The White Chapel: Book 2 in the Steamy New Adult Contemporary Romance Series (The Chapel Series)

by Marilyn Cruise

  “Well, Merry Christmas again. Will I see you tomorrow?” my father asks.

  “I’ll try to come by. Lots of stuff going on in preparation for the wedding,” I say.

  “Of course. I wish I could be of more help.”

  “Just give me away. That will be more than enough.” I give him a kiss on the cheek, Michaels says good-bye, and we head back to my place.

  6

  By the time we get outside, the snow is coming down heavily. We arrive home within fifteen minutes, but before we step inside, Michael goes to his car and fishes something out of his trunk.

  “What is it?” I ask, seeing he’s carrying a black box. I unlock the front door, and step inside. A wave of heat greets me. Looks like they turned the power back on, thank God.

  “I picked this up for you the other day. I thought you might need something formal to wear tonight,” he says.

  “A dress?” I ask.

  “Just open the damn box,” he says with a crooked smile.

  I take the box out of his hands and slide up next to him. Then I plant a small kiss on his cheek. I’d better be careful not to get too greedy, or I’ll just want so much more.

  I open it and inside there is a white, floor-length chiffon dress with silver and clear rhinestone embroidery on the bodice. The sleeves are long and sheer and there’s a chiffon scarf that goes with it.

  “You have a thing for scarves,” I say.

  “You have no idea,” he says, his voice low, his eyes suddenly ablaze.

  “You had better get those dirty thoughts out of your mind or I’ll have no other option than to make us miss the party,” I say.

  “What are you suggesting, exactly?” He leans in and kisses me behind the ear.

  Reluctantly, I reel myself in. “Nothing. I have to get ready now.”

  “One more thing,” Michael says, holding up a small black box. He opens the lid and inside is a beautiful necklace. It looks like diamonds, but…

  “Are those…real?” I say, thinking yeah, right.

  “Twenty-four grade ‘A’ diamonds, totaling forty-eight carats.”

  I look at him in disbelief, my eyes widening by the second. “Where did you get these?” Surely they’re on loan.

  “A jewelry shop.”

  I give him a look. Smartass.

  “I’m not telling. But I want you to know that they’re not on loan. They’re yours,” he says. “Consider it an engagement present.”

  “I can’t…” I start.

  His eyes flicker with subtle annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want you to have these, you hear? If not, I’ll donate them to my mother’s favorite charity.”

  I chuckle. I’ve never received a gift even remotely as nice as this. I can’t imagine what something like this would cost. I’ve never even looked at purchasing a single diamond, and I feel guilty just thinking about accepting it.

  “Please, let me dote on my future wife. It would mean a lot to me. Besides, I insist,” he says.

  “I just don’t even know what to say to something so extravagant,” I say.

  “Thank you, merci, gracias, tusen takk, you can pick your language of choice. But I don’t need a thank you.”

  He’s relentless and I roll my eyes.

  “Rolling your eyes at me, Mrs. Manning? Did you forget how severely I punished you when you did that to me last time? Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook just because it’s Christmas Day.” He pinches my ass.

  Oh… Would he really do me…again? I stare at him for a moment. “Bring it.”

  “You’re going to learn to be a lot more amiable and obedient when you’re married to me,” he says. “Let’s just say I believe in the Christian marriage where the wife is obligated to willingly submit herself to her husband.”

  “I submit ever so willingly,” I tease, licking my lower lip.

  His eyes flare up just enough so I notice it, and then he exhales a slow and controlled breath. “If it weren’t for the fact that we need to be at the party in less than half an hour, I’d have my way with you, woman.”

  “Again?” I say, my deepest muscles clenching at the thought.

  “After.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Oh, very much so.” He kisses me on the forehead, and then he swats me on the behind. “Now, go get ready before I lose the ability to control myself.”

  It amazes me that I have such an effect on him. It makes me feel powerful in a way, but at the same time, oh, so weak.

