Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (68 page)

Savannah smiled. “More than ever.”

“Hey, I’m not a girl!”

“Oh, sorry, José,” Angelina said. “You most certainly are not! You’re quite the gentleman. How would you like to hold the door for everyone?”

Puffing out his chest, he crossed the room and propped the door open with his body.

She couldn’t believe she was part of such a large extended family now, when for so long it had only been her and Mari. Well, Anita and Father Martine, too. Since she’d come here seeking refuge, they’d been her family.

Karla guided Mari to exit first, followed by Rosa who carried a simple but elegant bouquet of red roses and Angelina with the wine goblets. Savannah lifted the hem of her ivory satin gown and walked through the doorway only to find her field of vision filled by Adam in his dress blues, his cover tucked under an arm. He walked toward Karla, drawing her attention to his sword. To think, Savannah Gentry would be making her way through that archway in an hour or so and into the Marine Corps family.

Adam’s smile faded, making Savannah worry about Karla. While he spoke softly, his voice carried the short distance. “How are you doing, Kitten? I know this is a difficult day for you.”

Savannah had learned at breakfast this was the anniversary of her brother’s death, but Karla smiled bravely up at her solicitous husband.

“Stop worrying, Adam. I’m fine. I wouldn’t have missed this wedding for the world. You know what it took to get me here—you even had to buy us a new vehicle, not that we aren’t going to be needing it soon.” Her hand stroked her belly. “Besides, I’m replacing bad memories with good ones.”

Savannah hoped so. What an amazing woman to call her friend and now sister.

Adam bent to peck Karla on the cheek, his hand covering the one propped against her belly, and he whispered something in her ear that made Karla giggle. In her hand, she carried the ropelike double rosary for the
lazo
ceremony.

Adam grinned and turned his attention to Savannah. He gave her a huge smile. “You look beautiful, hon.”

She beamed at his words. Not so long ago, she’d have negated the praise in her mind or cringed at the thought of any man looking at her face or body in appreciation. Not on her wedding day. Today, she truly felt beautiful.

The dress was simple but elegant. She couldn’t see spending a thousand dollars on a wedding gown. Luckily she’d fallen in love with this ivory dress the moment she’d tried it on, and it had cost only a few hundred dollars for the
madrina
in her church family who had offered to sponsor her dress. The black-lace applique over the bodice and the single shoulder strap reminded her that, despite her dark past, she would now be united with Damián until death parted them.

But the location of the applique also reminded her of the Chinese dragon tat on Damián’s chest and over his shoulder. Dear lord, but she loved that tat, especially when he flexed his pec at her. Her face grew warm.

Finding her focus again, Savannah walked over to Angelina and noticed the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Savannah almost lost the shaky hold she had on her own emotions.

Angelina hugged her. “Sorry, I always cry at weddings.”

“I’m sure I’ll be shedding a few tears before the ceremony is over.” Savannah hadn’t been able to express emotion for so long. No way would she bottle up those feelings today. Savannah placed a kiss on Angelina’s cheek and whispered, “Marc will come around soon. I’ve already noticed a major change in his demeanor.”

Angelina nodded. “We’d better not keep that lucky man of
yours
waiting too long, though.”

Savannah had heard hints about the extremes Marc had gone to in a risk-aware scene at the club recently. She understood a person having trust issues, but could she ever give up her safeword or long list of limits the way Marc had? Damián promised to continue to whittle away at the list as he helped her face—and slay—her dragons. And her fears.

As the music slowed, Father Martine turned to Savannah and winked. “Ready, little one?”

She nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Father, for everything, including putting out the call to local Marine officers to form the arch after the ceremony.”

He nodded. “I wanted the best for the young girl I shepherded for so long. Your parish family will miss you.” She hated the thought of leaving her sanctuary, but she and Damián would find a new place to nurture their faith—in Denver.

Father Martine’s demeanor became serious again as he prepared himself.

The groomsmen lined up first—each in dress uniform. She’d asked all of her groomsmen to wear their military dress uniforms. Three branches of service were represented in the wedding party, and she was so proud to count so many honorable heroes as friends and protectors now.

