*****
She was finally Mrs. Dean Andrew Collier. After the poignant exchange of vows where they had stared into each other's eyes and solemnly vowed to stick with each other through thick and thin until death parted them, after the exchange of rings, the blessings on their union, and the deliberately chaste kiss that had the guests protesting, they had walked out as husband and wife.
Then came the frenzied picture-taking at the manor with the professional photographer taking advantage of what he referred to as the wonderful light filtering through the rose bushes, beneath the pergola, and the quaint bridge over the stream. There was the cutting of the enormous ten-tier almond cake with white chocolate ganache, the champagne fountain, and the sumptuous feast that had been catered by the best.
She was pleasantly tired and had danced with all the male wedding guests. It was now time for them to make their departure.
"How about a dance for the father-in-law?" Martin Collier, looking resplendent in an ash gray suit, caught her around the waist as she was about to make her way over to her groom.
"I think I'm all danced out," she told him with a friendly laugh. The man creeped her out, but she was doing her best to try and like him for her husband's sake.
"One dance." He smiled down at her from his lofty height, his arms going around her narrow waist. She had shed the veil as well as the overskirt that had subtly hidden the sexy lines of the dress. She had also taken off the satin and lace heels, a direct replica of the dress, and had on flats for comfort.
His eyes skimmed over her face and touched for one uncomfortable moment on her lips.
"My son chose very well. You're quite the beauty," he said, swinging her around and bringing her up against his body, much too close for comfort.
"I would like to think it's more than looks that interested him," she replied, putting a hand on his chest as she fought to put some distance between them.
"Oh, it's looks," he murmured with a soft laugh. "You're a captivating creature and the first woman to get him to propose. It must be a proud moment for you." He was staring at her lips again, his expression one of lazy approval.
From across the immaculate lawn, Dean lifted his head just in time to see his father trailing a hand down his wife's back. Fury came first, blinding fury that had his body trembling. He was about to march over there and haul him away from her when his sister touched his arm.
"You don't want to create a scene with all these people and reporters present," she warned. "Calm down."
"That son of a bitch," he said harshly. Taking a deep breath, he calmed down sufficiently to walk across the lawn. Before he could reach them, his bride had already disentangled herself from his embrace.
"If I see you touching her like that again, we're going to have a problem," Dean gritted as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"I was just welcoming her to the family." His father's smile slipped a notch at the murderous look on his face. Holding up his hands, he took a step back. "There was a time when we used to share women." His gray eyes drifted to Catherine. "Did he tell you about that momentous time when we bonded as father and son?"
If he had hoped to shock her, he was in for a big disappointment. "He did. He was a child who did not know any better, but you were a grown man and a father. You should be ashamed of yourself. And if you ever try to feel me up again, I'm going to forget we're related by marriage and knee you in the place you value the most."
Turning to her husband, she gave him a sweet smile. "I'm ready to leave."
*****
He kept stealing glances at her as he drove towards the apartment. What she had said to his father had sucker-punched the man and had him gaping at her. Beneath the soft serenity, there lay more than a hint of steel. He was so proud of her, he could feel the pride bursting inside his chest. Right now, his new bride was curled up on her side, hands cradling her cheek, and was fast asleep.
His heart melted as he stole another glance at her. The ceremony had lasted a little over thirty minutes. The reception with all of its different segments had lasted more than three hours. Saying goodbye to their guests had taken another hour, which had left him chafing with impatience.
Now he was on his way to paradise. He was finally going to put to rest the torment of being near her and not going all the way. She was going to be his in every sense of the word. The thought of it quickened his blood.
He came to a stop in the wide driveway. Unhooking his belt, he turned fully to stare at her. She was curled up, with her feet tucked beneath her, and looked as innocent as a child. His heart took a slow dive as he wondered when he would be able to put his baby inside her.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty." His fingers glided over her cheek. When she still did not stir, he grinned and decided to do the next best thing. Shoving the door open, he rounded the hood andopened her door. Quietly unhooking her belt, he eased his arms around her and lifted her against his chest.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared at him in confusion.
"I sincerely hope you're not trying to get out of this part of the day."
"I was asleep."
"More like you were in a coma," he averred with a grin.
She stretched languidly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I like this part," she murmured huskily, still half asleep.
"I'm sure you do." His long legs made short work of the journey from the parking lot to the massive oak doors. Keying in his code, he nudged the doors with his hips and made sure to lock up. He had plans that were going to take up most of the night and the morning. He had given the housekeeper two weeks off. Their honeymoon would officially start the day after tomorrow.