One Summer Night

by Caridad Piñeiro

The dress she wore emphasized her height and slim curves and was clearly vintage, judging from the style and the aged ivory color of the lace and satin. Yards and yards of lace and satin and beads gleamed in the last rays of the early autumn sunset, making her almost glow as she approached, her movements fluid and graceful. Her head was held high, dark curls cascading down to her shoulders while two flower-bedecked combs raked back her thick locks from her face.

  Her beautiful face was beaming with joy as her gaze locked with his across the distance that separated them. A distance shrinking with each step that she took toward him and their life together. A long life together, he hoped, shoving aside thoughts of the deception he’d committed to get them here and all that he stood to lose. He furiously locked away the image of the ugliness that had dashed any hope he might have had that his father would relent and come to the wedding.

  A dim light and motion in the distance caught his eye, dragging his gaze away from his wife-to-be and to the uppermost floor of his family’s home, where his father had his quarters. There, in one of the windows, was the shadow of a man. His father, judging from the silhouette.

  What is he thinking? Owen wondered, but only for a second as he pulled himself back to the vision of Maggie coming toward him, a delighted smile on her face and happiness in her gaze despite the shimmer of tears.

  Joyful tears, he knew and swallowed past the thick lump in his throat.

  Beside him, Jonathan bent and whispered, “She’s beautiful, Owen.”

  “Yes, she is,” he said and thought, And she’s all mine. Forever and always, she’ll be mine.

  When Maggie reached the foot of the arbor, her father paused and kissed her. He offered her hand to Owen, who held out his arm and accepted her at his side.

  Her hand trembled on his arm, and he covered it with his and whispered in her ear, “Together, Mags. We can do this together.”

  “Together,” she replied, and he knew no other vows could bind them as strongly as that simple promise.

  Chapter 27

  The wedding and reception passed by in a blur of emotions, food, friends, and happiness.

  Carlo had outdone himself with the wedding feast, even though Maggie hadn’t had much time to eat with all the dancing, greeting guests, and kissing Owen. Not that she’d complain about the latter.

  There had been some kind of flavorful consommé to start the five-course meal. A delicious seared duck breast in red wine demi-glace joined by grilled foie gras followed. Next came a succulent filet mignon, roasted fingerling potatoes, and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. After those heavier offerings, the servers brought out a fruit and cheese tray before the traditional cake cutting and a Viennese hour with so many different desserts, she couldn’t begin to name them. Between each course, dainty dishes of lemon ice had been served to cleanse the palate.

  The champagne flowed liberally. An intricate fountain on the patio burbled with a copious shower of the bubbly while waiters also served glasses of champagne and other drinks to guests. At the bar areas stationed to the sides of the property, fanciful ice sculptures graced punch bowls filled with the signature cocktail Carlo had promised, a delicious mix of vodka, fruit brandy, and assorted citrus juices.

  The photographers and videographers did a delicate dance around the space, capturing the occasion while trying not to be noticeable or interfere with the festivities.

  Everyone seemed to be enjoying himself or herself, even Connie and Jonathan, who appeared to have put aside their prickliness for the evening.

  “It’s all so wonderful,” Maggie said, almost in awe, and glanced at Owen. Her husband Owen.

  He grinned an impossibly broad grin filled with joy that reached up to his amazing dark-gray eyes. Eyes glittering with happiness and trained solely on her. “It is, Mrs. Pierce.”

  “Sinclair-Pierce,” she reminded him with a playful poke.

  “Mrs. Sinclair-Pierce. Are you ready to go?” he asked, and the light in his eyes grew heated, warming her core with the promise of what would happen on their wedding night.

  “I’m ready. Time to change and then wish our guests goodbye.” She rose and grabbed hold of his hand, leading him from the dais that had been erected parallel to the wall of privet hedges that separated the two properties. Inside, they hurried up the stairs to the two different bedrooms they had used to prepare for the wedding.

  At the door to hers, Owen blocked the entrance with his arm and swooped in for a kiss that promised so much.

