by Raine Miller
“But to me you are,” she said. “So frustrated at being forced to be social, and having to put on a show for those people, as you call them, who just happen to be our closest friends and family, and only want to wish us well and send us off on our honeymoon in style.”
“I know,” I admitted. “I just don’t want to share you right now…with anybody.” And I didn’t. At least I was honest about it.
Brynne held her arms out to me, and I reached down to pick her up, settling her against my chest, cradling her bum in my hands as she wrapped her legs around my hips. I walked us into the bathroom, kissing her sweet lips the whole way, counting the hours until my wish would be granted.
OF course there were jibes and catcalls when we showed up to Hallborough for the morning-after breakfast-slash brunch. Ethan would’ve had us climb out the window and slip away if he could’ve gotten away with it, but I’d convinced him we didn’t have a choice but to show up. I reminded him how happy it would make everyone to see us this morning, and in the end I’m pretty sure he agreed with me, because I had my methods of persuasion, and felt it was my prerogative to use them if I needed to. But as we walked in to join everyone, the knowing looks on their faces, the inner speculations about what Ethan and I had been doing the night previous was a little too invasive for my tastes. I loathed for people to think private thoughts about me. I understood very well why I had hang-ups with that particular idea; it didn’t change anything for me. I still felt that way.
As I tried to smile and look happy, realizing the people in the room were imagining all the sex I’d just enjoyed with my husband, put me on the defensive. I had to agree with Ethan’s earlier suggestion. The window escape plan sounded pretty damn appealing right about now. He must have sensed my reluctance, because he gave my side a little squeeze and whispered, “Four more hours, my beauty. We’ve got this.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my head and in we went.
Duties to our guests aside, I was very aware of how Hannah had gone over and above in her efforts on our behalf, along with our wedding planner, and the perfectly timed assistance of Elaina, had ensured our gig had gone off without a hitch and I couldn’t be more satisfied with how everything had turned out.
Only one thing was missing. Well, one person…but there was nothing to help me with that one. Love you, Dad.
The formal hall at Hallborough was casually set up with several tables dressed in cream linens, purple flowers, and old silver, that had to be worth a small fortune. The fact that Ethan and I would soon be country neighbors with Hannah and Freddy, and their three beautiful children, was something that made me very happy. Having a family to love and support you meant everything to me. They had done so much for us already. I looked forward to being closer and spending more time together.
So I found myself standing amid all the splendor, with my husband beside me, making the rounds, thanking everyone who’d stayed over at Hallborough to celebrate with us. He looked gorgeous as usual without barely any effort, his damp hair curling at the neck of his thin creamy sweater, paired with faded jeans and buttery-soft loafers in camel. Ethan did casual just as skillfully as he did suits. Mouthwatering.
After our shower, we’d dressed quickly and driven over to greet our guests one last time before taking off. We’d insisted on a very casual and informal gathering this morning, thus our simple outfits of jeans for Ethan, and a white eyelet sundress with leather wedges for me. I ended up wearing my hair down, because he had indeed laid a significant hickey on the side of my neck, and I certainly didn’t feel like sharing it with others the morning after my wedding night. It would only serve to feed more fuel to their imaginings of how I’d earned it. Nope. I was too private for that kind of nonsense. And Ethan’s remorse later over marking me up, after the fact, always struck me as a little surprising too. For a man so dominant during sex, he sure worried about me a lot. I had told him over and over that if he ever went too far, I’d let him know, but I’m not sure he really and truly believed me. Oh, Ethan, what am I going to do with you?
He never took his hands off me the whole time. As we chatted from place to place in the room, he always had an arm tucked around my waist, or a hand at my back. He would press kisses into my hair and brush up and down the side of my bare arm with his hand if we were idle. He just seemed to need it, and for whatever reasons, the idea that he needed to touch me in order to feel comfort, was extremely powerful in my own journey of emotional healing. I felt much loved and very cherished as we made our way around to thank everyone.
Even my mother managed to be happy for us.
“Oh, darling, what a pretty dress you’ve chosen to go away in. I love the cutwork at the hem,” she gushed.
The cutwork at the hem? Seriously? “Ahhh, thanks, Mom. You know me, I like things brutally simple,” I told her as I accepted a hug. It wasn’t lost on me that Ethan and my mother didn’t really acknowledge each other. They had a wary truce of sorts for the moment, both of them intelligent enough to get through the wedding without adding to the drama. Poor Ethan; he’d inherited a monster-in-law, and now had to tolerate her for life.
My mother frowned at my answer, just a tad mind you, but still qualified as a frown by my standards, her unlined face not even hinting to her true age of forty-four. She looked much younger. “But you could wear anything right now, Brynne. You should take advantage of it while you still can.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, my mother realized her mistake and started fidgeting with my hair. She’d managed to bring up my pregnancy, and avoid it like the white elephant in the room that it most definitely was, both at the same time. Bravo, Mom. Why couldn’t she be even a little bit more like my Aunt Marie? Marie didn’t judge, didn’t make me feel like an irresponsible slut for getting pregnant before I was married, and didn’t pretend she wasn’t going to be a grandmother in another six months. “I don’t know why you don’t wear your hair up, darling; it would give just the right touch of elegance to that neckline—”
Mom’s eyes widened. And then she dropped the bun of my hair she’d been arranging like it was radioactive waste. As my hair settled back down around my neck, she shoved Frank forward to give his congratulations. Guess the giant hickey had freaked her shit right out. Was it bad I had to stifle the urge to tell her how good it had felt when Ethan gave it to me?
