Why, I’m beautiful! My eyes sparkle with emotion, my lips glow with a soft rose pink. The gown flows from my shoulders into an empire waistline bedecked with more sparkly tiny diamonds, the sleeves tight to the elbow and then split open to cascade down in soft, flowing chiffon. And the decolletage? Well, let’s just say my boobs are in full display. “You don’t think the girls will fall out, do you?” I ask, tugging up the neckline.
“No. The seamstress did a great job constructing the gown.” She brushes a hand against the stays which hold up the dress on the sides.
“You’re stunning, Liz.” Tears shimmer in CeCe’s eyes.
“Pregnant belly and all.”
Brianna peals out a laugh. “Actually several Storm brides have come to the wedding altar bearing proof of their husband-to-be’s virility.”
“Darn. And here I was hoping I would be the first.”
“You’re first in Gabriel’s heart. And that’s all that counts.”
First in his heart? I don’t think so. But he’s played the besotted groom so well, even his sister believes he’s in love with me.
I remind myself we are doing this for our baby.
CeCe and Bri’s gowns, although not as elaborate as mine, are also of medieval construct, with deep decolletages and long flowing sleeves.
A knock on the door signifies it’s time to leave. The dresser hurries to envelop me with the last finishing touch, an ermine-lined cape draped around my shoulders to keep me from growing too cold. Part of the ceremony will be conducted outdoors.
Bri hands me my wedding bouquet, a mixture of red roses, lilies of the valley and baby’s breath. I take a deep breath, and CeCe opens the door.
Casey stands right outside, looking very handsome in the groomsmen version of medieval garb, a dark flowing coat that falls to his knees over trousers, with a sword tied to his belt. Bri precedes me down the Adams staircase with CeCe following behind, and Casey and I bringing up the rear.
At the bottom of the stairs, I’m greeted by an entire array of all the castle servants dressed in similar costumes. Lined along the length of the Great Hall, they smile and bow as we walk by.
“Breathe”—Casey reminds me—“before you pass out.”
I take a deep breath, well as much as I can take in the constricting gown. How on earth people wore these types of garments for hours at a time is beyond me.
We finally make it to the castle’s massive front door where we take a right. The chapel shares a wall with the castle, but it must be reached from the outside. It’s a cold, breezy day, with lots of sun. The bright light hurts my eyes, momentarily blinding me
I open them to find Gabriel standing on the front steps with Royce to his side and the officiant who will marry us on the top step, holding a big book close to his chest. He looks exactly the way a minister should, white hair and a kind smile.
“Welcome, milady.”
I don’t know what to do, so I nod in acknowledgment of the greeting.
He waves his free hand about. “God blessed you with a beautiful day for your nuptials. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Sir.” My voice sounds unsure. I wish Gabriel would turn around and acknowledge my presence, instead of staring straight ahead at the congregation through the chapel’s open door.
My hand trembles in Casey’s arm. He presses it for reassurance.
The minister offers another kind smile, opens his book and reads from it. “God is love, and those who live in love live in God and God lives in them.”
Gabriel’s hanging on to the minister’s every word, a solemn look on his face. He’s yet to glance at me.
From somewhere within the chapel, an organ peals out a hymn, accompanied by a choir of voices. The minister turns and leads us down the aisle. Gabriel and Royce, Brianna and CeCe, Casey and me.
When we reach the altar, Casey waits until the hymn finishes before gently pulling back my veil. He kisses me on the cheek, and steps into the first row, where Gina waits for him.
And still Gabriel hasn’t looked at me.
The minister offers more prayers that seem to go on forever. And then suddenly, he’s addressing us.
“The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence
of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts;
therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”
Both of us remain silent.
“Gabriel James, will you take Elizabeth Marie to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.” Gabriel’s firm voice echoes in the chapel.
When it comes to my turn, my voice wavers. Not only am I about to pass out, but the chapel’s bloody freezing.
Another hymn is sung while I sway on my feet. And then the minister invites us to hold hands. I swallow back a moan of ecstasy from Gabriel’s warmth. Finally, blessedly he turns to look at me, all the emotion in the world in his gaze, eyes practically brimming over with tears. How could I have doubted him knowing what our wedding means to him?
“I, Gabriel James, take you, Elizabeth Marie, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow.”
With Gabriel now lending me his support, my vow is stronger than the puny thing I offered before. After more prayers, we exchange rings. And then finally it’s time for us to kiss.
Okay, I have to admit, I practically jump him seeking more of his warmth and strength. The kiss is everything a wedding kiss should be—tender, loving, with just a hint of tongue. Giving as much as I’m getting, I clutch at him with all the joy my heart will allow. He kisses the palm of my hand afterward. From the look on the minister’s face, I gather that’s not part of the ceremony. Gabriel hurries us up the aisle. Outside, he picks me up and twirls me around and around. I grow dizzy, breathless, before he drops me back on my feet and kisses me, the way he usually does, with lots of tongue. As the guests gather around us, applauding the passionate kiss, his mouth splits in the most luminous smile I’ve ever seen on him.
