Monica smiled at her. “I’m eighty-two, Isabeau. I have no children and this is my work. I’m grateful for the opportunity to give it to someone who will treasure it.”

Isabeau felt tears choking her. The kindness of these people, the sheer generosity was amazing. She let her breath out, struggling not to cry. “Then, thank you. I’ll never forget any of you. You make me feel as if I really have a family.”

The women smiled at one another and ushered her into the house, out of Conner’s sight.

17

CONNER was nervous. He hadn’t expected to be nervous. He was also excited and he’d expected that, but suddenly, standing up in front of the judge with a much larger audience than he’d counted on was a little disconcerting. Rio kept grinning at him and he found it was just better not to look at Leonardo or Felipe. Even Elijah had shot him a quick smirk before going off to patrol. He ran his finger around his collar and adjusted his tie one more time. Admittedly this was all his idea, so he couldn’t exactly run.

He wanted to marry Isabeau. It wasn’t that making him nervous. But what if she changed her mind? He shouldn’t have pushed her so hard. She was young. Nearly ten years younger than he was, and she’d been sheltered. What had he done? Come into her life, exposed her father, revealed she’d been adopted and then dragged her into a very dangerous situation. He took a breath and ran his sweaty palms down his thighs. Okay, she’d been the one to seek out the team for the present job, but truthfully, if he’d ever found out about his brother, he would have gone anyway, and he could have—should have protected her more . . .

The music started. Hushed murmurs rose and he turned his head. His heart stopped beating. The breath stilled in his lungs. Isabeau stood framed in the doorway, her gloved hand tucked into the crook of Doc’s elbow. She was in a floor-length gown that emphasized the curves of her body to perfection. Diamonds sparkled at her throat and ears. She looked ethereal, a princess in some fairy tale. She looked so beautiful his eyes burned and his throat felt raw. His heart managed to kick-start again, this time hammering in his chest. A roaring started in his head and muscles knotted in his stomach. Her wild hair looked elegant, and yet maintained her untamed appearance, adding to the throb in his groin.

He realized his mouth was open and he was devouring her with his eyes, but he couldn’t stop. There was no way to look away from her, a vision, walking toward him. He felt a mixture of emotions, humbled by the fact that she could love him after what he’d done—and what he might have to do. She was everything to him and he knew that emotion was raw and stark on his face for everyone to see, but he couldn’t mask it. He didn’t even want to try.

Mary sobbed in the front row and several other women dabbed at their eyes. One of the men blew his nose loudly. And then she was moving, walking toward him, her gaze on his, and his love grew with every step she took until he felt as if he might burst with it. He didn’t know if every groom felt this way, but in his world, where everything was life and death, where he saw the worst in people, this moment, surrounded by friends and good people, was perfection.

He glanced once at Rio to make certain he had the all-important ring. Doc’s friend, an older woman by the name of Monica Taylor, had brought him several boxes to allow him to pick out a ring for his bride. He’d never seen such beautiful work, and when he realized the jeweler was Monica, he was even more impressed. Her hands were twisted and gnarled with arthritis, and when she showed him the rings, she’d trembled.

Rio seemed to understand his concern and he nodded his head and made a show of touching his pocket, leaving Conner able to concentrate solely on his bride as she walked up the aisle to him. He wanted the moment to last forever, that image of her moving toward him. Everything else in the yard disappeared. Even his sense of self-preservation. He’d been raised to always—always—be on the alert for danger. There was a part of him aware of his surroundings, constantly vigilant, but in that moment, he was wholly focused, even his cat’s entire attention was completely centered on Isabeau.

He heard the judge asking who gave this woman to this man as if from a great distance. Doc’s voice murmured an answer and then he was placing Isabeau’s hand in Conner’s. He closed his fingers around hers and drew her hand to him. He leaned down, his gaze holding hers.

“You’re so beautiful, Isabeau. Thank you for this.”

Her lashes fluttered. She actually looked shy. He felt her fingers curl in his and his heart jumped again. He’d never felt so protective of anyone in his life. He pulled her close to him as they turned to face the judge. He wanted his body heat to envelope her, his scent, so that he filled her senses in the same way she filled his.

He could hear the man speaking about the sacred bond of marriage and at last he understood what he was really feeling. This was his other half. He was complete with her and she with him. They had chosen one another to share it all—both good and bad. They knew bad. They knew the worst of humanity—and the best. And they had chosen to walk a path together. He wanted that path to be the best he could make for her.

She looked into his eyes as she stated her vows in a soft, firm voice. He was clearer, confident, knowing his choice was right. With every passing moment of the binding ceremony, he felt the threads tying them together grow stronger until they were unbreakable bonds. She looked a little shocked when he removed her glove and pushed the ring onto her finger. She blinked up at him with a little gasp and then turned her head to search out and find Monica with a small happy smile and a nod.