by Orla Bailey
“Your wedding started an hour ago. Without you,” he finally shouts through the door in exasperation. “Serve you right if he marries someone else.”
“Go away! I’m changing as fast as I can.”
I hear Laurent wander off muttering under his breath.
“He’s right, you know. Even if we leave now, we’ll be two hours late at least, by the time we get there.”
“Can’t help it,” I say struggling into my super sexy underwear. “I’m going properly dressed.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
Libby hesitates but I know that look. “What?” I ask her, my hands resting on my silk covered hips.
“Aren’t you afraid by now he’ll think you’ve changed your mind?”
I smile to myself. “No. Jack trusts me. And I trust him. He’ll be there waiting for me however long I take to get to him.”
Even so we ask the chauffeur of the white 1927 Vintage Rolls Royce Phantom convertible to step on it and the darling man does so with pleasure. I expect he’s used to crazy laughing brides running late. He gets us to the Old Royal Naval College Chapel in Greenwich in record time. It helps that cars and pedestrians move out of our way at the unusual sight we present. Red, white and blue.
Jack’s brothers are pacing outside but when they see us they race back in to signal our arrival and I hear the strains of Vivaldi drifting out from the orchestra inside.
Laurent kisses me on both cheeks. He adopts a very serious countenance which makes me laugh hysterically. “I wish you luck. You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever given away.”
“I’m the only bride you’ve ever given away,” I remind him, tweaking at his white rose buttonhole.
“Exactly. I should have married you myself.”
“You didn’t. And never tell Jack that.”
“Only an angel like you could wear such a sexy dress and still appear so innocent.” He discharges his duty of bolstering my confidence magnificently.
“Only a devil like you would point that out.” We embrace like proud brother and loving sister.
Libby hands me my bouquet of pale green Irish bells and soft white English tea roses. She arranges the long strands of silk tulle, embroidered with lace applique wound around the stems, so they trail down the front of my dress.
“You look beautiful, honey. Laurent is absolutely right. Ready?”
“Perfectly.” I’m surprisingly calm considering hundreds of guests are about to witness something they’ve never seen before. A bride coming down this historic chapel aisle dressed in scarlet. It’s the knowledge that I’m walking towards Jack that makes it possible.
Jack’s two sisters and my two closest friends from university gather in their bridesmaid’s gowns. I see the look of shock on all their faces when they see my dress but they kiss me, wish me luck and say nothing about it at all. I love them for it.
The orchestral music changes as Libby lines up the bridesmaids and they enter the chapel to Pachelbel’s Canon in D. I remember how sad I once felt when I played this with my university orchestra. I know I’ll never feel sad like that again.
Laurent squeezes my hand reassuringly as we hang back a little. I smile at him and take his arm to walk inside when the orchestra starts the Trumpet Voluntary.
Jack turns. Everyone turns. All eyes fall on me but I see only Jack’s.
His floor me.
Yet they hold me steady.
At first I wonder if he’s even noticed the dress I’m wearing. But he’s noticed.
My heart stalls for a second as I watch his gaze flow right down my body and back up again. When his eyes meet mine I have my answer.
They are not telling me I’m a crazy girl, but an amazing one.
His smile is one of utter pride, sheer admiration for my daring in upstaging the grandeur of the day and complete acceptance of me no matter what I wear. No matter what I do.
He loves me.
Our vows are simple and beautiful and I cry the whole way through but he wipes my tears away. We exchange rings and when he kisses me it’s like the very first time.
The orchestra stirs into the Hornpipe from Handel’s Water Music for our recessional as we leave the chapel: husband and wife.
Amongst the magnificence of the Painted Hall at the Naval College, where we hold our reception we enjoy an amazing meal with toasts and speeches.
Finally I manage to speak quietly to Jack. “You haven’t said anything about my wedding dress.”
He offers me a radiantly happy smile. “That you look beautiful in it?”
I’m not going to spoil this precious time by revealing what happened. “Are you disappointed?”
“That I’ve married a confident woman?” I can’t read the sudden change of expression on his face but mine must register some confusion when he stands and disappears for a quiet word with the band. When he returns he holds out his hand for mine.
“Time we had our first dance, Mrs Keogh.” He leads me onto the floor as everyone applauds and watches. “Remind me to take you dancing often.”
“I’ll ask Dorothy to put it in your diary every week. I love you, Jack Keogh.”
“I’m glad you said that, cailín álainn, because you’re stuck with me.”
The band plays and I stare at Jack in wonderment. This isn’t the song we decided on. He laughs and whirls me tightly into his arms to the opening bars of Alicia Keys hit, Girl on Fire.
“Does that answer your question about the dress?” he whispers against my ear. He twirls us, locking our bodies tightly together until I’m breathless. “You know I’m going to fuck you in that red dress, don’t you.”
I can deal with that. “I’m counting on it.”
The song slowly melts into the song we actually agreed upon. The one Jack insisted on: Amazed by Lonestar. Everyone in the room disappears until there is only us. He sings every word to me and makes me cry.