The reception is held in the castle’s dining hall. The food is sublime, prepared by the castle chef. After dinner, the small band he hired strikes up the song he’ chosen for our first dance—The Way You Look Tonight.
He and I have never danced so I don’t know what to expect. We never discussed this, much less practiced dancing to ‘our’ song. But as always, he surprises me. Even with his slight limp, he manages quite well.
“You’re really good,” I say.
“Amazing what a few dance lessons will do.” He winks at me.
I suspect he hasn’t taken a dance lesson in his life.
After we cut the cake, Gabriel takes my hand and kisses the back of it while glancing up at me. A photographer captures the pose and that’s the one that makes it into the papers. We appear totally besotted with each other. Maybe it was the wine in him, the cake in me.
In the emerald bedroom, he tosses his jacket on a chair and then he unlaces the back of my gown. The veil, my shift, the rest of my underwear all land on top of his jacket. Except for my silk stockings, I’m left standing nude, trembling, in front of him.
“You’re shivering.”
“Not from the cold.”
“I’ll warm you.” He gets down on his knees.
“Gabriel.” He’s put so much stress on his leg today.
“Shh.”
He unrolls one silk stocking and bends down to kiss my foot. “Mine.” Kissing the other, he whispers the same. A litany of “Mines” follow as he lavishes the same benediction along an upward trail of ankles, legs, thighs. No spot is left untouched by his lips, including my mons, against which he murmurs “Most definitely mine.”
His longest kiss o
f all is bestowed on my belly after which, eyes shining, he looks up at me. Leaning on a chair, he comes off his knees to continue his parade of kisses. Each breast gets its own tribute, the swell of my chest, my arms, hands, fingertips. He brushes his blessing on my throat, jaw, brow, cheeks. And finally, finally my lips.
“Mine. All mine.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.
What can I do but agree. “Yes, my darling Gabriel. I certainly am”—for a year and one month—”yours.”
Chapter 28
______________
British Virgin Islands
Gabriel
OUR HONEYMOON finds us at the Pirate’s Cove Villa in a private island close to Virgin Gorda, one of the British Virgin Islands. The remote location grants us the privacy we need with little, if any, interference from the outside world. Constructed on a small hill, the villa commands a 225-degree view of the islands surrounding us. The panoramic terrace perched fifty feet above the bay below is only a one-minute walk to a private beach. The only way in or out is by boat, the hill above considered too inhabitable for man.
Given my mother’s threat against Liz, we’re accompanied by a full security contingent, headed by Samuel. Operatives guard the beach and the pier at all times. The villa accommodates up to ten people so it’s large enough to house the entire team.
In and around the villa with the occasional fly-by helicopter. The private island can’t be approached without someone knowing about it.
The villa comes with its own staff who cater to our every whim.
I spend an hour checking in with the office and Jake who by necessity remained behind, not only to watch Bri but to make sure Royce stayed put while his health continues to improve. I don’t trust my brother not to get a hair up his ass and take off for parts unknown. But seemingly he’s satisfied to remain in England to eat, drink, and be merry, as he promised.
Having performed my familial and corporate duties, I head out to the deck to join Liz, who’s lying on a lounge chair soaking up the sun and sipping some drink. She’s wearing a black two-piece bathing suit which covers her pregnant belly although right now the top’s rolled up to catch some rays.
When I arrive by her side, I lean over to kiss her and a cornucopia of tropical scents greets me—orange from the juice, coconut from her tanning cream. Dropping into the lounge chair next to her, I take the tanning tube from her and lather it all over her skin. Not that she needs it. In three short days, she’s turned brown as a berry.
“This place suits you.” Her skin glows with health and her teeth appear white in her tanned face. She’s glowing with health.
“I love it here. The air smells different, lighter, and the sea breeze. Ummm. Wish I could stay here forever.”
“Sooner or later, you’d miss D.C.”
Her face scrunches. “Not now when it’s cold and dreary. Bu I would miss the cherry blossoms in the spring. You’ll have to come down from New York to see them.”
“We’ll see.” In the spring, she’ll be in London, not D.C., but of course I don’t say anything. I want her to enjoy our honeymoon before I tell her what she can expect in her future.
Leah, our pool girl, approaches. “Would you like another glass of orange juice?”
“No, but I’ll take a glass of iced water. It’s getting hot out here.”
Leah smiles. Having lived here all her life, she’s used to the heat.
“What is that scent you’re wearing?” Liz asks.
“It’s a special blend of frangipani, white ginger and jasmine. Island Fragrances sells it on Charlotte Amalie.”
Charlotte Amalie. The capital of the U.S. Virgin Islands.
“I’ll have to buy some when we go there tomorrow.”
I’ve scheduled a jaunt to St. Thomas to do some sightseeing and for Liz to buy some souvenirs of the trip. I’m surprised by Liz’s sudden affinity for our pool girl’s scent. “But you don’t wear perfume.”
She laughs. “You don’t remember it, but I did. I had to stop using it when I got pregnant. The scent was too strong for me. But I love Leah’s. It’s nice and light.”
After she guzzles the glass of water Leah brings back to her, I bend over and kiss Liz’s belly. She curls her hand around the back of my head and urges my mouth close to hers.
