Page 5 of Saving Forever
“Thank you.”
Serena gives me a big hug and she looks into my eyes questioningly. “You okay?” she whispers.
“No, but I will be.” What else can I say?
Viktor takes my hand again, and we pose and smile as our friends take a bunch of pictures.
This was all planned in advance and done by design. There aren’t a lot of people here, but they know the situation. That’s why they’re taking pictures they plan to post online over the next couple of hours.
I can’t believe I’m formally, legally married.
To a veritable stranger.
A shy, handsome stranger who needs me just as much as I need him.
Well, I need his money. One million up front, another million at the end of a year. Then hopefully we can both get on with our lives.
We walk outside hand in hand, and there’s still a chill in the early morning air. The sun is shining, though, and it’s a beautiful day in Las Vegas. The perfect day to get married. Even if it’s not a love match.
I’m so lost in thought it catches me off-guard when a group of reporters swarm around us, and I stumble. Luckily, Viktor is holding my hand and able to steady me before I fall.
Fuck.
It never occurred to me that the press would figure out where and when we were going to elope, much less wait outside for us.
“Viktor, why did you elope in the middle of the playoffs?”
“Who’s your new wife, Viktor?”
“Viktor, is she pregnant?”
The questions come loud and fast and I shrink against him, unsure what to do. To my surprise, Viktor immediately pushes me behind him and plants his feet.
“Stop.” His voice is low but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination—they need to back the fuck off. “We were just married…you are scaring my wife.”
I see a trace of apology on a few of their faces, but others press forward anyway.
“Will you make a statement, Viktor?”
“I will not.” He shakes his head. “Please move.”
He squeezes my hand tighter, and thankfully, our friends have our back.
“Come on, guys.” West McGregor can be a force of nature when he wants to be. “They just got married. How would you feel if you came out of your wedding and got slammed by reporters? Especially reporters firing one question after another in your second language.” He puts himself between us and the reporters.
“Come on, Viktor—just a statement!” someone yells.
“We are in love,” he says, voice more of a growl. “That’s it.”
“Is she pregnant?” someone repeats.
I feel myself bristle. What kind of bullshit question is that?!
“I am not.” I step forward, though I still lean into his side. “We just wanted to get married without any fuss. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Who are you?”
“What’s your name?”
