HisMarriageBargain Read Online Free PDF

face. “You love it, don’t you?”
    Tears pricked Autumn’s eyes. She picked at the skirt,
swishing it around her thighs. “I do. Is that stupid?”
    “No, not at all. The dress kind of picks you, if you ask me.
It really suits you.” Ester’s smile was genuine.
    Autumn turned this way and that. Overwhelmed was a
mild word to use.
    “Here.” Rose stepped onto the platform behind her and
fastened a short, netlike veil into her hair. It only covered down to her chin,
but something about it completed the look. A little jewelry, some makeup and
she was a bride.
    A real bride.
    A tear rolled down her cheek.
    “Oh Autumn, you look beautiful.” Ester squeezed her arm.
    Autumn turned to the woman and hugged her. Her friends and
mother weren’t there, but she’d take what comfort she could.
    “What’s wrong?” Rose, ever astute, steered her to the couch
and offered her some tissues.
    When she could see again, Isaac had disappeared and Ester
and Rose sat on either side of her. Autumn wiped her nose again.
    “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
    “No, it’s okay.” Ester rubbed her bare back in soothing
circles.
    “You look beautiful, and we can get it taken in just a bit,”
Rose offered.
    “Thank you. I really appreciate this. I just, well, I never
thought I’d actually be a bride.” She’d never expected to find someone who
loved more than her body, let alone a ring.
    “You are a beautiful bride,” Ester crooned.
    Autumn wiped a fresh fall of tears from her cheeks. “That’s
just it. I’ve always been told that because of my tattoos I would never be a
‘beautiful bride’.”
    “That’s ridiculous.” Rose snorted. “You’re a beautiful young
lady. Of course you’re a beautiful bride.”
    “Someone said that to you?” Ester gaped at her.
    Autumn had to laugh at that. “I guess you’d be surprised by
what people say to me, but yeah. I’ve been told that. More than once.” She
wiped her eyes and laughed. Fuck the disbelievers. All of them.
    She’d seen herself in the mirror.
    She knew the truth.
    She was every inch a beautiful bride.

Chapter Three
    Gray Wash—Style typically used for portraits. It has a
smooth appearance and lends itself to the dark-to-light gradient.
     
    Sammi strode through his family’s large home. The only sound
was his loafers on the marble flooring. He’d grown up in this house, but it had
never felt very homey. There was too much history, too much formality in the
carved columns, oil paintings and leather furniture to evoke warm thoughts, but
Father had been proud of it.
    His father had sat with him on more than a few evenings
during Sammi’s recovery as a teen, telling him anything was possible. How their
family had fled from Iran with little to nothing, and yet they’d built
themselves into a real estate powerhouse. After all, Persians owned property,
they didn’t rent it. Purchasing this home had marked his parents’ successful
rebirth into American life.
    He stepped through French doors to the sunroom. His mother’s
domain. Flowers sat on wire racks, little beds were constructed along the
walls. It was a piece of the outdoors in the comfort of air-conditioning. Soft
gauze curtains diminished the midday glare from the sun, but only a little.
    “Samuel, there you are. You’re late.” His mother, Tamara
Zimmerman, sat at a white wicker table set with lunch and tea, wearing her
trademark frown.
    “Hello, Mother.” Sammi bent and hugged her shoulders gently.
While his mother was something of a hypochondriac, there was no denying her
advancing age, and the death of her husband wore on her. There was more gray in
her hair, her shoulders stooped lower each year and her frown lines had grown
deeper.
    “Sit. Have some tea.” She patted the table with one hand and
lifted her flower-print porcelain cup to her lips.
    Sammi folded himself into the small chair and tucked his
legs under the table. “You’re looking well.”
    More accurately, she didn’t appear to be