This Man Confessed(8)

I feel him grin against my ear. “Are you ready to love, honor, and obey me?”

“Yes. Marry me now.”

He pulls back and hits me with his smile, reserved only for me. “Let’s get married, my beautiful girl.” He joins our handcuffed hands and starts leading me down the aisle.





“Here.” He hands me a half-full flute of champagne. “Take it easy, Mrs. Ward.”

I take the glass with my free hand before he can withdraw his offer. He’s been even more unreasonable about my drinking lately. “Are you going to remove the cuffs now?”

“No,” he answers swiftly. “You’re not leaving my side all day long.” He signals for a bottle of water from Mario, and I’m suddenly reminded that I’ll never enjoy a drink with Jesse, not even on our wedding day.

I glance around the bar, seeing everyone chatting, nibbling on canapés, and drinking champagne. It’s relaxed and calm, just how I feel myself. After Jesse insulted all things traditional, we made our vows and he took it upon himself to drown me in his mouth—prior to getting the go-ahead from the registrar. Then he picked me up and strode out of the summer room, leaving my poor mother chasing behind, demanding he wait for the music. Not a chance. I was placed neatly on my stool at the bar and smothered with his lips while the congregation made their way in behind us.

Dan catches my attention across the room. He’s being so quiet, his attention constantly pointed in Kate’s direction, which means it’s also pointed in Sam’s.

“What are you thinking about?”

I pull my attention back to Jesse and smile. “Nothing.”

He rests his palm on the back of my neck and massages me. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly. I’m delirious. He knows I am.

“Good, then my work here is done. Kiss me, wife.” He leans down, offering me his lips.

Reaching up, I pull him down to me, giving him exactly what he wants.

“Enough!” Mum’s shrill voice stabs at my eardrums. “Get those handcuffs off my daughter!” She starts fiddling with my wrist. “Jesse Ward, you would try the patience of a saint! Where’s the key?”

He pulls back and narrows his eyes on Mum. “Somewhere you’ll never want to venture, Elizabeth.”

She gasps and throws irritated eyes at me. “Your husband is a menace.”

“I love him,” I declare, and she fights a fond smile from her cherry red lips. She’s desperate to maintain her grievance, but I know she loves him, too. I know she loves how much he loves me, and while he infuriates her, he also charms her, as he does all women. Just because Elizabeth happens to be my mother doesn’t make her immune to his potency.

“I know you do, darling.” She turns her attention to the bar, calling Mario for some of his Most Marvelous.

“Right!” Tessa dives over and takes my glass from my hand. “The photographer is ready. I thought we’d get the family shots done first, then have you two alone for a few. You’ll need to remove those cuffs.”

I watch as my glass is placed on the bar before she makes a grab for Jesse’s water, but he swipes it away, leaving Tessa grabbing at thin air. “We’re not in the photos. I told you.”

“We’re not?” I blurt, completely shocked. He’s trampling that tradition, too?

“You must be in the photos,” Tessa insists. “What memories will you have?” She looks horrified.

“I don’t need pictures for memories.”

I look at him in horror. “We’re not in the family shots?” Oh God, another reason for my mum to despair.

“No,” he answers decisively.

“You can’t begrudge her a photo with her daughter!” Tessa pleads.

He doesn’t answer; he just shrugs nonchalantly, completely unfazed.

I roll my eyes. “You do it on purpose,” I grumble. “We’re having photos.”

“No, we’re not.”

I glare at my delicious husband with narrowed, determined eyes. He is not trampling this. “We are having photographs. This is my wedding, too, Ward.”

His mouth drops open, his bottle pausing halfway to his lips. “But I want some quiet time. Just me and you.”

“We’re having photos,” I say, full of authority. I feel a sulk coming on, but I’m not letting him win this one.

He scowls slightly, but he doesn’t argue with me. Instead, he signals for Tessa to gather our guests and take them into the rear grounds of The Manor. I watch as she flies into commander role, shouting for everyone to follow on.

“Come on, then,” he grumbles, lifting me from the stool and placing me neatly on my feet. I mentally cheer to myself. He’s learning, or perhaps it’s me who’s learning—learning how to deal with him. I’m not sure, but we’re making immense progress. He knows when to relent, as do I.