She Belongs to Me

by Carmen DeSousa

  “Bobby?” Lorraine interrupted his pace around the office. “I know we leave early on Saturday, but I have a few things to organize. Can y’all deal without me today?” The calm tone of her voice amazed her. She felt nothing but sorrow and heartbreak and wanted to scream and hit something—someone.

  Bobby waved her off. “Sure thing, Lorraine. We’ll see you Monday.” He turned his attention back to Ronny and John as she gathered up her purse and car keys. “She’s probably tall with long platinum hair,” Bobby rambled.

  “From Florida, yeah that and she’s most likely tanned with baby blue eyes,” Ronny added, wiggling his eyebrows.

  John smacked Ronny on the back. “Every time I went to Florida for Spring Break, the babes all had rockin’ bodies. I’m sure she’s hot,” John completed the appraisal.

  Ugh, men, Lorraine seethed silently. Jordan wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t talk about another man’s wife-to-be. The tears streamed down her face relentlessly. She probably wasn’t a witch at all. Jordan wouldn’t have fallen for fraudulence. She was, however, undoubtedly prettier than words. Lorraine charged out of the construction trailer, jumped into her car and raced out of the parking lot entirely too fast. She heard the North Carolina red clay as it splattered against the undercarriage of her car, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to escape.

  ***

  Jaynee held onto Jordan’s hand as he trailed her through the luggage pickup and to the rental counter. He had a rental car waiting and drove them to the front entrance of the lavish resort. After handing the keys to the valet, Jordan escorted Jaynee to the front desk. Every square inch of the lobby had decorative, ornate moldings and marble, along with aged stone sculptures and re-creations of Italian artwork as far as she could see. A potent scent, reminiscent of jasmine and lavender, filled the air. It was very relaxing. Jaynee felt it working on her senses, even as butterflies swarmed her stomach.

  It was rather busy, but the female clerk accepted papers from Jordan with a smile. “Welcome to the Venetian,” the woman said in a singsong voice. “You’ll be staying in a Venetian Luxury View. The suite has a king-size bed, is non-smoking, and you have a lovely view of the Venetian’s Private Pool and Gardens.” Embarrassed by the gleam in the woman’s eyes, Jaynee looked down shyly as she handed them cardkeys and various pamphlets of information.

  “Isn’t this incredible?” Jordan paused in the lobby, with its overflowing archways and painted ceilings. They lingered around the shops and leaned against the railing, watching lovers in Venice-style gondolas serenaded by the gondoliers.

  When they finally made it to their suite, he held the door open, allowing her to enter first.

  “Do you like it?” were his first words.

  Jaynee was in awe. “It’s beautiful, Jordan.” She opened the first door after walking through the short hall. The bathroom—four times larger than hers, larger than most homes she had been in—held a gigantic garden tub surrounded by marble, and then there were double vanities, a separate shower and water closet.

  She walked further into the room and saw an enormous bed with a canopy flush against the ceiling, draping down the back of the bed—it filled half the room. Across from the bed, was a sunken sitting room with an L-shaped sofa, dinette and a large window overlooking the pool and gardens.

  “So…” Jordan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “How ’bout we go find you a dress?”

  She exhaled in relief at the feel of his arms and his words. He wasn’t upset about what she’d said on the plane. He’d been so quiet on the ride to the hotel; she’d worried. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was. “Can I pick out my dress?” she teased, turning around in his arms.

  “As long as you promise not to worry about the price but agree to select the loveliest dress since you have to choose one off-the-rack.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you know about off-the-rack?”

  “I have two sisters, remember. Believe me; I’ve seen all the drama when it comes to women. My one sister—never mind…I don’t want to scare you. Let’s just say she’s a prima donna.” He gave her a kiss on the top of the head. “Let’s clean up and go shopping.”

  After they freshened up, they drove to a promising looking boutique the front desk recommended. Jordan handed her a credit card as she stepped out of the car. “I ordered one with your name on it. They shipped it overnight, so it’ll be here Monday.”

