I put both hands up over my mouth, but I couldn’t stop the sobs—happy sobs—that were hiccupping out. Hilary was right. It wasn’t me who was at risk of a heartbreak. It was Max. He had nothing, not even a pair of aces, but he was still betting everything he had on me. On love. And I was so ridiculously happy in that moment, I wanted to hug his mother.
But I stopped myself.
Just.
Still, I blurted, “I adore him.”
“But you’ve only known him—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Actually, nothing mattered. Nothing but Max. I pulled in a shaky breath, and I suddenly realized we had years.
Forever.
I reached out and took her hand. She was startled, but she didn’t pull back.
“Please Hilary. Can I call you Hilary?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Can you believe that I love him?”
Her smile was slow, and looked reluctant. “I can see that. It’s shining in your eyes. But you didn’t look like that in the television interview.”
“Neither did he. We were both under pressure. But that’s over now. In an hour I’ll be Mrs. Banks and then I can stop worrying that this is a dream.”
She gazed at me a moment longer, and I could see something happening, some happiness on her side that she was so much better at holding in than me. But she finally squeezed my hand and let it go, nodding to herself for a moment before she said, “You’ll be good for him, and it’s about time somebody was. I’m embarrassed to admit that my alcoholism has caused him financial and emotional burden. But this time rehab is going to stick.”
She nodded as if to reinforce the idea, and I just nodded back, pleased for her and pleased for Max.
“Alright.” She looked around the room as if she’d been away and was reorienting herself. “I’d best go downstairs to find my seat. And I’ll look forward to having you as a daughter. I’ve never had one before.”
I just grinned. “I’m unpredictable, but I’m hoping you’ll come to like me.”
“If you love Max, I like you already,” she said, then she nodded again and left.
Jill poked her head in and I couldn’t stop myself grinning. “Hurry the fuck up. I want to get married.”
I was giddy. The fear was gone, and in its place was all the excitement that had been between us at my cottage. I wanted to run downstairs and rush through whatever the process was to get that ring on my finger. I wanted Max in my arms. And boy did I want that wedding night.
So when the girls came in, I hustled them into helping me, and despite their shock at my emotional transformation, they tidied my makeup in record time, although Jill told me three times to stop grinning so she could touch up my lipstick, before she gave up.
Angela put my sheath of elegant white roses in my arms and we headed out of the suite, but on the way to the door I caught a glance of myself in a gilded wall mirror. The simplicity of the silver chiffon and lace gown and my loose curls falling around my shoulders focused attention on my face, which Jill had left pale. My eyelashes were very dark, however, and that gave me a wide-eyed, almost childlike expression, which coupled with my unstoppable grin, made me look like a kid racing downstairs on Christmas morning.
Of course, I wanted to run, but instead we had to follow the staff member down the wide silver-carpeted stairway where I kept my chin up, knowing the cameras would turn up somewhere along the route. Sure enough, at the bottom of the stairs were photographers and cameramen, following our progress as we reached the foyer and then crossed it in a stately fashion.
Each of my girls was lined up ahead of me, Louella floating along elegantly, Angela so sexy with that swaying walk of hers, and then Jill who kept turning back to wink at me, her grin as wide as mine.
Louella had taught me to count two seconds between footsteps, and the fact that I was barefoot—my one insistence, to ground myself—helped me balance when I wanted to skip! Then we reached the grand ballroom and I heard music swell from inside, and my heart—which was already fizzing like champagne—soared.
I had a moment of wondering if I was going to faint—I felt so lightheaded—when the man who would be walking me down the aisle stepped into view up ahead.
Jill looked over her shoulder at me and mouthed, “What the fuck?”
I knew she would be grinding her teeth, but her ex, Doug, was my friend, and I sure as hell didn’t want my own father giving me away.
As each of them walked past him he nodded. “Louella. Angela. Jinx.” Then I reached his side and he held out his arm. “You look pretty,” he said awkwardly.
“You too.” I’d forgotten how far his ears stuck out, but at least this black suit wasn’t as regrettable as the last one I’d seen him in. Or at least, Jill hadn’t chided him on the way past. Although, she probably would later if Finn let her near him. For some reason, none of my girls’ husbands liked Doug, and they had no reason to be jealous. He was lovable, but no match for their hunky handsomeness.
He was, however, a solid friend, and I took comfort from the fact that he’d weather embarrassment with the girls to be my support person. “Thanks for this,” I said as I took his arm. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
The cameras were behind us as we stepped inside the majestic ballroom with its sparkling chandeliers and wall to ceiling windows showcasing a sweeping vista of Blue Mountains beyond. There were hundreds of elegantly dressed guests—far more than I’d expected—but nothing was going to distract my attention from the black-clad figure at the end of that silver carpet.
I might want to play spot the celebrity later, but in that moment, Max was my whole world and I couldn’t stop grinning at him, wanting him to know I was so Squee! my heart could hardly hold in the feeling. And the way he was looking at me, as if I was enchanting…
I couldn’t stop myself blinking back tears, thinking about everything I’d wanted—a fairytale wedding to a scrumptious man—and how this was so much more than I could ever have imagined.
