Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

Will I be cornering him by showing him Dad’s ring?

But I promised Dad I’d ask. How can I ignore that, especially when Charles himself is asking about the ring?

“I…I might have something.” I bring the golden band forward. “This is my dad’s. He gave it to me yesterday. You can say no. I just promised him I’d ask you.”

He looks between the ring and me for several seconds, his expression unreadable and stoic. My heart is almost in my throat, and I’m about to demand that Charles show some emotion so I can guess what he’s thinking.

“It’ll do,” he says. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get some real work done. We’re breaking ground on Vincent’s showroom construction this afternoon, so make sure everything goes without a hitch. Don’t forget your duties here, wife.”

15

OH, SWEETHEART

CHARLES

A week later, I’m dressed in a tux, standing under a wooden arch covered with white daisies and silky satin, my cousins behind me. My hands itch to tug on the white bow tie that suffocates the hell out of me, but I’m enduring it only because of the smiling faces of my family sitting in the first row.

All the women, including Daisy’s three best friends and bridesmaids, are dressed in pastel pink. GG is rocking a matching feather cap and can’t stop beaming. Even Grandma Irene’s smile seems to be wider today. It’s for them that I’m tolerating the crowd.

The guest list for today’s party is longer than Mt. Everest. Everyone who’s someone in this town is invited. Jimmy has even handpicked a few reporters who will get the inside scoop on the event. So, yeah, I have to act like the best fucking doting husband who is head over heels for his bride. This is a wedding for show, after all.

I’m stunned, a grimace on my lips when the music changes.

The white curtain lifts, and instantly, I feel a zip in my chest as Daisy walks in holding her father’s hand. She’s dressed in an ivory princess-style wedding gown. The off-shoulder frills rest on her breasts. It’s modest for the most part, but the hint of her cleavage teases me today. The embroidered top fits her perfectly before flaring at her waist in a tulle skirt.

I’ve always been very careful with my thoughts when it comes to my assistant, because I worry how far and how fast that sequence will spiral. But once Daisy signed those papers, it was like my mind got a free ticket—or maybe a signed ticket—to think about her.

And God, do I think about her.

I thought of her running away from Cherrywood in a horse-drawn carriage, wearing a bridal dress with more features than a swan.

I thought of her saying I don’t instead of I do in front of all the guests.

The human mind works in strange ways, and I guess in stranger ways when we’re stressed.

But my mind and imagination were wrong about everything, including her running away and her dress.

She is the most beautiful bride to ever walk down the aisle, and I’m the luckiest man who gets to go home with her.

Her cheeks are flushed as she inches closer, which I can see thanks to the absence of a veil. My sister forced Daisy to swap it for a tiara with diamonds that match her engagement ring.

The same ring she chose as a reminder of what this wedding means, a time-bound transaction, has gained lots of attention from everyone—the media and our families. Mom and Chloe can’t stop gushing about it and the fact that none of them knew I was such a romantic at heart.

Jason has told me more than a few times how Daisy’s mom would have loved me for caring about her every small happiness. How the man, on the verge of losing his memory, keeps bringing his dead wife up in every conversation is beyond me.

A noose of guilt tightens around my neck when Daisy and her father stop a few steps away from me. Jason kisses his daughter’s cheeks before placing her hand in mine. I’ve touched my assistant’s hands several times in the past, but I’ve never felt the weight of it in my chest like today. The minister continues in a calm voice while my heartbeat skyrockets. I only hope Daisy remains unaware of the betraying organ.

The minister starts but his words are like the buzzing sound of a bee in my ears. I’m too distracted to focus on anything or anyone except Daisy. Until Ray, standing behind me along with my cousins as my best men taps my shoulder.

“The man asked you something, Charlie,” Ray whispers in an overly polite tone.

Fuck, my cousins won’t let this moment go.

“Do you, Charles Hawthorne, take Daisy Price as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

My bride lifts her gaze, and her hand trembles in mine as I hold it tightly in my grasp.