By Virtue I Fall (Sins of the Fathers #3)(80)

The vendor had asked me “If I felt the dress.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. It was pretty and would make people admire me. But was I overwhelmed by feelings when I put it on?

No. Not that I’d expected it. This wedding wasn’t about emotions, and I’d long given up hope that it could be.

Santino and I never talked about the wedding gown or the wedding. Since our last argument, we’d ignored the matter altogether, but even our sexual encounters had become few and far between. This felt like a drawn-out break-up that was hurting us both.





I went to my last appointment in the store alone. This was my second to last fitting, and I just didn’t feel like sharing it with Mom or anyone else. I hated when everyone looked at my face and expected to see something that wouldn’t be there.

Santino waited in the front of the store. The fitting took place in a separate changing room in the back.

When the vendor had helped me put the dress on, I asked her to leave me for a bit. I couldn’t stand her constant chattering. I knew she meant well, and would probably be just what an excited, happy bride needed but I wanted quiet.

I stared at myself in the mirror in the changing room. The seamstress had done a marvelous job. The dress fit me perfectly. I smoothed my fingers over the corset part. I tried to imagine myself going down the aisle toward Clifford that day, but my mind always changed the man waiting at the front to Santino. I hated my brain for playing with me like that.

I could hear heavy steps.

The door swung open and Santino stepped into the changing room. He and I both froze. His eyes took me in from head to toe.

“You’re not supposed to see me,” I snapped as he closed the door behind his back, closing us in.

He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “I’m not the bridegroom.”

“Right.” I shrugged. My throat became tight. A feeling I wanted to get rid as soon as possible. “Still. I want this to be a surprise for everyone on my wedding day.”

His eyes consumed me in a way that made me feel impossibly hot. “You look beautiful but you should have designed your dress. You’re far too talented to wear someone else’s design.”

Surprise washed over me. This was the nicest thing Santino had said to me in weeks and it hit me right in the feels. I was still self-conscious about my fashion designs, especially something as important as a wedding dress.

“It would have taken too much time. And I don’t think Clifford would have noticed the difference.”

He leaned against the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I would. Your designs always have a special touch. Sophisticated sexiness.”

I let out a laugh. “Sophisticated sexiness? I never thought the day would come that my brooding, sarcastic bodyguard talks like that.”

“I never thought the day would come that you’d pick out the dress for your wedding to Cliffy.”

Silence spread between us like a suffocating layer of ash after a volcano eruption. “Why not?” My voice was strangely tight.

His gaze seemed to undress me. My own eyes traveled over his muscled chest. My body erupted with goose bumps and a familiar heat gathered between my legs. I focused on my body’s reaction to him, desperately trying to ignore my heart. I desired Santino. Desire was easy to handle. Easy to satisfy. So much easier than a heart’s longing.

I didn’t want to want Santino. He’d been meant as a way to have fun before marriage. An uncomplicated and safe way to enjoy myself.

And damn had I enjoyed myself.

Santino gave me a slow, confident smile that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was the smile that always made me weak in the knees and annoyed me endlessly at the same time. Only Santino could do that.

“Do you want a few last orgasms before you’ll have to experience mediocre coitus with Cliffy?”

His words stung, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it. Maybe he was pissed that I was marrying Clifford. But I’d never lied to him. He’d known the rules of our bond from the start. Or maybe it was his way of coping with this impossible situation that was taking a toll on both of us.

“You would really fuck another man’s bride in her wedding dress?”

Santino pushed away from the door and stalked toward me. My insides tightened with desire at the fire in his eyes. “I’ve done far worse, Cheri.”

Santino’s French was still horrid and I knew he kept it that way to annoy me. “I don’t doubt it.”

He stopped right in front of me and stared down at me. He reached beneath my short dress hem until he found my panties. I’d asked the seamstress to shorten the dress in the front a bit to make it a bit more individual, now it gave Santino better access.

I clamped up. “Santino, I need to wear these panties on my wedding day.”

His smile became sinfully challenging. “And you don’t want poor Cliffy to pull down panties that your lust for me has tainted before? Give them a good wash. He won’t know.”

I glared.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t insult Cliffy like that.”

“If it were up to you, you’d put a bullet in his head.”

“If it were up to me,” he murmured as he got down on one knee. He grabbed my panties and slowly pulled them down, his eyes daring me to say stop.