He is so intense he has the ability to shift me on my axis. Yet there’s an inevitability to this man which anchors my world. He dances, his body sinuously against mine. His Arctic blue eyes hypnotise and compel me until our song ends.
“The song is all about you, kitten. My life is all about you. I’m yours.”
We kiss and suddenly everyone reappears to cheer our enthusiastic performance before the other guests move onto the floor around us to dance too. None of Jack’s virile ability to overwhelm me and engulf my senses has diminished. I’ve just learned to handle it better. Some of the time.
“You’re not going to change me overnight, kitten.”
“I’ll consider you a work in progress.”
“I hope you’re up for a challenge.”
“I married you, didn’t I?”
“You did, baby. Thank you. There’s no going back now.” He grins at the prospect.
“So we’ll go forward.”
“I have high hopes for you, kitten.”
I arch my eyebrow at him.
“That’s done it!” Jack stops dancing. We stand stationary in the middle of a sea of swaying bodies. “You know I can’t stand here and do nothing when you arch your eyebrow at me in that manner.”
I’m astonished.
“I’ve reached the end of my tether,” he whispers. He waits until his meaning becomes abundantly clear.
“Oh.”
“Oh. Exactly.” His eyes travel slowly down to my lips and I wipe the lip gloss off them myself with the back of my hand. I could interpret that expression in the dark. “You, kitten, have deprived me of your beautiful body quite long enough. It’s time I was rewarded for my patience. I want to show you just how much I really love you.” He grabs my hand, turns and propels me towards the door.
A male guest steps out, blocking our path. “May I have the pleasure of this dance with your beautiful bride?”
Jack glares at him and declines on my behalf, manoeuvring me around him. I mouth sorry over my shoulder but see him shrug it off. I think he might know of Jack’s repu
tation already.
“Jack?” I gasp in reproach. “It’s tradition. It’s normal for guests to dance with the bride. Even kiss them?” I suggest, daringly.
Jack whirls me round to face him. “I don’t share my women.”
“Your women?”
He smiles that smile. “Woman. I won’t share you. There’d be blood.” He dares me to challenge the fact, with the Look.
I concede defeat. “Okay.” It might take a little longer to change Jack than I anticipated. Meanwhile I’ll learn to live with my caveman. I’m not sharing him either.
“We can’t just disappear like this. It’s too soon.” I’m embarrassed. I pull back ineffectively. Everyone will know why we’re going off and if I grow any hotter they’ll be able to read it all over my face too.
“It’s our wedding, kitten. We should do what pleases us. You please me and we’re leaving.”
Before we slip away, Jack spots his best man waiting for us by the exit, clasps him by the hand and they shake. “Give us enough time to get clear, then you can tell them we’ve gone.” They thump each other on the shoulder and grin at their conspiracy. I hardly know where to look.
“I haven’t thrown my bouquet yet,” I protest.
Jack stares at me for a moment. “Crazy girl.”
But he takes me to the table at the side of the room where I left it, picks it up and hands it over. Jack takes me across and asks the band singer to sing Michael Bublé’s Everything for me as we stare at one another. As I listen to the lyrics I decide they’re as much about my feelings for Jack as he thinks they’re all about his for me. We end up grinning.
Jack drags me up on stage and asks the band for a moment at the end of the number. “Ready?”
As I understand his intention, my lips curve. He smiles back and I laugh.
Taking the microphone, Jack addresses the room. “Thank you for celebrating this wonderful day with my wife and me. We hope you’ll stay a lot, lot longer and enjoy yourselves thoroughly. The drinks have all been paid for.” He waits for the hearty cheering to die down. “I, unfortunately, cannot remain as my delightful new bride is desperate to spirit me away. Well you can hardly blame the girl for that. She wants to be alone with me.” Everyone laughs at his dire fate.
Except me.
“That’s the Keogh charm,” Jack’s father announces. “The boy has it too.”
“Will you ever shut up and let anyone speak, Liam, you eejit?” Fionnoula rebukes him.
I know I must look as horrified as I feel at the attention we’ve drawn. It’s reflected in the hilarity on every spectator’s face whilst Madame Chastain stares, merrily resigned, at her petite folle. My face must surely match the colour of my dress and as Jack bellows with laughter at my reaction, I thump him.
“You see. She’s establishing the pecking order already.” The crowd roars. Jack really knows how to command a room. “I had to remind her there were traditions to uphold before any such pleasures were hers.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper.
“Yes, darling, I’m going as fast as decency will allow me,” he pretends to reply. Out loud.
I give up.
He raises my limp wrist which is still clutching the bouquet. “If all you unmarried ladies care to prepare yourselves for an opportunity, you too may one day be as happy as my darling wife.”
There’s a riotous scrabble of women who bunch together in front of us. Jack gives me the nod so I roll my eyes, turn and launch it backwards over my head. I don’t even get time to see who catches it before Jack heaves me through the nearest door.
