ck's Cathedral was absolute, heavy enough t

y eyes betrayed the turbulent emotions beneath. He didn't answer Clara immediately. Instead, his gaz

tension with practiced authority. "Clear the room," she instructed her chief assist

cavernous cathedral was emptied of the gawking crowd, leavin

He opened his mouth to stammer something, but his wife, Sharon, y

lara. At six-foot-two, he was an imposing figure. The shadow he cast com

e. "Do you have any idea what you are saying, Miss Beau

exactly what I am saying, Mr. Carlisle. I am

media won't report that Aidan Carlisle is a coward. They will report that Clara Beaumont is

ret, rather than a cheap, humiliating scandal,

yes. In the face of absolute ruin, this girl wasn

ical sound. "Covering up one

lows both families to walk away from this disaster looking stronger and more untouchable. The publ

both Julian and Eleanor i

need romance, Mr. Carlisle. I don't even need a real marriage. Wha

u need a wife to quell this storm, and to permanently end the public's rel

o stem from severe psychological trauma inflicted by a brutal war years ago-a form of PTSD. If it we

arp enough to impale her on the spot. The

st, but she held her ground. Sh

adlock. She stepped between them and took C

hild," Eleanor said, her

makes a valid point. Under the cir

ar raged within him. For years, he had used his empire and his coldness as a shield against any intimate enta

ale, the kind a man makes before signi

in

The dust

g. She turned to the altar. "Father, please

jaw practically unhinged, sc

ne began to recede, she realized her back was dren

riefest, most surrea

ed wife, the billionaire paused for one agonizingly long sec

he said, "I do," without a

e her-and slid it onto Clara's finger himself. It was slightly too large, sitting loose on her

and and wife," the priest

tion to kiss the bri

ce, side by side, having just become the mo