  Again, Jaynee was speechless. Did the man think of everything? She leaned back into the car at his expectant look and kissed him. “You’ll be back in an hour, right?”

  “You sure that’s long enough?”

  Jaynee backed up and stood upright. “Yes, I’m a fast shopper.”

  He smiled at her comment then waited until she entered the shop before he drove away.

  She had no lack of assistance finding the perfect dress. The sales ladies selected several gowns another woman assured her would look magnificent. When she finally chose a favorite, they measured Jaynee and guaranteed her they’d have the dress altered perfectly and shipped back to her suite immediately.

  Jaynee had never heard of such a thing. She thought for sure she would have to just deal with the fit. Several more women followed up with an assortment of different shoes, lingerie, garter belts and veils while the other woman watched over them.

  She stared incredulously at the woman whom she could only assume was the owner or manager. The woman made sure Jaynee received more attention than she ever received in any store. Her standard attire of jeans and a t-shirt rarely got her waited on, often overlooked several times before she would march up to a counter and demand service. But here, the ladies were falling over her. She made eye contact with the woman, summoning her with a crook of her finger.

  “He called you, didn’t he?” Jaynee questioned the woman in wild disbelief, trying to sound casual.

  The manager could not disguise her sheepish grin. “Yes, and you are not to leave until you have everything.”

  The woman smiled with delight, obviously a romantic and evidently appreciated men like Jordan. Jaynee wondered if it was the amount of the purchase or had he promised a large tip as well? She smiled in spite of herself, happily. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered a prayer. “Thank you, for finding what I could not and throwing him in front of me. This had to be You.”

  A man walked in carrying a note and a single red rose looking for one Jaynee Evans. She requested her purse to give him a tip, but he put his hands up in defiance. “Already handled, ma’am,” the man said, grinning.

  The ladies swooned as she opened the letter, insisting she read it to them. Whilst they poked, maneuvered and prodded her in different directions, she read it aloud.

  Jaynee, it’s a surprise so it should be acceptable. I arranged for your return to the hotel and made an appointment at the spa. It is your wedding day after all, so it should be extraordinary. I will meet you in the gardens at 7:00 PM sharp. I will be the one in black and white with the largest smile on his face waiting for his bride.

  Love, Jordan

  Jaynee laughed softly. He was going to take the “surprise” comment to his own level. The man was incredible. Again, she could not comprehend how she’d managed to be so fortunate after so many years of pain.

  Jordan booked the spa package called Euphoria; a treatment meant to indulge every sense in a luxurious ritual, consisting of an aromatic scalp massage and a warm botanical body mask, later washed away in an exquisitely prepared bath. Then she would receive a light, soothing massage using herb-infused oils.

  Next stop facial. She selected the Total Elegant Facial, knowing how some excessive treatments could leave her face blotchy, and she just wanted to look radiant. Jordan ordered food too. But since she could feel the butterflies already swarming in her stomach, she just nibbled at a few pieces.

  Jordan also booked her a hair appointment, evidently anything she wanted according to the spa coordinator. Though the stylist tried to talk her into high
lights, Jaynee settled for a shampoo, trim and style not wanting to change her appearance.

  Lastly, a manicure and spa pedicure which was one of Jaynee’s ultimate ideas of relaxing. The manicurist attempted to convince her into painting her nails, but as always, she just requested a buff and shine. However, appreciating the way it made her feet look so dainty and clean, she did opt for the French pedicure.

  It was almost seven when she was finished.

  Jaynee had just enough time to return to the room, throw on her dress and meet Jordan in the gardens—wherever they were. She gawked at the mirror hardly recognizing her face, it was blushed and glowing from the treatments, but there was something else. She was happy, and she could see the light in her eyes.

  A knock on the door startled her. She peeped through and saw a steward dressed in a tuxedo. “Yes?” she whispered, opening the door cautiously.

  “Per your groom’s request, I am here to escort you to the gardens, Miss.”

