Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Chapter 42.

Zane’s POV

From the wedding>>>>>>>>>

I don’t turn around when the music starts.

I already know it’s her.

Even my bestman straightens beside me, like he senses something coming down the aisle that matters.

Still, I don’t look.

I wait.

I hear her footsteps, slow and measured.

Then I turn.

And for a moment, my mind goes completely blank.

Elaine isn’t just wearing the dress, the dress is holding on to her for dear life.

It fits her like it was made with hands that knew her body intimately. The curve of her waist. The slope of her shoulders. The way her hips move when she walks. White shouldn’t look like that on anyone. Soft, clean and dangerous all at once.

My chest tightens in a way I don’t lik.

She looks so fucking unreal, so delicate and fragile. She looks beautiful, like she’s an angel that fell from the sky. Now I know, I know that I shouldn’t be here ogling my enemies kid sister but damn does she look edible in that drez. Her hair is pulled back just enough to expose her long slender neck, that long line of skin that makes something tent down in my pants, lucky for me my suit covers the bulge but if anyone were to bend down and look at me they would be getting so much more than they bargained for . Her face looks calm, too calm. That’s what gets me. She’s holding herself together with sheer will, eyes fixed ahead like she refuses to give this moment anything more than that..

Lucas is walking her down. Of course he is.

His hand is too close to her back. His posture is too protective. It irritates me more than it should, even though he’s her brother and I have no right as to who touches her or not despite the fact she’ll be my wife in a few minutes.

She doesn’t look at me until she’s close. When she does, it’s brief.

Good. I don’t need any form of softness from her.

But I notice things anyway

The way her fingers curl and uncurl at her side. The way her breathing stutters when the room goes quiet. The way her eyes glaze slightly during the officiant’s opening words, like she’s not really here anymore.

She’s zoning out.

That surprises me.

I expected fury, defiance maybe even fear. Not this distant calm, like she’s stepped outside herself just to survive the moment.

When Lucas places her hand in mine, his grip lingers a second too long. A warning for sure.

I ignore him.

Her hand is warm and so much smaller than mine, she’s tense too, her pulse jumps under my thumb.

She smells clean and floral, something subtle and I take in an air full of breath to get more of her scent.

She doesn’t look at me when I speak the vows. She stares straight ahead, lips moving automatically, voice steady but hollow. Like she’s repeating lines she memorized without believing in any of them.

I watch her anyway.

I watch the muscle jump in her jaw when the word wife is said. I watch her swallow hard. I watch her shoulders lift on a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

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