A heated kiss later, she smacks her lips. “Ummm, your lips taste like coconut.”
“Want to go inside and taste the rest of me?”
She laughs. “God, Storm, don’t you ever get enough?”
Keeping my hands off her has proved an impossibility even though she’s seven months pregnant. We make love every night, every morning. “No. So?”
She peeks up at me through her eyelashes in a coqquetish gesture. I don’t recall her doing much flirting with me. But since our wedding ceremony, she’s become more carefree, more joyous. I love her like this. “Not now. Maybe later. The baby’s enjoying the sun too much.”
I take her hand, drop a kiss on the palm, and drift off to sleep beneath the brilliant blue of the Caribbean sky.
The next morning dawns bright and sunny, like every day we’ve been here. She skips breakfast, preferring to eat after we arrive in Charlotte Amalie. We jump on the boat I chartered to Virgin Gorda where we catch the ferry to Charlotte Amalie. We’ll spend the night there, shopping and sightseeing, before returning to our private island the next day. At the capital of the U.S. Virgin Islands, a limo awaits. First stop is the main shopping street of Dronningens Gade where, starving now, we step into a cafe to grab some grub.
My leg’s decided it likes the sun, so by now I’m walking with only a slight hitch in my step. I no longer need the cane unless I overdo it. She purchases souvenirs for Casey and Gina, CeCe, even something for Bri and Royce. For herself, she buys a tropical skirt and a t-shirt. I run into a jewelry store and buy her a pearl necklace. Someone offers to braid her hair, but I nix that on the spot. I don’t want to see her beautiful hair anything but loose down her back.
She spots the Island Perfumes store Leah told her about, and squealing with excitement, drags me in there. Something squeezes my heart. I’ve never seen her so carefree and happy. She has every right to worry and curse me for the situation she finds herself in. And yet, since she’s stepped on the island, she’s been nothing but smiles and acts like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
While she explains what she wants to the sales clerk, I take a look around the store. I spot a bottle of gardenia-scented perfume, and something clicks inside of me. A shiver follows, as if a ghost walked over my grave. Drawn to the perfume by some unseen force, I open the bottle and take a whiff.
Just like that, all my memories of Liz come rushing back—the day we met, making love in her home, me pounding into her over a desk at her job, London, Winterleagh Castle. Her confessing to stealing those confidential documents from me.
Unaware of the cataclysmic change in me, she turns to me holding a bottle of fragrance. “What’s wrong?” She must have seen something in my eyes.
“Elizabeth,” the name I used to call her when we first met, when I made love to her. The name I yelled when she confessed he betrayal and walked out on me.
The bottle she’s holding crashes to the floor, spilling its essence over the well worn wooden floor, over her.
The sales clerk cries out, a couple more converge on Elizabeth, bringing a mop and broom, asking her not to move. But she’s frozen like a statue, gazing at me.
“Gabriel?” Her eyes fill with tears.
I order one of our guards to pay for the broken bottle, an additional one to take with us and to add something extra for the trouble of cleaning up. After which, I stride up to Elizabeth and pick her up. I don’t say anything but walk out with her in my arms, limping a bit, yes, but still holding on tight to the woman I love, the one who betrayed me, my wife.
Chapter 29
______________
Elizabeth
“PUT ME DOWN. I can walk.” By now I know better than to mention his
leg, so I don’t.
He lowers me into a convenient bench by the side of the road where he proceeds to toss my flip flops in the nearest trash bin.
“Hey.”
“Hush.” His gaze silences me as much as his tone. He points to one of the street stands where sandals are brightly displayed and orders one of the guards to purchase a pair, size eight.
“Which ones? the guard asks.
“Doesn’t matter.”
What? “The white ones on the end.” I point to a pair of criss cross flats.
When the guard comes back with the shoes, Gabriel slides them on, fastens them, before taking me by the hand and leading me down the road toward the spot where the limo waits for us.
“We’re done shopping?”
“Yes.”
As we pass the stores. I look longingly at them. I’m not much of a shopper but I love the ambiance of this place—the sun beating down on my skin, the music drifting from one of the kiosks, the variety of fragrances wafting in the air.
I slide into the limo ahead of Gabriel. “Are we going to Bluebeard’s Castle now?” He’d promised me a visit.
“No. We’re going to the hotel. I need to take care of those cuts.”
“It’s nothing, Gabriel. They’re minor at best.”
“You need to rest.”
Rather than protest the change in itinerary, I acquiesce. I know there’s more in his mind than my need to take a nap.
We’d pre-checked into the hotel, and our overnighs are all ready in the room, so it’s only a matter of riding the elevator to our suite. The four guards will bunk down on the one next to ours. On the walk down the hallway I notice his leg’s bothering him again. Having to carry me even for a short distance couldn’t have done it any good.
Having obtained a first aid kit from the concierge, Gabriel dabs my cuts with some antibiotic wipes, covers a couple of them with band-aids. “It shouldn’t leave a mark.”
I laugh. “Gabriel’s it’s nothing.”
Storm Ravaged (Storm Damages 2) (Storm Legacy) Page 16