Chapter One

It was going to take a miracle to save her.

Delaney Daniels tightened her grip on the bouquet of red roses as she ever-so-slowly made her way down the narrow aisle. Each tiny step made her feel as if she was walking straight to her doom because…she was.

Her groom waited about ten feet away. Handsome. Tall. Immaculate in his tux. His smile was warm and tender, and he utterly terrified her.

A few of the rose petals from her bouquet fell onto the white aisle runner beneath her high-heeled feet. The petals fell because her fingers shook so badly. Not like she could help the shaking. She was way too afraid. No way she could control herself.

A sweet little lady with wire-framed glasses played the organ. The church contained only a handful of people. It was supposed to be charming. Romantic.

It was not. It was horrifying. Gut-wrenching.

Her white high heels minced forward. I am moving as slowly as I possibly can. Still searching for a miracle. Still looking for some desperate way out of this nightmare.

The priest beamed at her. His right hand held the Bible, and his left hand motioned for her to come forward.

Oh, had she stopped advancing? And had she perhaps shaken her head in a no response to him?

She had.

Her groom—Kurt Henry Wellington, the third—lost a bit of his smile. His handsome face stopped looking quite so charming and became slightly more cruel.

I believed the lie right in front of me. Until it had been too late. Until she’d discovered the truth. Until she’d wanted to run away.

But there was no running from some people in this world. Kurt Henry Wellington was one of those individuals. A very, very dangerous individual. The man who wanted to marry her. The man who’d claimed to love her.

The man who would kill her as soon as the ceremony was over and he had her alone with him. Her honeymoon truly would be from hell.

“Darling?” Kurt’s warm, deep voice.

She hated his voice. The care in it was a complete lie. Just like everything else about Kurt. Lie, lie, lie. But there was nowhere for her to go. The heavy satin of her dress trapped her. The train sliding behind her felt like a chain dragging her down. Down straight to her grave.

Kurt strode toward her. That charming grin flashed again. The grin wasn’t for her benefit. It had to be for the few people watching. Strangers to her. Their ties were to Kurt, their allegiance to Kurt, not to her.

“Darling…” Kurt said the endearment again, and Delaney could not help but flinch. He’d eliminated the distance between them. Now, he stood right in front of her. He reached out and took one of her hands away from the quivering bouquet.

More rose petals trembled and fell. One rose petal landed on her dress, looking so very much like a blood drop that a shudder worked along her entire body. Hello, foreshadowing.

“You need to walk toward the priest,” Kurt directed. “Now.”

No, she needed to run for the exit.

But even if she got to the exit, there was nowhere for her to go. She had no car to make her escape. Kurt would catch her before she got more than steps away from the church. He’d hurt her. He’d make her come back.

“Delaney.” A warning note had entered his voice.

She smiled at him. Did it look like a tender, loving smile? Or a go-to-hell grin? And did it even matter? Voice low, husky, Delaney told him, “Go screw yourself.”

His grip tightened on her hand.

She sucked in a quick breath because his grip was painful. She could practically feel the bones in her hand rubbing together.

“That’s no way to talk to the man who loves you.”

Only he didn’t really love her. He couldn’t. He’d just been using her all along. And this whole stupid setup at the church was a farce that would end in her death. What was she supposed to do? Go happily to her grave? Did he think she would just docilely accept her fate?

“Walk down the aisle,” Kurt ordered her. “Say ‘I do’ and then this will all be over for you.”

Unfortunately, it would. Because as soon as he got her out of that church and away from the others, Delaney knew she’d be dead.

Instead of walking down the aisle, she instinctively took a step back.

He hauled her close. To the others, it probably looked as if he was pulling her close in some sort of heated embrace. “I cannot wait…” Kurt began loudly. Then his head lowered and his lips feathered over her left ear as he finished, “To have you all to myself.”

She felt something sharp stab into her side. As in, literally, a stab.

Delaney sucked in a breath.

Not a deep stab. A cut that had pierced her skin. A promise that more pain would come if she didn’t follow his commands.

“That’s a knife,” he informed her. As if she had not already figured out that obvious fact. His lips brushed across her ear again. “Let’s get the show moving, now.”

He wasn’t going to kill her right there. Not with the priest watching. At least, she didn’t think that Kurt would kill her there.

“There are other people I can hurt,” he whispered to her. “Do you want me to take out the people you care about?”

There weren’t a lot of people on her list. That was one of the reasons why she’d been such easy pickings for him. Her parents were dead. No siblings or other close relatives. But she did have a few friends⁠—

“I can make a phone call, and people will die.”