Marc in his Navy whites was first. Just before he entered the church, he glanced back at Angelina. The smile he gave her would have melted gold. He carried hers and Damián’s precious wedding rings. This man had helped save her beloved’s life and would always hold a place of importance in their hearts.

Next went Damián’s friend and mentor Gunnar Larsen, his long blond hair pulled into a neatly combed queue reaching halfway down the back of his Army dress blues. With Gunnar’s imposing height and frame, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes, he had intimidated the hell out of Savannah when they’d first met at the man’s private dungeon a few hours west of Denver. But once she’d engaged him in conversation a few times, his respect and love for Damián helped her to warm up to him. Gunnar, as
Padrino de Arras
, carried two tulle bags of gold coins. She and Damián had adopted the new tradition of sharing the financial responsibility of supporting each other and their family.

Grant, a Marine like Damián, also wore her dress blues with her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Whether Grant considered herself the last of the
padrinos
or the first of the
madrinas
, Savannah wasn’t certain. Nor did she care, as long as Grant was here to make the family complete. As
Madrina/Padrina de Cojines
, she carried the embroidered velvet pillow Savannah and Damián would kneel on during part of the Mass.

Damián’s niece, Teresa, carried Savannah’s mother’s French prayer book and red-crystal rosary. If not for Teresa’s tragic rape, would Savannah ever have found Damián again? Moments ago, out of the corner of her eye, Savannah had spotted Teresa playing with Mari using her daughter’s ever-present sticker book. Savannah marveled at how the human psyche healed. At least Teresa had gone into therapy early, in part thanks to Damián, to help keep the negative and hurtful scripts at bay that might make life even more difficult and lonely for her later. Moving to Colorado this summer would give her a fresh start, too, away from insensitive people who didn’t understand and treated her differently since the news had come out.

Teresa’s mother Rosa stepped into line carrying a small bouquet of red roses. Savannah knew tradition called for presenting flowers to the Virgin of Guadalupe, but her mind and heart were set. This was her special day and Damián would approve when the time came.

Angelina carried two ornate glass wine goblets and blushed at Marc. Savannah wondered how much longer she would have to wait to start planning her own wedding. If only they would realize how perfect they were for each other! Still, Marc had been transformed recently by whatever had happened in the dungeon.

Karla joined the line next, carrying the double rosary
lazo
. Seeing her belly swollen with hers and Adam’s baby and a loving husband beside her in the journey toward motherhood gave Savannah a pang of regret for not having Damián in her life during her own pregnancy. But he had taken to being a daddy without batting an eye.

She couldn’t help but notice Karla’s eyes looked so sad at the moment. Savannah walked over to her and gave her a hug. “Thanks for being here for us on this day. You’re such a strong woman.”

“Thank you for asking me to be in your wedding. This is my first Hispanic wedding, and I love the symbolism. So beautiful and so much meaning. I’m so happy to have you in my family now.” Karla opened her arms and gave Savannah time to walk into them. Hugging was becoming easier all the time, especially since Karla had become a friend and a sister.

Right now, Karla most likely wanted to be off her feet. Savannah remembered those last weeks and how uncomfortable she was. Time to get this ceremony started before the woman collapsed.

“We’d better get started, Karla.”

Savannah turned to Anita who pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Savi…Savannah. Not sure I’ll get used to calling you that, but watching you walk down the aisle in a few minutes is going to be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since my own daughter married three years ago.”

Anita picked up two lit taper candles and took her place in the line where, in a moment, Damián would join her and escort her to her place of honor in the front of the church. As Savannah and Damián’s
Madrina de Velación
, she would continue to provide a guiding light to them throughout their married life.

José and Marisol were shown where to stand at the end of the procession, leaving space for Father Martine and the altar boys to precede them. Mari instructed her older cousin one last time on the proper way to hold the ring pillow. Poor José.