  * * *

  On our way to Diane’s, we stop at Michael’s house—well, mansion—so he can change into his tux. I wait in his bedroom while he gets dressed, trying to come up with how I’m going to tell him I’m Samantha. Should I drop a hint and see if he figures it out? No, I should just be direct. Maybe I’ll send him an email. No, that would be chickening out. I want to be there and see how he reacts and be available just in case he has questions for me. I feel giant knots tie in my stomach as I imagine him freaking out and ending our deal.

  He did say that nothing would make him change the way he feels about me. That makes me feel a little better.

  What’s surprising is I’m almost just as worried about losing him as I am of losing the deal. Maybe even more worried.

  Michael comes out wearing a black tuxedo with a silver bow-tie that matches my dress. His hair is still slightly messy at the front, but is neatly combed at the back. Standing up, I suddenly feel the need to inhale, and notice I have stopped breathing altogether. I get to marry him? I’ve been fucked by him? I’ve had him tell me that I drive him crazy? If it weren’t for the fact that we were both dressed and late for the party, I’d be attacking him again.

  Driving over to his mother’s dinner party, I feel like my life has finally arrived. I’m so grateful that I met Michael. Not only is he the answer to my financial needs, I truly think I love this man and finally feel like I’ve come home. I never imagined I would meet a man who at the same time could take my breath away and make me feel completely at ease, so wanted, and so thoroughly fulfilled.

  As we pull into Diane’s driveway, snow is coming down heavily. The white fluff has started to stick on the ground and I feel like I’m in winter wonderland on my way to Cinderella’s ball. Lit torches line the long driveway. I have a feeling it’s going to be a fabulous night, but as always, I’m a little worried about my future mother-in-law. Although she has clearly given her approval of me, I don’t know if she’ll do a one-eighty and slit my throat.

  “Nervous?” Michael says. He’s parked the car and looks over at me.

  “A little,” I say. “Your mother has a way of…”

  “Intimidating the hell out of everyone?” Michael completes my sentence. He smiles and runs a hand through his hair.

  I laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. She was rather sweet to me last night.” When she told me she was rewriting the will to be all in my favor. That’s another thing I should tell him about. I decide that I will, at the same time I reveal I’m Samantha. My father was right. Some secrets hurt those we love, and I can’t afford to hold onto any of them. To have a shot at making us work, I need to let go and trust this man with everything I hold dear. No more secrets. No more lies.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” he says. “One minute she’s your best friend and the next, she’s your worst enemy. I just hope you never get to see the other side of her.”

  I gulp. I really just want to have a nice evening with Michael and his family, but his comment makes me think that I’ll be on my toes, watching my back all evening. At least I’ll have Michael there.

  He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand and leans over and presses his soft lips to mine for just a second. From that measly second, my heart is beating fast.

  “I’ve been thinking, we can go home if you’d like. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the evening in bed with you.” He smiles seductively.

  I’m seriously considering his offer, but no. “We really should spend some time w
ith your family. I want to get to know them better, and besides, you never know how much longer you will have with your mother.” I hope my comment doesn’t offend him.

  “That’s why I love you so much,” he says.

  “Love me?” I say, teasing. Were his words earlier not just a slip of the tongue? He actually loves me? The words sound so warm and so right coming from his lips—intended for me.

  His brow crinkles. “You don’t understand yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved another woman before I met you.”

  His words fill me with unspeakable happiness. But I’m also shocked. I can’t get myself to say I love you to him. It’s too soon. And I have this deep fear that if I do say it, the whole relationship will unravel on me. Like the admittance of love will somehow curse everything we share.

  “I admit it, Scarlett. I love you!” He opens his car door and stands in the storm, the cool air rushing into the car, the snowflakes landing on his black overcoat and in his hair. “I love Scarlett Hansen!” he yells, tilting his head back and reaching his hands up to the sky.