  “Don’t take too long,” he urged her.

  “I won’t,” she said, until she remembered that her vintage dress had dozens of tiny buttons down the back.

  “Would you help me get undressed?” she said, looking over her shoulder to guide his gaze to the problem.

  He wiggled his eyebrows and teased, “In a hurry? The guests are still here, and besides, I have something very special planned for our first night as man and wife.”

  She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and presented him her back. “Please just undo the buttons, because I am in a hurry to see what you’ve planned.”

  They’d agreed that their honeymoon would wait until the holiday season was over and the stores were hopefully more stable. But for the rest of the weekend, it would be just the two of them before they returned to work on Monday.

  Owen chuckled. “Only married a few hours and you’re already bossy,” he mock griped and quickly slipped the buttons free, baring the long length of her back and the very modern and very sexy lingerie she wore beneath the antique dress.

  He skimmed his index finger along the edge of the silk and lace that barely covered her bottom, leaned close to her, and whispered, “I hope I get to see more of this later.”

  She swatted at his hand as he reached beneath her dress to splay it across the bare skin of her stomach and urge her tight to him and the growing pressure of his erection.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said and rushed into the room, shutting the door behind her firmly.

  * * *

  “Tease,” Owen said to the wood of the door, but he didn’t linger for long, impatient to see his new wife in that lingerie and less. Eager for her to see the care he’d taken for their wedding night and weekend.

  Inside the room, he ripped off his clothes and speedily changed into a lightweight linen suit and cotton shirt. He skipped the tie, not wanting to waste the time to tie it and not feeling the need to put on such airs for their big departure.

  Emma would probably pitch a fit that their grand exit from the party wasn’t going as she’d planned, but all he cared about was making the exit as quickly and gracefully as they could. When he left the room, Emma stood with Maggie in the hallway, barking orders to her staff via the earpiece. As she saw him, she said, “You should have let me know you were getting ready to leave. We’ll have your car ready to go in just a few minutes. We’ve asked the guests to wait for you out front to send you off.”

  “You’ve got five minutes and that’s it,” he said and held his hand out to Maggie.

  She had changed into a short, form-fitting red dress that hugged every curve of her luscious body and had a neckline that dipped low to expose the generous swell of her breasts.

  “Do you like? I wore red for good luck,” she said at his lingering gaze.

  “I like. A lot,” he said. Since they had five minutes to wait, he hauled her close for a long, passionate kiss that held the promise of what would follow once they were alone.

  “For God’s sake, Owen. Can’t you wait?” Emma groused as she stomped off to one side of the hall to give them some privacy.

  Maggie grinned and gestured toward her friend with a nod of her head. “She’s not a fan of PDAs.”

  He looked toward Emma, who was once again communicating with her staff. “Well, she better get used to a lot of displays of affection if she’s going to be around us
, because I intend on always showing you how much you mean to me.”

  Emma turned back toward them, a brittle smile gracing her lips, unshed tears glimmering in her gaze.

  “You’re all set to go,” she said, her voice husky with suppressed emotion.

  Owen understood the enormity of what had happened today in Emma’s world. The shock to Maggie’s friend’s system that it was one of them getting married and entering a new phase of life.

  Maggie walked over to Emma and hugged her hard. “This doesn’t change anything, Emma. You’re my BFFF and you always will be.”

  Emma nodded and swiped at a tear as it rolled down her cheek. “I know. I just want you to be happy.” She jabbed a finger at Owen and tossed her shoulders back like a bantam rooster about to fight. “If you hurt her, so help me God, you’ll regret it.”

  Owen took it all in stride. He walked over and embraced Emma. “I’m honored to be part of your family now.”

  His words broke the dam Emma had built against her emotions. The tears flowed freely now, and she dashed them away as she said, “I’ve got to go and finish things up. You are paying me for this after all.”

  She hurried away, mumbling yet more instructions to her staff and leaving Maggie and Owen standing there, hesitant.

  “Will she be all right?” he asked and slipped his hand into Maggie’s.

