His Stolen Bride (Chicago Sons) Read Free

might behave like Manfred.
    “He’s very close to them,” said Hadley.
    He was watching her intently again, and for a split second Crista wondered if he could read her thoughts.
    “He’s talking about buying an apartment in New York City.” She liked the idea of putting some distance between Vern and his family. He loved them dearly, but she couldn’t see spending every Sunday evening at the mansion the way Vern seemed to like.
    “I’ll believe that when it happens,” said Hadley.
    But Crista knew it was already decided. “It’s so I can expand the business,” she elaborated.
    “Are you having second thoughts?” asked Hadley.
    “No.” She turned to face him. She wasn’t. “What makes you say that? What makes you ask that?”
    “Maybe I want you for myself.”
    “Very funny.”
    He hesitated for a moment then gave an unconcerned shrug. “I’m not sure I’d marry into this family.”
    “Too bad you’re already in this family.”
    He looked her straight in the eyes. “So, you’re sure?”
    “I’m sure. I love him, Hadley. And he loves me. Everything else will work itself out around that.”
    He gave a nod of acquiescence. “Okay. If I can’t get you to call off the wedding, then I’m here to tell you the limos have arrived.”
    “It’s time?” The flutter in her stomach turned into a spasm.
    It was perfectly normal, she told herself. She was about to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people, including her future in-laws and a who’s who list of notable Chicagoans. She’d be a fool to be calm under these circumstances.
    “You just turned pale,” said Hadley.
    “I told you, I’m afraid of tripping halfway down the aisle.”
    “You want me to walk you?”
    “That’s not how we rehearsed it.”
    Crista’s father was in prison, and she didn’t have a close male relative to escort her down the aisle. And in this day and age, it seemed ridiculous to scramble for a figurehead to “give her away” to Vern. She was walking down the aisle alone, and she was perfectly fine with that.
    “I could still do it,” said Hadley.
    “No, you can’t. You need to stand up front with Vern. Otherwise the numbers will be off, more bridesmaids than groomsmen. Dolores would faint dead away.”
    Hadley straightened the sleeves of his tux. “You got that right.”
    Crista pictured her six bridesmaids at the front of the cathedral in their one-shoulder crisscross aqua dresses. Their bouquets would be plum and white, smaller versions of the dramatic rose-and-peony creation Delores had ordered for Crista. It was going to be heavy, but Delores had said with a congregation that large, people needed to see it from a distance. They could probably see it from Mars.
    “The flowers are here?” asked Crista, half hoping they hadn’t arrived so she wouldn’t have to lug the monstrosity around.
    “Yes. They’re looking for you downstairs to get some pictures before you leave.”
    “It’s time,” said Crista, bracing herself.
    “It’s not too late,” said Hadley. “We can make a break for it through the rose garden.”
    “You need to shut up.”
    He grinned. “Shutting up now.”
    Crista was getting married today. It might have happened fast. The ceremony might be huge. And her new family might be overwhelming. But all she had to do was put one foot in front of the other, say, “I do,” and smile in all the right places.
    By tonight, she’d be Mrs. Vern Gerhard. By this time tomorrow, she’d be off on a Mediterranean honeymoon. A posh private jet would take them to a sleek private yacht for a vacation in keeping with the stature of the Gerhard family.
    Hadley offered her his arm, and she took it, feeling a sudden need to hang on tight.
    “I’ll see you at the church,” he said.
    She could do this. She would do this. There was no downside. Any woman would be thrilled by such a complete and total change in her lifestyle.
    * * *
    Dressed in a crisp tuxedo, freshly shaved, his short hair