  I feel my cheeks flush hot. Diane’s servants are waiting for us to get out of the car so they can park it, and it feels weird and wrong to have them be part of this sacred moment.

  “Shhh…” I say, getting out of the vehicle, but I can’t help grinning so hard my cheeks cramp. In my exhilaration, I run over to him, but just as I’m about a foot away, I slip. My feet fly into the air, and I’m heading for the ground. There’s a moment when not a single part of me touches the earth and I tense all the muscles in my body, anticipating that painful crash.

  However, before I collide with anything, I feel two strong arms pulling me, and the next thing I know, I’m in Michael’s arms, being held firmly against his chest. I inhale, the comforting and highly erotic scent of him filling me.

  “Don’t shush me. I want to tell the whole world I finally found you!” He bear hugs me and then kisses me lightly on the lips. “Every time you fall, my love, I will catch you.”

  I gaze into his deep, blue eyes, the memory of how I had nearly smashed into the ground completely forgotten.

  “Let’s get you inside, Mrs. Manning,” he says.

  I’d stay here forever in his arms if I could.

  Michael pulls me inside, and helps me get the snowflakes out of my hair. A servant takes our overcoats, and right as we enter the foyer, a waiter offers us a flute of champagne. Wreaths, red bows, golden bells, and Christmas trees decorate the vestibule. An instrumental version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town is playing over the speakers, and it smells of apples, cinnamon, and some type of meat.

  My stomach rumbles.

  To the right there’s a life-size Nativity Scene, and to the left stands a crew of servants ready to fulfill any of our whims.

  We walk past the garland-adorned stairwell, and into the marble hallway. When we arrive in the dining room, the rest of the party is already seated and are eating their appetizers. There are roughly 90 to 100 people here tonight, and I recognize some of them from last night’s Christmas Eve dinner.

  Kenneth waves to me and I wave back, and when Harold winks at me, I smile in return. And, oh, there’s the lady again with the exact same Wilma hairdo as last night.

  I am seated at the end again, but unfortunately this time Mrs. Manning sits right next to me. I’m probably imagining it, but during dinner she keeps glancing at me like she’s planning or scheming something. I try to keep as pleasant a smile on my lips as possible, telling myself it’s all in my head, but it’s difficult when she only talks to Michael about his real estate business. She’s up to something, but what?

  Once I have finished the four-course meal, I’m stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving. These dinner parties will do nothing for my figure, I’m sure. Maybe I’ll have to take Michael up on those early morning Cross-Fit sessions or I’m going to have to get myself to a gym if I don’t want to look like a hippo at my wedding.

  After dinner, Michael escorts me to the ballroom. The huge room has been beautifully decorated with garlands, lights, and with red, green, and gold Christmas trees along the walls. A band has been hired to play tonight’s music, and they’re playing Jingle Bell Rock. It appears that even more people have arrived after dinner, and they’re eagerly chatting away while sipping their drinks.

  The ballroom is filled to the brim with Portland’s high society. I even see some of the same people as when Michael took me on our first official date to the ballet. Wow, that seems a lifetime ago when he propositioned me, and the only reason I agreed to go out with him in the first place was so I could get my scarf back. I smile at the memory. Even back then he knew how to push my buttons.

  “May I have this dance?” Michael holds out his hand.

  “Oh, you’re a dancer?” I ask, surprised, giving him my hand.

  He secures me in his arms and twirls me deftly around, making my head spin for just a second. “The best.”

  “My, you certainly are a humble one, aren’t you?” I say.

  “I feel like I’m on top of the world tonight, Scarlett. And it is true what I said to your father. I am the luckiest man alive.” Ever so subtly, he grazes my ass and gives me that I-want-to-fuck-you-right-here-and-now look.

  I run my chiffon scarf through my fingers, and his eyes turn into two molten balls of fire.

  I feel my cheeks burn as a delightful wave of desire rips through me, igniting that need buried deep inside of me. Shit…I can’t get enough of him, and he has no idea how with just one look or a single touch, he makes me come completely apart.