I wished for a tiny moment I could indulge in one of those mimosas people were drinking with their breakfast.
My stepfather, Frank, kissed me on the cheek and told me I was a beautiful bride. As much as I tried to appreciate his gesture I felt a sudden clawing ache for my own father, who wasn’t here. And whom I’d never see again.
Ethan thanked them both for coming and sensed my need to move on. He was so good with reading me. I felt nothing but relief when we made our way over to Neil and Elaina.
“You’re still walkin’, mate,” Neil teased, delivering a hearty clap to Ethan’s back.
“Indeed I am.” Ethan returned a half hug, half back-slap to his friend and partner.
But Neil wasn’t done with the tongue-in-cheek I was pretty sure. I’d seen these two in action for the last months and they went ’round and ’round all the time. “So, how did he do, Brynne?” Neil asked me, before breaking out in a snickering laugh. “You look absolutely glowing this morning by the way.”
Elaina smacked her fiancé’s arm and told him to shush.
I laughed back and told Neil a lady never tells, before accepting hugs and kisses from our closest friends as a couple. Neil worked with Ethan as partners in Blackstone Security, while Elaina and I had hit it off from nearly day one. They lived right across the hall from us in London and we spent a lot of dinners and down time together.
“In six weeks or so we’ll be doing this again, only then it will be you two that are fielding all the wedding night innuendo comments,” I said to Neil, reminding him that his own special day was right around the corner.
Neil grinned widely and pulled Elaina up against his big body. “I kn
ow, and I’m counting the days ’til I can make this one an honest woman.”
“Ha, more like Elaina making an honest man out of you, my friend,” Ethan shot back.
“That’s true, but you’ll finally get to bring Brynne up to Scotland so she can see the place.”
“Trust me, Neil, I would give just about anything to be up there in beautiful Scotland right now, seeing your place and enjoying your post-wedding breakfast,” I told him truthfully.
I looked over at Ethan and we shared a co-conspirator smile, because it had been originally their idea to have the overnight weekend thing in the first place. Neil owned a great estate up in Scotland, and since people were coming all the way up there, they had organized a guest sleepover for their wedding, too. It’d sounded like a nice idea at the time.
“Why’s that?” Neil and Elaina asked together.
“You’ll find out,” Ethan and I answered innocently.
“AND Gaby, is where? I need to say goodbye.” I’d scanned the room repeatedly for my best friend but she was nowhere that I could see.
“That’s a really good question,” Ethan answered. “For that matter, where in the hell is Ivan?”
I shrugged. “Looks like our best man and maid of honor have ditched this party for greener pastures.” I giggled. “Maybe they’re off ditching together. That would be interesting.”
“I know, right? Gabrielle is Ivan’s flavor for sure.”
“I could swear I was picking up on a vibe between them last night when I was with Ben, and we were stalking them as Simon was snapping candid pictures. Do you think your cousin and my friend just might have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on?”
“If they do, Ivan hasn’t said a word to me about it. But, there was that night at the Mallerton Gala when the alarm went off. I always wondered what happened with the two of them, because I saw them both within seconds of each other coming from the same direction, when we were all running out. Like maybe they were together…”
“You never told me that, Ethan.” I shook my head at him in disbelief. “Honestly, you men just don’t tell details very well at all.”
“Well, it wasn’t important at the time, baby. I was a little preoccupied on finding you.” He pulled me against him and kissed me firmly on the lips, making me forget we were in a very public room of people watching us, until the tinkling of silverware on crystal rang out to remind us. I felt my face flush, and heard Ethan groan as we pulled apart, muttering something under his breath about “four more fucking hours.”
“There they are. Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have arrived finally.” Ethan’s dad, Jonathan, opened his arms and embraced us in a three-way hug. “You did it, my dears. And very well too, I might add.” He kissed me on the cheek and clapped Ethan on the back, meeting him eye to eye, man to man, in a moment of silent communication, which they both understood without a shadow of a doubt.
I could only guess as to what they were both thinking, but I had my theories. They were acknowledging Ethan’s mother as being here with them, for this special occasion along the road of his life’s journey. Jonathan looked up at the ceiling for just a split second, before nodding to Ethan. I saw Ethan return the gesture to his dad, and then I felt a squeeze to my hand from him.
My hand which had remained clasped so very tightly in his because he’d never let go of it.
And so we began our marriage, on a summer’s day in late August, just barely four months after laying our eyes upon one another for the first time. It had all begun across a crowded room one night in the spring—at a gallery tucked away on a London street—when fate had stepped in and forever changed the course of our lives.
