Chapter 2: Be My Bride

Evelyn's Point of View

"Ah!"

I bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, searching the room in a panic. The familiar shapes of my bedroom slowly steadied me.

A dream?

A steamy dream?

I touched my cheek. It was burning. The shiver his calloused fingertips had left on my skin still lingered, so vivid and yet so unreal.

"Why would I dream something like that?" I smacked myself lightly on the forehead. "Evelyn Hart, you're getting married. If you're going to fantasize about a man, it should at least be your own fiancé."

I picked up my phone and lit the screen. A handsome face smiled back at me, warm enough to melt anyone's heart, his eyes full of gentleness.

Julian Ashford, tomorrow is our wedding. Tomorrow, I become your bride.

****

The stretch limousine carried me through the city in a billowing white wedding gown, a long line of bridal cars trailing behind us, racing toward the venue.

Suddenly, the car braked hard.

I lurched forward and braced myself against the seat. "What happened?"

"Two cars collided up ahead and they're blocking the road," our family driver answered. "I'll go see what's going on. Don't worry, Miss Hart. We have plenty of time before we're due."

I watched him walk toward the wreck until a cluster of onlookers hid him from view.

A few minutes passed. I fiddled with my bouquet and checked my phone. Then the driver’s door opened and he slid back into the seat.

“All sorted, Miss. They’re moving the cars now.”

I glanced up at the rearview mirror. Something about him seemed off. His cap was pulled lower than usual, and he kept his face angled away from me. Mr. Cole had driven for our family since I was twelve, and he always had a joke or a grumble about traffic. This man said nothing more.

“Mr. Cole? Are you all right?”

“Fine, Miss.” The voice was a little rougher than I remembered. “Just the nerves of a big day.”

He’s probably as stressed as I am. I shrugged it off and turned back to the window. It was my wedding day, and I was seeing ghosts in every shadow.

The damaged cars were dragged to the roadside, and the bridal car pulled away again.

The hotel where the wedding was to be held came into view. Nervously, I smoothed my gown, and my heart dropped. A long tear ran through the hem. It must have happened during that sudden stop.

The wedding was minutes away, and my gown was ruined.

I called Julian at once. "Julian, something happened on the road and my dress is torn."

"Are you hurt?" His voice was full of concern, soothing my panic.

"I'm fine, but we're almost at the hotel. What do I do?" I was sweating from sheer worry.

"Don't worry. Leave it to me." Julian's smile came through the phone, as gentle as the refined, gentlemanly face I knew so well. "All you have to do is wait to be my bride."

"Mm," I answered sweetly.

As I was fidgeting, the car stopped. Nonetheless, it was a different entrance of the hotel. A wedding planner was already waiting and hurried me toward a private room to change into a traditional bridal gown.

Did Julian change something?

I had a lot of questions but it was addressed because of these people helping me dress.

The red silk skirt was embroidered with a phoenix in fine gold thread, spreading its wings. Red jade and carnelian formed its body, and deep-sea black pearls were set as its eyes. It looked alive, as if it might soar into the heavens, a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

For a moment I felt a flicker of doubt. I had never seen this gown before.

Then the red veil came down over my face, and all I could see were the swaying tassels at its four corners.

A tall, strong hand closed around mine and held it firmly. My small hand disappeared completely inside his, and my heart gave a tremble.

The man in the crimson groom's attire led me forward with care, a faint, barely visible smile curving his lips.