She wet her lips. “I can’t wait…to say ‘I do’ and spend the rest of my life…” That super short life. “With you.” You lying asshole. You sadistic creep. You⁠—

“Wonderful.” He moved to her side. Kept the knife pressed against her, but he’d positioned her bouquet higher so that the roses hid the weapon.

The little lady playing the organ had stopped. But when Kurt nodded toward her, she began playing The Wedding March again. And Delaney began walking.

Her breath shuddered in and out. Her heart drummed far too fast in her chest.

When she’d been a teenager, she’d dreamed about her wedding. Even sketched out a dress that she’d love to wear. She’d wanted to carry daisies, not roses, and she’d wanted to be on a beach, with the waves crashing into the shore. She’d also wanted…

To marry a different man.

She and Kurt were directly in front of the priest. The knife still pressed into her side. A warning and a promise at the same time.

“Let’s speed this along,” Kurt urged as he sent an indulgent smile her way. “My bride is getting jittery.”

Jittery. Oh, the lying ass. His bride was trying to figure out if she could be fast enough to swipe the knife and plunge it into his neck. His chest. Anywhere. His bride wanted to get stabby on him.

“Most brides do get nervous.” A sympathetic nod from the priest. The overhead light gleamed off his bald head. “No need to fear.”

Oh, there was literally every single need under the sun for her to fear the man beside her.

“This is the happiest day of your life,” the priest added.

Nope. He was wrong on that count.

Her heart drummed faster because she had to find a way out of this nightmare. There had to be a way to escape. Something…

A loud and angry rumble—like a fierce growl—pierced the air just as the organist ended The Wedding March.

Delaney’s head whipped toward the growl.

“Ignore it,” Kurt ordered. “Just some idiot outside.”

An idiot with a growling engine. One that seemed to be coming closer. Such a loud, powerful growl.

The priest cleared his throat. “Before me, I have two loving individuals⁠—”

“How about we jump to the vows?” Kurt cut through the priest’s words. “That good with you? Getting right to them?”

The priest frowned.

The growling was so strong now that Delaney could have sworn that the walls of the church were shaking.

“Uh…well…” The priest squinted at Kurt. “You’re in a rush?”

The growling stopped. Just died away.

Kurt seemed to relax. “Can’t wait to marry the love of my life.”

Right. Sure. He said those words while he had a knife pressed to her side.

“Besides, like I told you, Delaney is jittery. Don’t want her to suffer unnecessarily so let’s hurry things along.”

Miracle. I need a miracle. It would be fantastic if that miracle could come at any moment.

The priest asked, “Does anyone object to the marriage?”

“Yes,” Delaney said, quite clearly and quite loudly, unable to hold herself back. I object. He’s a monster. I have to get out of here. I can’t marry him. I won’t.

“Why in the hell would you ask that question?” Kurt snarled at the priest, his voice cracking over Delaney’s.

“I…” The priest had a trickle of sweat running down his left temple. “It’s normal to ask, part of the ceremony. I-I ask if there is anyone who objects to the marriage and then when there is no objection, we go to the vows and⁠—”

“I object.” Deep, dark, dangerous. A voice that pierced straight to Delaney’s heart.

At that booming voice, both Delaney and Kurt whirled toward the front of the little church. The doors had been yanked open, and a big, muscled, and glaring man in a black leather jacket stood with his legs braced apart and his strong hands fisted at his sides.

Fury hardened his handsome face. Rage charged his body. He looked deadly and scary and⁠—

Like my miracle.

“Who the hell are you?” Kurt shouted.

“I’m the man stealing your bride.” He stalked forward. Dark hair tousled. Faint stubble on his rock-hard jaw.

Kurt had let her go. When they’d both turned in surprise, he’d let her go and the knife wasn’t pressing into her side, and this was her chance.

She grabbed for her dress’s train, and Delaney surged for the powerful man charging toward her. But she didn’t get far because Kurt grabbed her arm and hauled her back against him.

“What in the hell did you do?” Kurt gritted out.

She’d called a friend and begged for help. That help had just arrived.

Though I didn’t necessarily count on the help arriving in the form of my ex. The big, bad, glaring badass storming toward her was Nash Quinn. The man who’d once owned her heart. Only to toss it away.

But beggars definitely couldn’t be choosers. If her ex was her miracle, she’d take him in a heartbeat. Nash was there to save her ass, and she was running out with him.

As for Kurt…

“I’m not marrying you.” She had a way out of this nightmare now. A muscled, beautiful, dangerous way out in the form of the furious man storming so quickly toward her and Kurt. Safety. “Get your hands off me.”

Kurt shook his head. “I will kill you,” he rasped, for her ears alone, “before I let you go to⁠—”

“Hey, jerkoff, remove your hands from her.”