CHAPTER 4
30th August
Italian Riviera
THE Italian sun shining down upon the village of Porto Santo Stefano warmed me, and although the view of the rock islands in the small cove was stunning, I didn’t want to open my eyes and see it. I was too warm and sleepy, too perfectly content to even think about anything but letting myself indulge in the peace we had finally found. What a difference a little under a week made.
Ethan and I were in a very perfect place at the moment…where we didn’t have to panic about what we needed to do, or what bad thing could happen to us, or be shocked about what already had happened to us.
Yes, my life couldn’t compare to any resemblance of what it had been four short months ago, but then again, I was blissfully in love with my new husband and, after the initial shockwave of finding out we were going to be parents wore off, very much in love with that idea, too. I reached for my belly and rubbed over it gently. We had a peach for about two more days. After that? It was onward into lemon territory. My next appointment with Dr. Burnsley wasn’t for another month, and even though the scans might be able to show the sex of the baby that early, I was determined not to find out. I wanted to be surprised, and nobody was changing my mind on the matter. I’d told Ethan he could find out if he wanted to, but he’d better keep the knowledge to himself. He’d just given me a slightly bewildered look that probably meant something like, I love you, but you are downright scary right now, baby, and changed the subject. Such a man. But he was my man, and that was the important thing. We’d get through this frightening process of becoming parents together.
And so here I was, sunning on a private Italian beach at an exclusive villa, expecting that my man might bring me a cool drink when he finished his swim. Not bad, Mrs. Blackstone. I still hardly believed the name was real. The Mrs. Blackstone part was something Ethan took to heart because he sure said it a lot.
I squinted at my wedding ring and spun it around on my finger. I’m married now. To Ethan. We’re having a baby sometime toward the end of February. I wondered when, and if, the disbelief would ever wear off.
I turned my head the other way, readjusted myself on my side, and closed my eyes again, prepared to soak up some more of the glorious Italian sunshine, so abundant here, as opposed to where we lived. Autumn was just around the corner, and then the dreary days of winter in London would be fast on its heels. The time to enjoy the lovely sun was right now, so that’s what I did.
I let my mind wander, going to a place where everything was happy and easy, and tried to put all of the other things that were not happy and easy, away on their respective shelves, locked up tight in that scary cabinet I hated to open. The one for all the bad stuff to sit and gather some dust for a while—the worries about the regrets of life, the losses and the grief, the desperately poor decisions that had been made, and the consequences that resulted from those choices…
ICY drops falling onto my shoulder brought me out of my floaty sleep on the beach. Ethan must be back with my drink. I opened an eye and looked up at him blocking the sun from my body, not appreciating the shocking greeting, and taking in his stern expression. God, he was a beautiful man with his hard lines of muscle and golden skin. I could look at him for years and never be content with the looking. And the complete unconcern with what others might think of him made the combination all the more attractive. Ethan was no pretty boy who got satisfaction out of fawning admirers. And they were frickin’ everywhere. And not only women, either. Plenty of men admired my husband, too. He was oblivious to it all.
“What did you bring me?” I muttered.
He ignored my question and handed me a bottle of cold water. “Time for more sun block, you’re getting a tad pink.”
“You’re just saying that so you can roam your hands all over me,” I said.
He dropped down next to my towel and raised a brow. “You’re fucking right about that, my beauty.”
I sipped some water and closed my eyes as he applied sunscreen all over my shoulders and arms, and relished the feel of his hands on my body. His hands. His touch. The feel of Ethan’s hands on me still rendered me weak. No wonder I was unable to resist him when he pursued me in the beginning. It had been like that from the first for me…with Ethan. His searing gaze across the room at me that night in the Andersen Ga
llery, the coercion on the street to accept a ride home from a virtual stranger, the way he steered me with a firm hand to my back into his Rover, and demanded I eat the food and water he bought for me, that first demanding kiss in the Shire’s Building hallway, how he took those rights to touch me as if they were his due, with no apology for overstepping social boundaries. That was how Ethan has always been with me.
Ethan’s “claiming” of me had occurred in a way that I understood right from the beginning, even if it seemed ridiculous and unbelievable such a man would be in pursuit of me personally, it still made sense to me when I accepted my fate with Ethan James Blackstone. He had a way of asserting his ownership of me whenever he touched me. Felt like heaven.
“That feels so good.”
He grated under his breath. “I agree. Now turn over.”
I rolled for him and brought my arm over my face to shield the sun. He worked in the sunscreen carefully, making sure he covered every area. When he got to my chest, he dipped his purposeful fingers below the bra of my suit and brushed over my sensitive nipples—back and forth until they budded up high and tight, making me shiver for more.
“Are you taking advantage of me out in public view now?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he answered, scooting onto my towel to kiss me, “I am taking advantage of you on a very private beach, where nobody will bother us.”
He moved his hands up to take down the straps of my top. Open it fell, and then the glorious rasp of his whiskers brushed the area around my nipple as he teased it. There was a sharp internal zing at first touch now; due to the pregnancy I was sure. My nipples felt different when he started, but after that first jolt faded away, his sucking and nipping felt just as good as it always had. I ran my hands through his hair as he rained kisses over my breasts, loving his attentions.
“Just so you know, Blackstone, there won’t be any sex happening on this beach right now.”