  He wouldn’t even allow her to get lost in the hotel. Amazing. “Thank you. I’ll be right out.” She inhaled deeply and took one final look at herself before leaving the room for the last time as a single woman.

  63

  Carmen DeSousa

  Chapter Eleven

  The area, designed to look like a small chapel set in the midst of a summer garden, overflowed with lush greenery and flowering plants.

  Jaynee thought she might have missed a large wedding with family and friends, but she didn’t.

  It was just God, Jordan and her. The staff provided her with a beautiful bouquet, and the garden smelled of roses and freesia.

  Jaynee looked up as she started her walk toward Jordan. He inhaled deeply, and then his eyes were wide with delight as a brilliant smile spread across his face. He was so extraordinarily handsome in his tuxedo, and amazing as it seemed, he wanted her, forever.

  Jordan marveled as Jaynee advanced the small path while violins and a harp played a soft rendition of Wagner’s Wedding March.

  She took his breath way. Not only was she stunning, she was his—forever. He had wanted to give her a large wedding, but at the same time, the thought of making her his wife today exhilarated him.

  He didn’t want to wait months to prepare a wedding. The thought of leaving Florida without her, terrified him. What if those thugs came back and hurt her?

  As Jaynee approached, her grandmother’s comments earlier invaded his thoughts. She had walked over to talk to him while Jaynee was inside packing. Gram understood why Jaynee didn’t want a big wedding, but she’d assured Jordan that even though Jaynee felt abandoned by her parents, her remaining family had taken her in as their own.

  Jordan assured her grandmother that he would do what he could to make everything right. Gram had hugged him then, requesting he take care of Jaynee, explaining no matter how tough she acted, a hurt little girl hid under her bravado. He promised a solemn vow that no one would ever hurt Jaynee again.

  When the preacher announced, “You may kiss the bride.” Jordan felt triumphant. He held Jaynee secure in his arms as he kissed her with everything in him, then pulled back to look at her face. He was not surprised to see tears, but was happy they were tears of joy. He was amazed, however, that his eyes too watered up, just a light glaze giving away his emotions.

  Jordan escorted Jaynee toward the exit as the soft melody settled into the triumphant ending of the wedding march. He walked her to the front of the hotel where a white Hummer limousine waited for them.

  “Where’re we going, Jordan?” Jaynee looked puzzled as the chauffeur opened the door

  “Uh-uh. My evening, remember?” He nuzzled his face into her neck as he helped her up into the vehicle. From the Venetian, Jordan planned to take her to a restaurant called Michael Mina Bellagio, supposedly the most romantic restaurant in Vegas, according to his research.

  Once they arrived, they strolled through the botanical gardens as they awaited their table. It was incredibly difficult to keep his eyes, let alone his hands to himself. All he could think was this magnificent woman was his. He wanted to proclaim it loudly for all to hear. His joy was so overpowering he was certain Jaynee would think him insane; surely, she could see his elation. He wanted nothing more than to carry her to the room, but he needed this evening to be special. She had given up everything for him; he needed her to believe in happiness.

  After dinner, he whisked her back to the waiting limo and they were off to Vegas’ version of the Eiffel Tower. There, they had a wonderful view of the water show at the Bellagio.

  He produced a bottle of champagne from inside his jacket he’d hid when they got out of the limo. “I wasn’t sure if you drank, but I thought it was appropriate.”

  “I don’t drink much, but I do enjoy champagne. Just don’t let me drink too much; I get frisky.”

  “Oh?” he mused, his eyebrows rising. “Well then, I guess I just won’t let you out of my sight. Not that I was planning on that anyway, my bride.” He poured them both a glass but set his down after only a few sips. He brushed her hair off her neck then cupped her face with his palm, pulling her lips to his. “I love you, Jaynee. Thank you for marrying me.”

  She leaned her head into his palm and sighed. “I love you too, Jordan. Thank you for asking.”

  Jaynee leaned back against Jordan, thankful when he draped his jacket over her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her, as it was getting chilly.

