Curves Couture-Completed

Chapter 17

Chapter17

"It's a horrendous monstrosity!" I exclaimed in shock, staring at the gauzy, frothy, and then brocade and silk creation laid out in all its gory before me. And was that strips of velvet? A bloody couture! A wedding couture, no less. What were they thinking?

"I am not wearing that hideous garment," I exclaimed again indignantly, not waiting for any replies. The shame-faced looks on both Tracy and Rafael told its own tale.

"You have to Claire. We have signed the contract. Your wedding will be the launch to a couture wedding line—a new trend. This whole shebang has been arranged as the official launch. Not only is the house of couture funding your wedding, but you are going to be a very rich lady at the end of it," said Rafael, wringing his hands fretfully. "All you have to do is walk down the aisle in that monstrosity and beam a smile that will not only convince the world that this is the next new thing but have them actually fly off the racks and onto the bridal marches, only the world over."

I stared at him, opened-mouthed, utterly aghast.

Erin and I had been hustled awake not long after we closed our eyes, only hours earlier this morning. Then, the hordes of hair stylists, makeup artists, and what not descended on us. But the dress. ... That damn dress had only just arrived. I realized, now, that too had been plotted and planned to precision.

I glared ferociously at my two new agents but then sighed in resignation. There was nothing else to it. I had to wear the ghastly garment and simply hope for the best—hope that Erin overlooked the horror that would be approaching him down the blasted aisle. Then again, the poor man was already leg shackled to me for life. It was not as though he could run away in fright at this point. Nope. For better or worse: he was in with me on this for life. A pinch of pity for my Erin stung at my heart.

"It will be over before you know it," offered Rafael encouragingly.

I shook my head bitterly at that then helplessly lifted my arms for the deed to be done.

It took three of them working together to slip the freak of nature over my head and have it come to rest gracelessly on my shoulders.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror then simply closed my eyes in earnest.

Our hotel was not far from St. Paul Cathedral: the choice venue for our wedding. But still, we opted for the limo rides getting there. Our return to the hotel being on the more traditional and photographic horse drawn carriages, I arrived awkwardly but on time. Gathered there, awaiting me, was an assortment of carefully-selected flower girls and bridesmaids. A milieu of photographers were working them over, snapping shots from every angle. Reporters and paparazzi hovered at the sidelines along with a robust crowd of curious onlookers.

We were snapped on arriving, and as I got out, yet more flashes lit up around me. I stood there on the footpath, frowning. It felt weird being a bride. And more so strange being this well photographed. Standing around model bridesmaids and flower girls was just plain awkward. I doubted my frown would be wearing off anytime soon. But then, Michelle, who was the appointed time keeper, descended amongst us. And after buzzing around, refreshing our makeup and hair, took the lead in ushering us all in.

It was time.

I was the epitome of an English bride. I had something borrowed: Colin leading me down the aisle. Something new: Janice smiling at me sweetly from her place in the pew. And most importantly, something blue: me walking down the aisle in this gothic horror in white.

I beamed a fearsome smile that surely cracked the lenses of several cameras snapping crazily all over the place. They wanted to capture the hideous look of my dress from every possible angle, but I ask them, how could they possibly miss? The thing was huge with a train that was still winding its way past the entry. Admittedly, the brocade waist was corseted, and it squeezed out a waistline that was quite satisfactory.

But my cleavage surely spilled out most inappropriately for a church. And the gauzy fluff that was edged in lace flared out knee-high, knocking into Colin with each step I took.

Then, there was that strip of velvet—white velvet that hugged my hips and then folded into pleats over my ass as if I didn't already have an ass big enough to relocate an entire township.

I hadn't looked at Erin as I started down the aisle, but I did so now, halfway down the aisle. Lifting my head high so that my hair, pinned up straight over my forehead in a high ponytail with an extension of curls wavering over my shoulders, tossed back defiantly, I caught his gaze beneath the half veil of net and lace.

The look in his eyes stunned me.

Such pride and happiness radiated out of him. I stared back with a glimmer of hope. Perhaps the dress was not as horrendous as I had thought. Certainly, I would never understand couture. I beamed a shy but happy smile of my own and had to stifle the urge to bound over to his side like a happy puppy.

Then, I was there, having floated over the remaining distance on the strength of his gaze alone.

I smiled delightedly into his eyes and then stared hungrily at the sensual turn of his lips. I licked my own in anticipation, instantly lost in inappropriately erotic thoughts. I droned out the priest's long-winding diatribe but was then forced to turn away at the insistent clearing of a throat to face the intrusive priest, who annoyingly demanded my attention.

"Yes!" I snapped at him before turning back to glue my eyes on my Erin. His lips twitched in barely restrained amusement, and I felt mine lift too in a besotted smile that served only to beam my love for him loud and clear for all to see.

"Now, you may kiss the bride. ..."

That penetrated my haze of happiness like nothing else could. I lifted my lips happily, eager for his kiss, then reached out to tug his chuckling face lower when he failed to comply speedily enough. My lips closed over his in a swoon-worthy kiss that he took over and made his own in a flash.

We kissed... and kissed... overlong, ignoring the polite titters and then the not-so-polite guffaws that followed from the diverted audience. We turned to face them then, and I noticed for the first time that the crowd was littered with celebrities and models all dressed along the theme of the wedding. Everyone was being photographed for the magazines, but for once, I didn't really care. I was fully and completely married to the man of my dreams, and that was all that mattered to me.

I turned to face Erin again and was caught up against him in another kiss before he lifted me up bridal style and carried me down the aisle.