Camden was still looking at me. He hadn’t once moved to glance out at the crowd beyond.
“What?” I asked.
He swept a loose curl off of my face. “There.”
I glared at him. “Don’t do that.”
“I can do what I like.”
Then he took my arm and pulled me into the onslaught. A smile bloomed on my face as rose petals and rice were thrown into the air. I laughed effortlessly as I mimicked pure joy at our departure. Before we crossed the final line, Camden drew me to a stop.
And before everyone, he lifted me off the ground and kissed me with abandon.
I threw my arms around him, kicking my feet up. I was hoping for the perfect shot, but somewhere in the middle, I was lost. He still held me. He still kissed me. My body crushed to his as I slowly slid down his front and back to my feet. His hands moved to my hair as he drew out the kiss, long and languid.
This was not a mere performance. This was … want. Carnal and base.
There were cheers and hollers from all assembled. Picture after picture was taken as he bent me backward and continued his perusal of my mouth. His tongue invading and taking and needing. And there was not a thing I could do about it.
Nothing but enjoy it.
A damn good kiss was a damn good kiss.
Finally—finally—he withdrew.
He tapped a kiss on my nose. “There.”
“What?” I gasped softly as something fluttered in my stomach.
“That’s how you deserve to be kissed.”
2
CAMDEN
For the first time in a long while, Katherine Van Pelt had no comeback.
Which was exactly how I had planned it.
“Come,” I told her.
I took her hand and drew her toward the limo. Cameras flashed all around us, and the limo driver opened the door for us. I stepped in first, and then Katherine sank into the seat next to me. She gathered the hundreds of layers of her dress and pulled them into the car after her. The wedding planner rushed over and helped her arrange it neatly. Then the door was shut, the window rolled down, and Katherine waved like she’d won fucking Miss America as we slowly pulled away.
“Roll up the window,” I said.
Katherine glared back at me, but she pressed the button to roll it back up.
And finally—finally—we were alone.
“Thank God that’s over,” Katherine said. She fiddled with her dress, arranging it this way and that.
“Indeed.”
I slipped my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my work email. My father was a right asshole, who never let up. Not even on my wedding day. He’d been there, sitting in the front row, and still, he’d sent me shit to deal with. Things that couldn’t wait. If I hadn’t been looking forward to our honeymoon before, I was now. A month in the Maldives with limited internet and no way my father could ruin every moment sounded like precisely what I needed.
“You’re really doing that right now?”
“Yes.”
“It’s our wedding day.” When I didn’t respond, Katherine rolled her eyes—a habit I intended to break promptly—and turned away from me. “I can’t wait to get out of this dress.”
“Now, that is something we can agree on.” I lifted my gaze to take her in.
She was mesmerizing. If there were ever a word for the woman I’d decided to tie my life to, it was that. Her looks beguiling. Her mind enthralling. Her authority spellbinding. She was a witch in every sense of the word, and she could make you fall in love with her as quickly as she could curse you.
“That isn’t what I meant,” she snapped. “The boning has been pinching me for the last hour.”
“Beauty is pain.”
“Obviously.” She turned away from me. “We should have gotten a hotel room.”
“I own an entire hotel chain,” I growled back at her.
“So? We could have stayed at The Plaza.”
“We’re not getting a hotel room when I have the penthouse on top of one.”
“Whatever. I wanted a suite.”
“You’ll have a suite in the Maldives.”
“That’s a villa,” she chirped, her lips curling upward. “I wanted something … extravagant.”
I set my phone down and then grasped her hand in mine. She tried to reel back, but I had her now. Her eyes widened slightly and then narrowed to slits.
“What are you doing?”
I pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm. “You’ve mistaken me for another man, wife.”
A kiss on her wrist.
“I have not.”
A kiss up her forearm to her elbow. I tugged her closer, sliding her across the backseat of the limo until she was nearly resting against me.
A kiss on her shoulder.
“Have I given you the impression that I care what you want?”
Her jaw clenched. If she could have killed me in that moment, she would have. Instead, she jerked her arm away from me.
“Charming.”
“We’re staying at the penthouse. In a few short days, we will be in a private villa in the Maldives for a month. You can have me all to yourself.”
Her face soured. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”
“I’m well aware,” I drawled and then returned to my phone.
Katherine glared at the contraption and then scooted back across the seat to stare out the window on the short drive. Well, it would have been a short drive if not for the typical New York City traffic at Christmas. It was usually a bit of a nightmare, but four days before Christmas, the entire thing was gridlock.
“At least I don’t have to pretend anymore,” she said sweetly.
“You don’t know how to do anything else.”
She scoffed. “That’s not true. I’m an authentic ice princess ninety percent of the time. It’s only when I have to pretend to be in love with you that the last ten percent is the hardest acting gig of my life.”
Oh, Katherine.
She always thought that she had the upper hand. That her blows would land. But I was impenetrable. After years of hearing the absolute worst from my father, a man who would rather let me suffer in a construction zone with asthma problems than admit he was wrong, she could never cut deep enough.
I glanced up from my phone, and my gaze was deadly. She didn’t shrink back, and it was half the reason I’d decided this would work. I wanted to break her. Cut down every inch of that perfect persona until she had nothing left to cling to. Body, mind, and soul, she would be mine.
My voice was low when I said, “Pretending to be nice has got to be harder.”
There was no reaction, save a tightening of her hand into a fist. She was the ice princess for a reason. She could, too, survive all manner of insult. Especially the ones that were true. Neither of us would ever be considered nice. Nothing so blasé as that. We were survivors. We were conquerors. And together, we were unstoppable.
She said nothing else as the limo finally pulled up in front of Percy Tower.
I’d moved into the penthouse at fourteen. Even at a young age, I had known exactly who I was. And that I needed out of my father’s house. My mother was long gone. His parade of new girlfriends and new wives had teetered past annoyance. This was home. It always had been.