Taking her hand in his, he looked into her eyes and asked seriously, “Will you marry me?”
Whitney raised her chin, an aloof expression on her face. “Well, I don’t know—”
He laughed, encircling her waist and pulling her to him. He hardly noticed the ache in his shoulder. “Shut up and kiss me.”
“Is it always going to be like this—you issuing orders?”
He thought about it. “No, sometimes you get to say shut up and kiss me.”
Her eyes were shining with tears again, but they were good tears, happy tears. He considered himself a modern man. He knew the difference.
“Why don’t you?” she urged.
He wanted to be completely sure. With Whitney, at times, it was hard to tell what she actually meant. “Is that a yes?”
She took his face in her hands, her heart swelling. He did love her. It was going to be all right, just as he’d promised her it would be.
“If you don’t know by now, partner, then I guess there’re still a few things about me you’re going to have to learn.”
He grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The lessons began immediately.
Epilogue
She would have let him out of it. Whitney was so drunk on happiness and love that she would have let Zane out of his proposal for a while if he’d wanted it. She would have been perfectly content to savor the thought of actually becoming his wife. There was no real rush to make the marriage a reality.
But Zane didn’t want out. He wanted in. And he wanted it all immediately. He wanted Whitney and all the trimmings that went with a formal wedding: the flowers, the music, the church, even the rice.
“They don’t throw rice at weddings anymore,” Whitney had pointed out during the long, elaborate negotiations they had conducted beneath the hotel’s silk sheets as the euphoria of lovemaking held them, exhausted but contented, in its grip. “They throw confetti.”
“As long as it’s nothing lethal, I can live with it,” Zane had concluded just before he found himself reaching for her again.
So it was settled.
Two days later, because Sheridan had connections that reached far and wide, Zane and Whitney found themselves exchanging vows before an elfin priest complete with an Irish brogue. The man couldn’t have fitted in better with the scene than if he’d been sent over from central casting. He was almost too perfect.
As Zane caught Whitney’s hand and she ran beside him out of the church, she made a mental note to have the priest’s credentials verified. Just in case.
Outside the picturesque hundred-year-old church, an army of their friends and associates joined together for a single purpose. To pelt the newlyweds with tiny, multicolored squares. The color began raining on them as soon as Whitney and Zane emerged from the building. It followed them on their run down the steps, to the curb.
But at the white limousine that was scheduled to take them to the reception hall, Zane held up his hand. After another thirty seconds, the hail of color subsided.
“I want to kiss my wife,” he announced. “And I want to do it without risking getting a mouthful of confetti.”
The announcement was met with cheers, hoots and a variety of noises that defied description or categorizing.
“How did Sheridan manage all this?” Whitney whispered to Zane. She was still stunned at the speed with which it had all been arranged. There was no three-day waiting period, no blood tests, nothing. Every obstacle had been circumvented.
Zane looked over her head toward Sheridan. “The man goes to great lengths to keep his people happy and working smoothly.” He winked at her. “I think maybe he expects our firstborn in return.”
Whitney laughed, throwing her arms around Zane’s s neck. She didn’t think it was possible to be this happy. “It is legal, isn’t it?”
He grinned, pulling her to him. “Just try to get out of it and you’ll see exactly how legal and binding it is.”
“Maybe I will,” she countered. “In about a hundred years.”
“Sounds fair enough to me.”
“Shut up and kiss her already!” Sheridan shouted at them. “You can talk later.”
“I think our benefactor just made a request.” Zane nodded toward Sheridan.
Whitney didn’t even bother turning to look. She was too busy looking at Zane and feeling her heart swell. This time, there were no doubts, no worries, as there had been before. This time, it felt real. The love, the happiness, all real. “Always keep them happy—that’s my motto.”
“I try,” Zane whispered against her lips just before he kissed her. “I surely do try.”
“After all this, you’d better do more than try,” she warned, a smile playing on her lips.
And he did.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7228-6
THE AMNESIAC BRIDE
Copyright © 1997 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
“What is it about us, Zane?” Wbitney looked at bim accusingly. “What is it abou
Letter to Reader
Books by Marie Ferrarella
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Copyright
The Amnesiac Bride Page 21