He looked so handsome in a black tuxedo that was modern and slim-lined against that buff frame, accentuating his wide shoulders and slim hips, but his hair was parted and swept back in an old fashioned style more in keeping with my vintage gown and the historic hotel he’d chosen.
I seriously wanted to cry as Doug handed me over, but instead I passed my bouquet to Jill before taking Max’s hands and gazing up into his eyes, promising myself that I would never doubt this man again. How had I not seen this crazy reckless love in his eyes before when it was so obvious now that my fear was gone?
“Freckles,” he whispered with a catch in his voice, holding my hands so gently, so securely as his chest rose and fell.
I wanted to say something, but I was overwhelmed and trembling, so in the end, while the guests were settling back into their seats, I just grinned at him like a crazy woman—crazy in love.
When the service began, his fingers tightened on mine and the intensity in his gaze sharpened, his eyes never leaving mine as the minister rambled through the opening. I’d been given a script, so I knew what to expect, but I wasn’t really listening to the words. I was looking at Max, realizing he looked like a man who was overcome.
He kept forgetting to breathe, and when it was his turn to speak, he had to be prompted. He just looked into my eyes, and that dark, soulful gaze wrapped itself around my heart so fully I couldn’t remember what I’d been scared of.
Then he was saying, “I, Maxwell Fitzwilliam Banks, take you, Fritha Wynde…”
And I stared at him in surprise. Fitzwilliam? That was Darcy’s name. How much more romantic could this man get? I didn’t even have any middle name. My father had told me they couldn’t afford one.
Somehow, despite that distraction, when it was my turn, I managed to stammer my lines, not able to drag my attention away from Max who was holding my gaze as if he needed it to survive. Then he took a ring off the cushion beside us and placed it partway onto my finger.
This is it.
> “With this ring,” he said softly, then he sucked in another deep, ragged breath and swallowed. “I give you my promise…that from this day forward my heart is your shelter and my arms are your home.”
Lord I love this man.
That hadn’t been in the script.
And when he pushed the ring all the way onto my finger and then raised it to his lips to kiss it softly, I tipped over into a bliss I’d never known before, despite all the drugs I’d tried. I’d never loved anyone as much as I loved him in that moment, and even with my girls standing solemnly behind me, I knew I would go anywhere to be with him and do anything to protect him.
I felt wild and fierce and strong.
And that was love.
So when it was my turn to recite my lines, I placed the ring partway onto his finger and said, “With this ring, I give you my promise to love you, to honor you…” which we both knew meant faithfulness, “…and to obey you but only when it suits me.” Because I wanted him to know that this was real to me. I wasn’t just repeating lines.
Then I pushed the ring onto his finger.
There was deathly silence in the room for five seconds before Jill snorted behind me and then titters led to full-blown laughter as the guests picked up on what I’d said.
Max only smiled, and in a voice that was roughened with emotion, said, “That’s more than enough.”
But I was waiting for the end, and when it finally came and he leant down to kiss me—I was barefoot—I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts against him so I could kiss him the way I’d wanted to for days—slow and sweet and desperately sincere.
Above all I wanted him to feel my heart in that kiss, and when he pulled back and looked deep into my eyes, I barely heard the whooping and hollering around us because we were just smiling at each other and the world was perfect.
In that sublime moment, all that existed in my life was love.
Then when the paperwork had been signed and the guests were making their way across to the reception hall, Max took my hand and led me to an anteroom where he closed the door. We were suddenly and unexpectedly alone, and in the warmth of the room I could smell his aftershave and it was so familiar and comforting I wanted to cry.
But before I could, he took both my hands and said, “They can do without us for a moment.”
I just nodded. There was so much to say. I really love you simply didn’t cover it.
“I have to introduce you to some boring celebrities…”
I nodded.
“…and after that the cameras will be banished. They’re not allowed into the reception.”
“Okay.”
He was so tall, and the prim way he held his mouth was making me even more aroused and that didn’t help my concentration. I could feel his thumbs caressing my palms as he held my hands. “How are you travelling, pumpkin?” he asked softly.
And my heart turned over.
His voice was so full of gentle concern, I wanted to cry. I just nodded, barely able to speak. “Fine. Good.” I shrugged awkwardly. “I like married life so far.”
He smiled at that, then said, “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”
I shook my head. What part?
“The cameras.” He nodded toward the closed door beside us. “It’s been invasive, and Dunn was a bastard—”
“He insulted you too.”
Max nodded. “But I’ve got a thick skin. You’re a nymph, remember?” One corner of his mouth quirked up, and for a heart-stuttering moment, I wondered if I’d imagined the whole week of not hearing from him. This was like having back the Max I’d discovered at my cottage—the flirty, honest Max I’d come to trust.
I sucked in an unsteady breath. “You’re a nymph too,” I said, but he just shook his head.
“I’m a prick,” he said softly. “But it’s nice of you to say that.”
And suddenly I had to ask, “Why did you keep away from me all week?”
