by Ivy Carter
It’s a good thing I’m not wearing much makeup because I am a slobbering mess by the time our little ceremony is over and the judge has declared us husband and wife. When we kiss, Betty lets out a little whoop of joy.
Jackson carries me across the threshold, even though I tell him it is not necessary.
“I’m not even wearing a wedding gown,” I say.
“All the more reason to go through with the tradition,” he says.
He takes me upstairs to the bedroom and lays me on the bed. He pulls my sweater and boots from my body. He runs his hands down my arms and across my belly.
“My wife,” he whispers.
Jackson makes love to me slowly, like we have all the time in the world. And we do—we have a lifetime together.
Afterward, we are lazing in an afternoon post-coital haze of tangled sheets and sweat drying to our naked bodies. We both jump when the phone rings.
“God, I can’t remember the last time I heard a land line ring,” I say.
Jackson hops into a pair of flannel pants and walks across the room to a little table, on which sits a black old-fashioned phone.
“Hello?” Jackson says. I figure it must either be a wrong number or maybe Sandra calling from the office, checking to see when—if—he’s coming back. “Is that totally necessary?” he says. His face has changed—his features are pinched, no longer relaxed. “It has nothing to do with me…. When would I have to be there? That soon? Alright…fine, I’ll call for the jet…. I’ll be there.”
When he hangs up he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Everything okay?” I ask. When he looks back at me the old familiar heaviness is creeping into his eyes. It’s the heaviness he wears with his business, and when he talks about his family. “Jackson? What is it?”
He comes back to bed, sitting on the edge. “It was the family attorney. I have to go to Los Angeles to meet with him and my brothers.”
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“He said they’re going to decide the fate of the company.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with us, does it?” I ask. “I mean, we just got married.” I know rich powerful people have long arms into some shady stuff, but there’s no way anyone would know we just got married today, out in a little town on a little island.
“No, no one knows about us,” Jackson says. “Which means it’s something else. But I have no idea what.”
I reach across and take his hand. “Hey, listen. We’re a team now. No matter what happens, I’m here with you. Okay?”
He looks at me, and the comfort is immediate. He squeezes my hand back. “Okay,” he says, nodding.
But it’s something more. Something isn’t right. I don’t know what will happen at that meeting in Los Angeles, but I know one thing is sure—nothing will ever get between Jackson and me ever again. We’re too strong together, both of us too determined to make our own happiness.
“Now get back in these covers and make love to me,” I say, hoping to get his mind off that phone call, if only for a little while.
When he looks at me I can see his features relaxing again. He moves over to me and covers my body with his. “Whatever you require, my love,” he says, “I’m here to provide.”
THE END OF BOOK ONE
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