  When the water show ended, he lowered his lips to her ear. “Would you like a gondola ride, or is there something else you want to do?” His honey-sweet accent was smooth and seductive, sending chills down her entire body.

  She tilted her head up to look at him. “We can do that tomorrow I suppose. I’d like to retire to the room, with my husband.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” His warm breath caressed her neck. His teeth grazed her lobe as his lips eagerly moved their way down the line of her jaw as he turned her toward him, finding her lips. He pulled back after only a moment. “Let’s go.”

  Back at the Venetian, Jordan led Jaynee back to the room, trailing them around the shops and gardens. Characters dressed in renaissance-era clothing roamed the streets, occasionally breaking into opera style singing Jaynee wasn’t too fond of, but it was interesting.

  A mime approached, clearly recognizing them as newlyweds. He swayed his hips as if they should dance.

  “Shall we?” The question was rhetorical. Instead of waiting for an answer, Jordan twirled her out once then pulled her back into his arms as he lowered her gracefully into a dip, his strong arms secured around her.

  The mime jumped up and down, clapping his hands noiselessly then proceeded to make a mock display as if tapping on a glass, beckoning them to kiss. Jordan obliged, and a cheer emerged from the surrounding crowd Jaynee hadn’t noticed had gathered. Jordan stepped back and bowed, pulling her with him.

  “Jordan, you’re crazy.” She let out a laugh. “And a ham! Can we go?” she pleaded. Not accustomed to the spotlight, she could feel heat fill her cheeks.

  “If you insist, my lady.” He waved the crowd off and pulled her to his side again.

  Finally, they made their way to the room. Although it shouldn’t have taken her by surprise, she felt the wind rush out of her when he swung her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold of their suite. She hadn’t even noticed him open the door.

  He carried her down the hall but then just stood there holding her, gazing into her eyes.

  “Welcome home, my bride.” His eyes were bright and excited.

  Jordan held her close and kissed her passionately now that they were in private. She couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t able to decide what to do with her now that he had her exactly where he wanted.

  “Are you happy?” she asked, breathless.

  His warm smile was confirmation enough, but he answered anyway, “Exceedingly so, and you, my love?”

  “Extremely, kiss me again, Jordan.”

  His lips were ex
ultant, his breath heavy. She could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he carried her to the bed, sitting her upright, his lips never leaving hers.

  “Ah, traditions,” he groaned, pulling back slightly. He lifted her dress just high enough to expose the garter wrapped around her thigh. Ever so gently, his strong hands moved up her leg. His fingers lingered under the lace, tracing a circle around her thigh then slowly he pulled the garter lower. Her heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts wild as his hands traced the exposed skin down her leg. Her flesh tingled with anticipation.

  He lifted her onto the middle of the bed and proceeded to remove his jacket, never withdrawing his eyes from hers as he laid it on a nearby chair. He slid in beside her, his head perched on his arm. With unhurried movements, he used his other hand to trace her collarbone and bare shoulders, lowering his lips to her neck. His kisses were more persuasive as he nudged her chin up with his nose and buried his mouth deeper under the thick tresses of her hair.

  “Jaynee.” He let out a feral gasp, as a whoosh of air escaped his lungs. “No man could possibly want his wife this much.”

  He pulled her up so she was also on her side. His arm slipped under her head, supporting her as his other hand pulled her face to his, his lips finding hers. She felt his tongue glide over her lips, exploring. She parted her mouth, an invitation.

  Without hesitation, his mouth was hard on hers. His hand gripped the back of her head as his fingers intertwined in her hair. Her body thrilled with delight; his kissing alone was enough to take her being to another dimension. She breathed in his warmth as he reacted to every thought she had conscious and unconscious.

  His hand slid down from her hair to her back, trailing across the bare skin, searching and wanting. Very slowly, his eyes searching hers, he placed his fingers on the zipper at the back of her dress.

  “May I,” his voice emerged, subdued, breathless. He didn’t have to ask, but she assumed he wanted her verbal consent, the perfect gentleman.