He knew words came out of his mouth because eventually, the attendees clapped and he was told to kiss the bride.
He knew it had to be dramatic. He knew this was a photo op. He knew that Woolven Industries’ bottom line needed this to be good.
But mostly, none of that mattered because he got to kiss his mate.
He didn't bother with a chaste kiss, a sealing of their vows. No, he did what he was good at. Sweeping women off their feet.
He swept her up in his arms and kissed her like he was dying and she was the only one in the world who could save him.
The crowd gasped and she curled her fingers around his neck and into his hair. When he broke the kiss and the photographer's flashes died away, he eased her back to her feet and then she did the most perfect thing.
She flashed the crowd a shy smile. The smile of a woman who knew she was well-loved, and she waved.
Everyone clapped and he couldn't resist hoisting her up and again and making a mad dash with her down the aisle as a thunderous applause greeted them.
He took her straight to the staging room so they could both breathe before braving the greeting line outside.
"You were amazing."
"That whole stealing me away was pretty inspired. Every girl will wish she was me. You don't think Blake and Randi will be upset that we kind of upstaged them, do you?"
"Not at all. I'm the baby brother. This is part of my charm. Randi prefers not to be the center of attention, if you couldn't tell."
She nodded and pressed her lips together, as if she were trying to hold back something.
"What is it? What's on your mind?" He still hadn't put her down. He wasn't going to unless she made him.
"I was thinking about kissing you again."
He tried examining that from every which way, but he couldn't see why it was a bad thing. "Where's the problem? We're supposed to be blissfully happy newlyweds. Even to the other wolves."
"Yeah, you're right. But there's no one here now."
"So it's just a bonus." He dipped his head toward hers.
She met him halfway, and their mouths fused in a searing kiss. He was going to be walking around this reception with a serious hard on. He'd come to expect that was just life around Belle. Constant boner. There were worse things.
Like facing Maribella.
He hadn’t actually spoken with her about what had happened. She’d accepted her change in mates without complaint. She’d even told her father she was content with the arrangement. For all Parker knew, maybe she was.
But he still owed her an apology.
Well, he'd finally found his "boner killer."
The idea that he'd actually caused her pain didn't sit well with him.
"You ready for the reception?" he asked when they broke apart.
"Not really, but the sooner we get to it, the sooner it's over, right?"
"Right."
"Have you spoken with Maribella?"
"A few times. She's a little reserved, but nice."
"I need to speak to her. To apologize."
"You haven't done that yet? Are you kidding me? Correction. She's not just nice, she's a saint."
"Yeah, I know. It's just with everything that happened with Emmie, we've been a little busy."
"She understands, obviously. Do you really think your wedding is the best place to apologize?"
"Yeah." He grinned. "She can't murder me here, if she's mad."
Blake and Randi made their way into the room. "Ready to face the press?" Blake asked them.
"Why not?" Parker shrugged.
"Yeah, give them that bad boy grin." Belle shook her head, but she was smiling.
After they emerged to the greeting line, he could tell Belle and Randi were uncomfortable with all the cameras in their faces and he fielded most of the questions.
"Parker Woolven, now that you're married, what are you going to do next?" One of the reporters asked.
"What else would a brat prince do except take his princess to Disney World?" He flashed them another one of his grins, just as his beautiful mate had instructed.
"It was rumored you were engaged to be married to Maribella DeVaughn," another voice asked. All the reporters turned to the back of the crowd to see where the question had come from.
A man stood there, looking pale and hungry. His dark hair slicked back with too much product. His eyes were hollow and too large for his face. Belle tensed next to him.
"Maribella and I were introduced by our families," Parker began. "But once she met my uncle, I didn't have a chance."
"Warner Woolven you're not," the man agreed.
His devil-may-care casual persona didn't work on this man. His daggers were sharp and he had precision aim. Parker wouldn't let the stranger rattle him.
"Of course I'm not. I haven't told you to get off my lawn, yet."