  He leads me out onto the empty dance floor, and I’m very aware that quite a few eyes are watching us. I grip his hand, and he places his palm on the small of my back, dangerously low, and probably not at all acceptable in this type of setting. Heat immediately collects there. Heat collects everywhere.

  He draws me in close and swings me around and around, making my dress flare into a white balloon around me. The cool air whirls around my legs as the incredibly soft, smooth skirt settles around my thighs, caressing them. Did he pick it for that reason? No, he couldn’t have known how pleasurable the material would feel against my bare thighs, and how erotic it suddenly is to me that he handpicked this dress.

  Could he?

  He pulls me in, his silken, newly shaven cheek pressing against mine, and whispers, “You look divine, Mrs. Manning. I wish it were my hands fondling those firm thighs.”

  Holy hell. I glance at him, desire building between my legs. “Too bad so many respectable people are watching us, Mr. Manning. If they weren’t here, you could feel how wet I have become for you.”

  His eyes turn black with lust, but the rest of his face remains unaffected.

  We dance for a long time, lost in each other’s arms, the sexual tension so concentrated the entire time, it’s palpable. To anyone watching, we might just look like an average couple enjoying a romantic dance, but they can’t hear how my heart is beating erratically, or feel the wetness in my panties, or notice how his breath has become short little puffs in my ear.

  He sways me gently, like he’s making love to me right here on the dance floor, the moves slow and controlled. No other dance has been this erotic.

  “I think I love you, too, Mr. Manning,” I say. My heart is beating so fast, and though I’m scared to death of saying those three words, it feels so right.

  He pulls back a little and raises an eyebrow. “You think?” he says.

  I smile. “I love you, Michael,” I say with every fiber of my being. Looking into his eyes, I see a man who loves me, too. A man who has given himself to me heart and soul, and who is no longer afraid of what the future will bring. This is the man I could share everything with, be everything with, and do everything with. There’s not a single part of me I want to hold back. Not even the ugly parts. It’s time to tell him everything.

  “Let’s get out of here. I want to fuck you so long and hard you’ll no longer be able to stand,” he says into my ear, hi
s voice low and strained.

  My legs suddenly feel like two useless stilts of over-cooked spaghetti. He interlaces his fingers with mine, the fingers that will soon be inside of me, pleasuring me. But before they do, I will reveal to him everything. He deserves it. We deserve a firm foundation.

  Just as we reach the exit door, I hear an announcement from stage. It’s Diane’s voice.

  “I’d like to bring a very special couple up here. Michael and Scarlett, would you please?” she says, gesturing toward us with that cunning smile on her lips.

  Michael looks at me, a hesitant expression on his face. Dammit, we’re both so turned on how can we possibly go up there. It would be…very awkward to say the least.

  “Did you know about this?” he asks.

  “No,” I say. I really don’t want to go up there and stand in front of everybody. Definitely not in the state I’m in. When I’m dancing as a stripper performing in front of people, it’s a whole other thing, because I wear a mask. That is my alter-ego, it’s not really me. When I’m here among so many people, with Michael, I am just plain old me who would rather blend in with the crowd, who needs a hand to hold. In an instant, my heart is pounding for an entirely different reason than it was just seconds ago.

  Michael offers me a warm smile. “Don’t worry. She’s just going to congratulate us, and welcome you officially into the family.”

  He knows her better than I do, so I’ll trust him on this. God, I hope he’s right.

  We make our way up to the small platform stage and of course, I trip on the way up. I hear the crowd gasp, but fortunately, Michael catches me before I face plant onto the steps.

  “Thanks,” I say, thoroughly humiliated.

  We’re up on the stage now, standing in front of the band, and the ballroom grows quiet, a couple hundred pairs of eyes on me. I cling onto Michael’s arm for dear life, remembering what he said in the car about Diane and how she could become my worst enemy so quickly.