“Yes, I’m more than ready. Take me to Jesse,” I demand, and that has the desired effect, everyone laughing at my order. Much better. I can’t cope with all of this intensity. Jesse provides me with enough of that.
Tessa barges in. “Come on, then. What’s the holdup?” she asks, scanning the bodies that are all staring at me. “Elizabeth, Kate, downstairs, please.” She escorts them from the room. “Ava, I’ll meet you at the summer room in three minutes.”
She exits sharply, leaving me and my dad alone. “You know, Dad, you have to link arms with me now,” I tease.
His face screws up. “For how long?”
“Well, for however long it takes you to walk me downstairs.” I pick up my calla lily—just one calla lily.
“Let’s get our arses in gear, then.” He cocks his arm to the side, and I link it with mine. “Ready?”
I nod and let my dad lead me down to the summer room, where my Lord of the Sex Manor is waiting for me.
Chapter Two
Kate and Tessa are waiting for us outside the doors to the summer room, my wedding planner looking pleased, Kate looking tipsy. Kate bends down to spread my dress neatly. “I can’t believe you’re not wearing a veil.”
“He wants to see my face,” I say quietly, clenching my eyes shut, the enormity of what I’m about to do suddenly overwhelming me. I can feel my chest expanding, and I’m beginning to shake. I’ve known this man for only two months. How did this happen?
The doors to the summer room open and music immediately drifts into my ears. Only now when I’m hearing Etta James’ “At Last” does it occur to me that I didn’t even pick the music for my wedding. I’ve done absolutely nothing. I have no idea what’s happening or when and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. My eyes are flying all over the floor and I’m suddenly feeling tearful.
Dad nudges me with his elbow, and I glance up at him, finding soft, reassuring eyes. He cocks his head to the side on a small smile, and I follow his indication to look, clenching my lips together and slowly turning my eyes. Damn, I’ve done so well. I know all heads are turned in my direction, but it’s the green-eyed man at the end of the aisle who holds my attention. His hands are joined and draped loosely in front of his gray, three-piece suit, his body turned fully toward me. His lips part and he shakes his head a little, never taking his eyes from mine. Dad nudges me again, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding, forcing my feet to lift and carry me onward, but I make it only two steps before he starts toward me. I hear Mum’s shocked gasp, no doubt reeling at Jesse’s lack of respect for tradition, and I stop, halting my dad’s progression, to wait for him. His face is completely straight, and when he makes it to me, he blisters my skin with his scorching gaze, his eyes running over every part of my face before settling on my lips. Slowly lifting his arm, his hand cups my cheek and his thumb runs over my flesh. I nuzzle into it; I can’t help it. All anxiety is drawn from me by his touch, my heart steadying and my body starting to relax again.
He bends down and puts his lips to my ear. “Give me your hand,” he whispers.
I hold out my hand to him, and he pulls away from me, taking my offering gently and placing his lips on the back. Then he snaps a pair of handcuffs over my wrist.
I gasp, my eyes shooting to his face, finding a small smile tickling the edges of his beautiful lips. But he doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes down and makes quick work of securing the cuffs. What the hell is he doing? I glance up at my dad, but he just shakes his head, and then I look across to my mother, seeing her head in her hands, obviously despairing. I’m released from my dad’s hold before he makes his way to the front to join Mum, her shocked whisper attacking him as he arrives by her side. My eyes drift over the congregation, noting all of the people who know Jesse are smiling, the ones who don’t displaying wide eyes and gaping mouths. Kate and Sam are chuckling, John’s flashing his gold tooth, and then there’s my brother. He’s not impressed.
I find my senses then find his eyes. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
He leans in and kisses me gently on the lips, then moves across my cheek to my ear. “You look so fuckable.”
I gasp again, my face flashing red. “Jesse, people are waiting.”
“Then they’ll wait.” He trails his way back to my lips. “I really, really, really like this dress.”
Of course he does; it’s pure lace. I flick my eyes to my mother, seeing her looking at the registrar all apologetic, and a small smile breaks the corners of my lips. I reach up to thread my fingers through his dark, dirty blond hair and tug. “Mr. Ward, you’re keeping me waiting.”