But her hero didn’t wait for Kurt to comply. Instead…

“Duck, Delaney. Now,” her hero ordered.

She ducked. Nash’s powerful fist swung out, and it slammed into Kurt’s jaw. Kurt stumbled back, and then he fell toward the floor. He crashed. Hard.

The priest gasped. The lady at the organ nearly fell off her wooden bench. And the men and two women in the pews—people connected to Kurt—froze.

“The wedding is off,” Delaney told Kurt. The tall ceilings in the church made her angry words echo around her. She yanked off her engagement ring and tossed it toward Kurt. The ring and the bouquet. The rose petals fluttered in the air.

“Is that a knife?” Her hero had just noticed the knife on the floor. It had fallen when Kurt took the punch to the face.

No time for an explanation about the knife. The guests were shaking from their stupor, coming close, and she was sure some of them were armed because a few of those guys weren’t friends of Kurt’s. They were more like his evil henchmen.

“We have to get out of here, now.” She grabbed for Nash’s arm.

Once upon a time, Nash had been the star of her teenage fantasies. Technically, he was still the man who made far too many appearances in her adult dreams. The man who…

When she’d had those long-ago visions of a beach wedding, he’d been the groom in her daydreams.

Then, unfortunately, he’d gone on to utterly break and destroy her heart. After the breakup that had left her sobbing into her favorite chocolate ice cream, she’d planned to never, ever see him again. But, desperate times could call for some extremely desperate measures. She’d needed help. Her options had been limited. She’d had to text for emergency assistance and there had only been time to send out a cry for help to⁠—

“Uh, Delaney?” Nash’s deep, dark voice slid over her. Through her. “Is that creep in the front pew reaching for a gun?”

Yes, yes, he was.

Nash didn’t wait for her to respond. He attacked the creep in the front pew. Nash drove his right fist at his target even as his left hand snatched the gun away and sent it hurtling beneath some pews.

The priest and organist ran.

As for Delaney⁠—

Nash spun back toward her. “You coming with me?”

Uh, yes. “A thousand times, yes.”

He grabbed her, tossed her over his shoulder, and hauled ass for the door. The train trailed over her head, falling over her upside-down self, and she fought to shove it out of her way. When she finally did get the satin and lace out of her way, she saw Kurt being helped to his feet. A groggy Kurt.

He staggered and pointed at her. “No!” Kurt shook his head. Almost fell again. “Delaney!” He lunged toward her.

But Nash was carrying her out of the open church doors. Fresh air hit her, and a wide smile curved her lips. Nash had gotten her out. Away from Kurt. She was bouncing along Nash’s broad shoulder and then⁠—

He lowered her in front of him. The satin and lace tumbled. Her breath heaved.

“You can’t ride on my Harley wearing that damn thing.” And, for the second time in the last ten minutes, a man came at her with a knife.

Except the blade of Nash’s knife didn’t touch her at all. It did slice away her dress. He cut the bottom of the dress off her, leaving Delaney in a new, makeshift skirt that barely fell to mid-thigh.

“Delaney!” A bellow from the church.

She looked toward the open doors.

Kurt was trying to charge at her, but some of his friends-slash-henchmen were holding him back. For the moment.

“Let’s go.” She jumped over the discarded satin that had fallen at her feet. “Go, go, go!”

Nash stared at her with his amazing eyes—one blue, one brown. Both eyes glittered with his fury. “What in the hell is happening?”

Her side ached. Probably due to the stab wound. Or slice. Yes, she definitely preferred to think of it as a slice because a slice sounded way better than a stab. “How about we talk about everything once we are away? Okay? Good for you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Delaney…”

He saved me. Got me away from Kurt. She leapt at Nash. Grabbed his powerful shoulders and hauled him toward her. Her lips pressed frantically, desperately to his.

Nash stiffened.

“You just saved my life,” she whispered against his mouth. “Now, if we both want to keep living, we have to get out of here.” Delaney backed away. Clutched his hand. “Let’s go. Please, please, please. Let’s go. Fast. Now.”

He climbed on the motorcycle. She jumped on, too, and locked her body behind his. The big, black beast of a bike snarled with fury when Nash started the engine. Oh, what a beautiful, dark, and growling sound. The sound of hope and freedom.

“Hold on,” Nash told her.

Like she wasn’t already doing that. Holding on for dear life.

The motorcycle leapt away from the church. She had a fast flash of Kurt’s glaring face as he stood in the open doorway of the church, and wild laughter escaped her.

She’d just gotten her miracle. In the form of her ex-lover.

Fate could have such a twisted sense of humor.

Nash raced away with her into the dark, and she held on, well, as if her very life depended on him. Which, yeah, it did.

The man who’d broken her heart had seriously just saved her ass.