“Run,” he tells me.
True enough, people give chase trying to see us off. The very last thing I notice is Blackstock, Libby and members of Jack’s family doing their very best to delay them or distract them enough to give us a head start. I pick up my skirts and gallop beside him.
“Can’t you go any faster?” he laughs.
“Not in these heels.” My sides are splitting.
He stops and hefts me over his shoulder making me squeal. He runs with me bouncing like a sack of spaniels draped inelegantly down his back. Not what I imagined my wedding exit would look like. But this is nothing like I imagined my life would be. Except in my wildest dreams.
We head down the path towards the river, onto the pier and down the gangplank where he lowers me to the ground. My head is spinning from being bounced upside down but when I land on my feet what I see takes my breath away.
“cailín álainn,” I gasp.
“She was always yours.”
“Like I was always yours,” I tell him.
He kisses me.
Jack’s boat, moored there, is decked out magically with draped white chiffon and hundreds of flawless white roses strung everywhere the eye is drawn. Scented tea lights flicker in glass globes in honour of the waning sunlight’s last herald over the river. A huge banner flapping in the soft breeze declares we’re Just Married. But better than all that, he’s had it adorned with our Buddhist eternal knot symbol. The beauty of it all brings tears to my eyes.
“More tears, my love?”
“Happy ones.”
This is the place destiny finally wants us to be.
Jack scoops me into his arms and carries me on board. He takes over the helm from the man guarding it at the pier. The guy steps onto dry land to free the mooring lines as Jack starts up the engine. Half of our reception party, caught up behind us, are leaning over the barrier waving and calling to wish us bon voyage.
Jack launches immediately into the flow of the river, executes a flash, unnecessary, 360 degree turn – just for the sheer joy of it – before surging off into the choppy waters. Other nearby boats sound their horns to acknowledge and congratulate us as we pass. We wave to them all, laughing. He encloses me safely in his arms as he navigates and I lean back into the strong wall of his body to caress my cheek against his.
“Happy, kitten?”
“Blissfully.” I close my eyes because I know when I open them again this isn’t just some delicious dream. This time it’s for real. Forever. Everything I hoped for.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going on honeymoon?”
He kisses the top of my head, amused at my impatient excitement. “We’re mooring up soon to spend our wedding night on board. It’s about time the captain and his wife became more intimately acquainted with the master cabin.”
“Boat sex?” I laugh.
“Guilty. I can’t wait any longer to make love to you, Mrs Keogh. I can’t get enough of you.”
I allow my hand to drop and lazily caress his rock hard thigh. “Can’t we go any faster?”
His hand reaches round to flatten against my stomach. He presses me back against his body where his hips ease slowly against me and I get proof of the pleasures to come.
“How would you feel about spending the next month at Lassec?” he asks.
A thrill runs up my spine. “Does the new owner know?” I tease.
“She does now.”
I turn into his embrace, throw my arms round his neck and kiss him hard. “The two things I love most in the whole world together at the same time? It will be the most perfect honeymoon ever.”
“It will be the most perfect start to a honeymoon ever.”
“There’s more?” I’m stunned.
Jack nods but remains silent in spite of my most hopeful and most encouraging gaze. I can see him practically biting his inner cheek not to grin.
“So are you going to tell me?”
“Soon.” Jack’s mouth closes back over mine, moving his lips and tongue slowly and thoroughly to stimulate all my senses. The boat drifts a bit off course but we don’t care. We know exactly where we’re going.
“I love you.” I’m already in paradise because I live in Jack’s love and he lives in mine. “It doesn’t matter where you take me from here.”
“I’ll always know where to find you, kitten.”
“How do you figure that out?�
��
He smiles at me, knowingly. “Because you’re right here. Inside my heart.”
Always.
Everything For You
The Trilogy
by
Orla Bailey
Everything You Need #1
Everything You Want #2
Everything You Are #3
Review them NOW on Amazon
#1
Everything You Need
Inheriting a company has its problems. Not least of these for Tabitha, is having to confront her most difficult client – the mega successful businessman who spurned her pitiful attentions without a backward glance.
Now she’s infinitely more guarded.
As magnetic and uncompromising as ever, Jack has a clear idea about what he can do for the beautiful Tabby.
And what she can do for him…
#2
Everything You Want
Breaking free of Jack’s allure is the hardest thing Tabitha has ever had to do.
But he’s already tarnished her reputation in business, made her his willing plaything under the nose of the woman he really wants. And shattered her trust once more.
Her biggest mistake yet, may be to underestimate this man’s determination to punish her reckless defiance.
Because until Jack’s through with you, he isn’t through…
#3
Everything You Are
Jealous rivalry has wrecked all Tabitha’s dreams.
Unyielding, Jack is done with her. But she’s learnt a trick or two from the master.
Risking everything on the two things he can never resist – a good deal and what he can never get enough of – Tabby offers him a proposition.
She may be asking the impossible but this time karma’s a kitten… with claws.