Because I was aching to touch you.
He sucked in another deep breath and seemed to be searching my eyes. “I didn’t trust myself to just leave you alone to work out whether you wanted me…”
I want you.
“…I could see you had baggage…”
And I could see a world of hurt in his eyes which I felt so sorry for.
“…and if I’d stayed at that penthouse I might have begged, or tried to dazzle you with sex.” His smile was lopsided and infinitely sad.
I suddenly wanted to distract him from pain, so I said, “I like sex.”
“I know.” He lifted my hand and kissed the ring he’d put on my finger. “And trust me, there will be lovemaking. But before that, I wanted you to be sure. I thought you loved me. I hoped—”
“You are perfect for me,” I butted in. “And I love you…more than I ever imagined I could love a man, and then some. I never want us to be apart, and I’m so crazy-sorry that I put you through—”
That was as far as I got before he pulled me into a kiss that was completely X-Rated compared to the alter kiss we’d shared minutes before. This one set me alight from the tips of my tingling bare toes to my scalp where his fingers were restless, sliding through my hair and caressing my nape while his other hand was firm on my butt, jamming me against him.
Then he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, breathing raggedly. “I am so glad I don’t have a weak heart…because that felt like it leapt out of my chest.”
I cupped his face in my hands. “Is that why you didn’t talk to me at the interview with Tug Dunn? You wanted me to sort out my shit?”
“You didn’t trust me,” he said, and shrugged, as if that was just ‘a thing’, when I could see it had hurt him. “You thought I only wanted you for publicity. So when Rosie rang, I agreed to do it. I knew it wouldn’t make any difference to us and I wanted you to see that.”
I stared at him, awed by his audacity, but equally by how smart he was. I would have continued to wonder if he was using me. But now, I didn’t at all.
He frowned at me. “But I was scared.”
I could see that in his eyes, and bad as I’d had it for the last week, it might have been worse for him. If I’d bailed on our wedding, I’d have been able to convince myself of all sorts of lies about him because I’d been so full of doubt. But he knew who I really was. And he loved me. To lose someone you loved like that…well, it would be like me losing him now.
I couldn’t bear that thought so I squeezed his hands and said, “I’m sorry about the past, but the future is coming up strawberries for us, Mr. Banks.”
“And seeing as you married me, I can stop worrying that you don’t love me.”
That made me blink in surprise. “How could you not know?” Could I have been any more obsessive about him?
“Well, perhaps if you stop chatting up Hollywood hunks.” He tried to let go of my hands but I clung.
“Tyler? That puppy? He’s twenty!”
“And built,” Max growled. “I’m not fucking blind.”
I suddenly realized that like Jill, Max might take a bit longer to trust me completely. But I had plenty of time to convince him. The rest of my life, in fact.
So I lifted his hands and pushed them behind his neck, then I walked him a step backward into the door and pinned him there with my body. “Why would I want a boy…” I said softly, “…when I’ve got a man?”
“You’ve got a man.” His husky tone completely undid me. Then he kissed me hard and pulled his hands away so they could mold my body to his and make every erogenous inch of me throb with arousal.
“Is this where our honeymoon starts?” I breathed against his lips when he let me pull away. “Because I seriously want to liberate Bruno from those constricting clothes.” I rubbed my belly against his very hard cock. “And he wants to tell you that raincoat weather is over. It’s au naturel from now on.”
Max groaned softly, his head back, a half smile on his lips, as if he didn’t give a rip what wa
s happening outside the door, and I loved that. I loved him. So in a sudden switch of roles, I forced myself to remember for both of us and I pulled myself under control and let him go, stepping back to catch my breath and try to dampen my libido.
“Or,” I said, straightening my creased skirt. “You could introduce me to your friends, seeing as you’ve met mine,” I said with a significant glance. “And I can fuck your brains out later in the day.”
His eyes were open now, and they glittered wickedly. “Very well.” He nodded, as if to say well played. “We’ll make conversation with my friends who will tell you that I haven’t been able to shut up about you since the moment we met. And you will accept that graciously and not tease me relentlessly about my infatuation.” This last was added with a warning tone.
“Of course,” I said, smirking. “But you’ve put me through hell this week. Surely there’s some payback.”
“Sexual favors?” He arched a devilish black brow.
“Hmmm. Perhaps you can be my slave for a day.”
“Sweetheart,” he said in a low, husky voice. “I’ll be your dog if that’s what it takes to make you happy.”
“And will you roll over for me?” I whispered, giving Bruno a firm caress through the fabric of his trousers.
“Absolutely,” he growled. “And I’m also prepared to beg if it gets me some tasty morsels…”
“Crushed strawberries.”
“Already in the honeymoon suite,” he said and smiled.
That’s when I knew I had it all.
Love.
Sex.
Craziness.
The trifecta of marital bliss. And as I hooked arms with my husband, preparing to meet his ‘tribe’, who I hoped would accept a wild colonial girl into their midst, I couldn’t stop grinning.
I’d finally found the one thing I’d always wanted—a man who felt like home…
T H E E N D
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