“Of course. Is everything all right?”
Max beamed at Mr. Benz. “Yes, but I believe there is one small matter with which you could assist.”
“Certainly. Unless I’m summoned, and again, please don’t hesitate to do so, I’ll be back before the cars are scheduled to arrive.” Mr. Benz left, Max smiling after him.
Verene patted Dani’s arm. “All done, dear.”
Dani hitched up her skirt so she wouldn’t trip as she stepped off the pedestal she’d been standing on for alterations. Without her even seeing him arrive—last she knew, Max had been on the other side of the room making strange faces at Mr. Benz’s back—Max was there with a hand.
He helped her down, which wasn’t unusual, but the fact that he did so without looking at her was. Max was solicitous. She’d gotten used to it and no longer even felt, much less indulged, the impulse to shut him down when he offered help. But usually a hand extended in a situation like this would come with a wink or a smile, or at least eye contact.
The other part that was unusual? She was shaking like a leaf. Not because of wedding nerves, but because of him. And it wasn’t just the generic “sex feelings.” It was a visceral wanting that was startling in both its intensity and suddenness. He was only touching her lightly with his hand, but it felt like he was touching her all over.
As soon as she was down, he let go.
Maybe he did remember her vow. Maybe it had popped into his head as suddenly as it had into hers, and now that he had it in mind he was actively not looking at her.
And if that was the case, why was she disappointed?
When the cars came to collect them, Dani went in one with Leo and Gabby, and Max got in another with Marie.
Thank god. Max couldn’t even look at Dani, which was an unsettling turn of events. Normally looking at Dani was one of life’s little pleasures.
But, oh, god, he was so screwed.
Something had happened to him when he’d walked into the room earlier and laid eyes on her. She’d been wearing a simple, white, body-hugging dress with a drapey neckline.
Max was not the kind of person who believed in visions, or fate, or any of that. But looking at Dani standing there in that white dress, her hair done up in an elaborate braided updo, he underwent some sort of . . . moment, a record skip in his chest, where he saw himself at a different wedding.
He had a moment when he thought, Mine.
And then the text from the lawyer, as if fate were a real thing, as if it had decided to favor him for once.
After the record in his chest stopped skipping, he’d ordered himself to calm down. It wasn’t as if he actually believed any of the stuff they’d joked about. She wasn’t going to jump the first man she saw. It wasn’t as if her marital status had truly been holding her back. It had merely been an excuse.
But, oh, how he wanted her to jump the first man she saw, and oh, how he wanted to be that man.
Which was one thing. That part wasn’t surprising. That part wasn’t new.
But the part that had to do with the real reason she’d been holding back: she was worried about her heart getting involved once she finally did the deed. She was worried about her heart getting broken.
Max wanted to be that man, too. To be the one to whom she gave her heart.
If Dani gave him her heart, he wouldn’t break it. He would actively do everything in his power to not break it. No matter what it cost him. If he could have that vision, her in a white dress, her eyes finding him automatically in a room full of people, he would do anything.
Dear god.
“Well, this is it,” Marie said.
He wrenched his thoughts from the fact that his entire world, the foundation on which he’d built his self-image, had crumbled.
“Is everything all right?” Marie laid her hand on his arm as the car pulled up in front of the small chapel on the palace grounds where the ceremony was taking place.
Marie deserved his attention. His problem with Dani—and it was a problem, because there was no way she would ever let herself be with him, not in the way he wanted—wasn’t going anywhere. He could tell Marie about it, but not today. Today was hers.
“Everything is grand.” He patted her hand that was on his arm. “You’re getting married, and not to me! I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“I’m getting married, and not to you!” she echoed incredulously. “I’m getting married to Leo!” She grinned as if she could not believe her good fortune. They held hands and looked at each other for a long moment, neither of them needing to say more than that.
“Max. Good to see you.” King Emil was waiting outside the chapel, and Max dipped his head. Max reached back into the car to help Marie out, but Verene, who had arrived ahead of them, pushed him aside and began consulting with Marie regarding dress extraction strategy. “I had a lovely luncheon with your parents and brother today,” the king added.
Max made a noncommittal noise. His parents had arrived this morning, but he’d managed to avoid them thanks to his man of honor duties. He was hoping to lean on those duties, and on the plan he and Lavinia had cooked up, to continue avoiding them all day. Especially once his father started officially hitting the bar. He only had to get through a few more hours. He was leaving for Innsbruck in the morning. With Dani. Who he currently could not look at for fear of combusting. Or crying. Or both. But that was another problem to be dealt with later.
Another car pulled up. It would be Leo and Gabby and Dani, which was Max’s cue to leave. He stuck his head into Marie’s car and whispered, “Break a leg, my friend.” She made a kissing gesture at him, and he hightailed it into the church. They had decided that despite the gender-swapped best woman and man of honor designations, they would hew to more traditional roles for the ceremony, which meant Max would join Leo at the front of the chapel and Dani, along with flower girl Gabby, would process behind Marie.
He still didn’t want to see Dani. Well, he wanted to. But he couldn’t.
Not that he could avoid it. After a few moments, a string quartet began playing, and Marie and her father appeared at the head of the aisle. Marie’s dress didn’t have a train, but Dani smoothed the back of her knee-length veil as she set off. Dani smiled at Gabby, and the two of them started walking.
Oh dear god. The record skipping in his chest had been replaced by an anvil. It was hard to breathe.
Dani spent the first few steps of her procession looking at the back of Marie’s dress, probably to make sure everything was in order. When she started to lift her gaze, he knew somehow that her eyes would find his first.
He looked away before they did, forced himself to keep his eyes on Marie, who was looking very princessey in a dress with a huge, poufy tulle skirt.
He tracked Marie’s progress down the aisle, staying with his strategy of not looking at Dani. He needed to not miss his best friend’s wedding.
And he needed to stop staring at what he could never have.
Chapter Eighteen
Where the hell was Max?
Dani looked around the ballroom. She was seated at a head table on a raised dais, so she had a bird’s-eye view with which to confirm that the answer was nowhere. She had survived the wedding—it had been lovely, but she’d been nervous—and now all that remained of wedding-party duties were the toasts. Which, as she eyed the dwindling receiving line Marie and Leo were helming, were supposed to happen soon.