The Unwanted Attraction (#1) (Preview)

Chapter 7

D-day

Nella sat quietly, staring at nothing in particular—just to avoid the uncomfortable feeling she had—as her hair was being pulled at all directions by the makeup artists that her mother had hired for the wedding. She was not allowed to see herself in the mirror unless the whole look was done.

Should she be dying of anticipation?

It was her wedding, which was decided weeks before. Well technically, it had been decided many years earlier, but she was told about it just barely a month previously.

Where has all the time gone? I'm only twenty-one, for f*ck's sake!

She really felt blue and out of her element.

"Ornelia," her father's voice brought her out of her trance.

"You are a sight to behold, my sweet girl. When did you grow up? I still remember clearly it was as if only yesterday you were throwing a tantrum for an ice cream, and now you are getting married. I just wish the circumstances were different. I just wish this was an occasion of joy. I can't bring myself to look at you without thinking I have failed you as a father."

He was proud of her but not of himself. Tears were glistening in his eyes, but he held himself together. He needed to be strong for his daughter and his wife.

With a heavy heart, she took his father's hand, and they stepped out of the room, making their way toward the aisle where her soon-to-be husband was waiting for her.

* * *

"Why am I doing this again?" Max asked his best friend, Ethan, who was busy looking at women, selecting his next target.

"So that you could settle down as what your grandfather wished and get that inheritance. Not that you need more money, but come on, more money has never hurt anyone, right?" It came out more like a question than an answer.

Max shot Ethan a glare and turned his face toward the doors as the priest announced that the bride had arrived. He loved Ethan to death. Ethan and him had been joined at the hip since at a very young age, when his father had decided , at least not as important as his job. His mother's presence was also bare minimal.

Maximus had always been much closer to his grandparents than his own parents. He'd spent most of his childhood with them, playing in their backyard. Ethan was their neighbor living with his aunt and uncle. His parents had died in an accident.

Maximus first met him at a playdate when he was four years old, when the boy had thrown a ball his way, while everyone else had avoided him for being from the King family. His father's reputation wasn't that great, and his grandfather was quite a grouchy old man.

It was safe to say Ethan Mars was now the only family he had and trusted.

"Let's go, old man. Time to go get married." Ethan patted Maximus's back to rush him.

"I am literally the same age as you, only two months older."

Well, all be damned, he sure felt old at twenty-nine.

As the doors opened, for a moment he felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe. His soon-to-be wife—that was her—looked beautiful in her strapless white gown that showed off the gentle curves and contours of her body perfectly.

Gone was the little girl. She looked like an angel on Earth that God had sent just for him. Her soft brown hair was tied atop her head in an elegant updo. She wore no heavy jewelry, just a small pearl necklace and a pair of pearl studs.

Maximus's friends and business associates gazed at her, in awe of her; even women seemed to fall into a trance by her presence as she walked—no—glided down the aisle toward him.

Such a beauty, and she was going to be his wife, his to cherish, his to spoil. She would be all his, alone.

He snapped back to reality and chastised himself for having such thoughts about her.

Mr. Dawson placed Ornelia's hand in his. She turned to her father and gave him a quick kiss on his right cheek before turning to Maximus.

He was handsome. There was no doubt in that. There he stood in his coal-black dress suit, his demeanor—cool and calm—while she was a nervous wreck.

The priest started the wedding ceremony, "Dearly beloved, today we have gathered in this holy matrimony . . ."

That was all she heard before she got lost in her train of thoughts. She snapped out of her daze when the priest asked, "Do you, Ornelia Marie Dawson, hereby take Maximus Anthony King as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Somehow the two words didn't seem to find their way on her tongue.

She took a few calming moments to herself, then finally . . . she said, "I do."

"By the power vested in me by the Lord, I now announce you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The last sentence had Ornelia's mind in a frenzy of negative thoughts.

How can he possibly kiss me? We don't know each other. What if his breath smells? What if my breath smells?

Before her thoughts went any further, she felt a pair of soft lips crash on hers.

Ornelia was too shocked to respond at first.

Instinctively she stepped back, and so did he. Then he took her hand in his and waved to all the people once more.

From the corner of his eye, Maximus saw his wife blushing profusely. A smile threatened to form on his lips, but he had to control himself. He could not let a woman rule his life and ruin it. Whoever was going to try would be put in their right place, even if it was his wife.

He would make no exceptions. He would make sure of that, this coming night.