The organ began to play the processional and Adam patted Karla’s belly, as if she were a talisman, before he walked across the vestibule to stand beside Savannah. “I believe you wanted to remain hidden from Damián until you walk down the aisle. So now would be a good time for us to vamoose.”

Her heart pounded at the thought of seeing Damián standing so proudly in his uniform. She grinned and nodded before turning to re-enter her dressing room. Adam kept an eye on the progress of the wedding party through the cracked doorway.

Her bouquet lay on the table, and she picked it up. Tears formed in her eyes again as she thought about Maman and how much she would have wanted to be here today. In her heart, she knew Maman watched over her, but…

“Ready, hon?”

She lifted a tissue from the dispenser and dabbed at her eyes.

“So very ready.” She bit her lower lip. “I just hope I…I won’t be a disappointment to him.”

Adam laughed as he left his watch at the doorway and came toward her. “I can’t imagine anything you could do to wipe the smile I saw at breakfast off his face. He’s got quite the wedding night planned for you two.”

Savannah blushed. Barely a month ago, Adam’s sexual innuendo would have made her cringe, but the promise of having Damián make love to her tonight—and on a daily basis, if his promises were any indication—only made her long for him even more. She hoped she wouldn’t shut down on him, but if she did, Damián knew how to work through her triggers with patience and persistence. Now that she’d begun to embrace her inner Princess Slut—only for Damián—she looked forward to exploring even more of her long-dormant sexuality with him. There would be days when she couldn’t be the lover he deserved, but she’d always try her hardest to be the best wife she could.

As the opening strains of Pachelbel’s
Canon in D
began, tears came to Savannah’s eyes again. Thank goodness she’d left the mascara and eyeliner off today. The piece was her mother’s favorite and one way she could help ensure Maman’s presence. Savannah was even more certain now Maman would witness from heaven the marriage of her only daughter to the man of her dreams.

“I think he’s waiting for you, Savannah.”

Adam brushed away a tear with the pad of his thumb, and she smiled. “Not nearly as anxiously as I’ve waited for him. Please take me to join the other half of my heart.”

Adam smiled as he took the hand not holding her bouquet and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “Love to.”

As the two stepped through the doorway, her gaze zoomed immediately to Damián standing proudly in his Marine dress blues. Pride and love swelled inside her. So handsome.

Mine.

“Breathe, hon. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Adam took the first step forward, and she remembered how to place one foot in front of the other, holding on to the strong arm under her hand for fear of stumbling. Her eyes never left Damián’s as she inched closer to the man she’d spend the rest of her life with.

No fear. No doubts.

All mine.

Savannah couldn’t see Mari and José walking down the aisle in front of Father Martine, but a couple of giggles and
awwws
from the congregation made her certain they’d done something adorable. She couldn’t wait to see the video and photos later. A member of her church family was a photographer and offered to be her
padrino
of such today. She’d lost so many memories of good times past by shutting off her mind. Savannah hated the thought of losing a single wedding memory, but Damián had taught her so much about living in the moment that she didn’t think she would miss very much.

At the first pew, Adam stopped and Savannah nearly groaned at being kept from Damián’s side a moment longer.

Their love, tested by time and circumstance, was even stronger now, but she prayed they had many, many decades ahead to be together.

Father Martine asked, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

Adam’s booming voice clearly announced, “Anita and I do.” The two would serve as their godparents today and for the future, as they had done for so long to each of them individually in the past.

Adam turned to her and lifted her blusher veil. “Proud to have you join my family, Savannah,” he whispered. “We’ve all been waiting for you a long time.” He gave her a gentle hug, as if afraid to get tangled in her mantilla, before standing tall again.

Savannah had never known a father’s love before, but Adam had shown her in such a short time the powerful love he had for her and Damián.

She blinked to stop the flow of tears before realizing she had nothing to be ashamed of or any reason to hide them. She let them trail down her cheeks. Damián smiled his approval, and she melted inside before looking up at Adam. She motioned for him to bend closer to her and pressed a kiss on his evening-stubbled cheek. “Thank you, Ad…Dad.” She might as well get used to referring to him the way Damián did.