Yes, I had predicted many scenarios of how that ceremony could go wrong, but a havoc of my restraint hadn't been in any of them. And man, did it take me as a surprise..

  It seemed that some primitive need had gripped my senses.. Left little sanity in this selfish head of mine and urged me to claim this woman I was to call mine. Declare her as my wife for everyone to see. And after that kiss— Oh, I'm certain they understood my intention all too well.

  But it hadn't been only that. With a slight tuck, I pressed her well at my side. No, possessiveness hadn't been my only reason.

  It was this harsh burning in my chest that pressed me to do it.. This heavy lump that formed in my throat from seeing her hurt. Absurd. Absolutely bizarre. How could I, in whatever state my mind was in, ever allow myself weakness?

  But I had. Her hurt had proved to be my weakness. The second she took that knife in her hand, to fulfill that dumb union ritual, did I have the need to snatch it away from her and put it as far from her reach as possible.. Seeing the blood on her palm only made it all worse.

  I pushed back the grunt of worry that rose in my throat. "How's your hand?" To all my unawareness, I surprised myself from my own question.

  "Good." I felt her eyes on me.. And I didn't dare look back. "You didn't have to do that. Not in front of everyone."

  Every marriage in the circles of the Mafia was sealed by the union tradition. The whole point was to be in front of everyone present.. Witnesses that would confirm the marriage valid.