  She nodded. “Connie and Tracy are here. They’ll help her deal.” With a deep inhalation, she looked up at him and said, “Ready to face the world, my husband?”

  He grinned so hard, he thought his face might crack as he said, “Totally ready, Mrs. Sinclair-Pierce.”

  Together, they walked downstairs and to the front door where Emma and Carlo stood, waiting for them. Carlo had a comforting hand on Emma’s shoulder, offering her support. Owen knew that Carlo hoped to offer Emma more and soon.

  * * *

  When they reached the entrance, Maggie walked over to Carlo and gave him a tight hug.

  “Thank you for all that you did. It was amazing.” She leaned close, and in a whisper only he could hear, she added, “Please take care of her.”

  A slow smile spread across his handsome features, and as he glanced down at a barely recovered Emma, he said, “Thank you. I’ll make sure everything is okay.”

  She walked back to Owen, and Carlo opened the door so they could step out to greet the waiting crowd of guests. Connie, Tracy, Jonathan, and the other groomsmen were up at the front, and they embraced each of them and said their goodbyes before hurrying past the rest of the guests, who tossed birdseed and blew bubbles to send them off.

  Owen’s Lightning prototype sat at the base of the circular drive, and for a second, Maggie wondered how she’d climb into the low-slung car with her body-hugging dress, but with Owen’s assistance, she managed to sink down onto the passenger seat.

  Inside, the car was the height of luxury and just the kind of toy many men would love to have. A sleek, charcoal-gray dashboard had an immense touch pad to control the car, and lots of black leather enveloped her in comfort. Jonathan’s company would clearly have a winner on its hands once the car was available for sale to the public.

  After Owen settled in, he started the car, or at least she thought he did as the touch pad and assorted lights snapped to life, but the lack of engine noise like that in a standard vehicle was disconcerting.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled out of the drive. Owen had insisted on planning their wedding weekend and keeping it a surprise.

  “A place I thought you might like. Sit back and relax. You must be tired.”

  As he probably was. She’d been up late with her friends, enjoying a last single girls’ get-together. She’d had to get up early to be primped and preened by the stylists Emma had hired to help her get ready. Then there had been the photographers, and before she knew it, the morning and afternoon had flown by, and it was time for the wedding.

  Now, as the adrenaline that had kept her going all day wore off, tiredness made her limbs feel like lead. She glanced over at Owen…

  No, not just Owen. Her husband Owen, and that realization sent a little thrill of excitement through her, chasing away some of her weariness. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his thigh, needing to touch him. As she did so, the lights from the streetlamps made the rings on her finger glitter. The sapphire-and-diamond engagement ring that had been in her family and the diamond eternity band Owen had slipped on her finger during the ceremony.

  “I love you,” she said, finding the words remarkably comfortable to say.

  He peered at her, dark brows knitted together, before returning his attention to the road. “I love you too, but why say it now?”

  The answer came surprisingly easy. “Because there’s no expectation of it now. No crowd waiting to hear it. No moment of ecstasy—”

  “Ecstasy, huh? That’s a tough one to live up to,” he teased. Even in the dark of the car, she could see his pleased grin.

  It was a tough thing to live up to, but she had no doubt that he’d meet that challenge later, so she continued. “I love you, Owen. It feels right saying it.”

  He cast a quick look at her, and it was impossible to miss his contentment and the broad smile on his face. “This does feel right, Maggie. You and me together. More than I ever could have imagined.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way too,” she said, reached up, and brushed her fingers through his hair. Leaning over in the narrow space of the car, she kissed his cheek. “Are we almost there yet?” she asked playfully.

  He arched one brow. “Impatient, are we?”

  “Yes,” she confessed, eager to see the surprise he’d planned. Even more eager to spend their first night alone as husband and wife.

  “Just another twenty minutes or so, thankfully, since I’m just as ready as you are for tonight.”

  With that, she sat back in her seat, willing away the minutes and barely containing her anticipation.

  Owen drove the way he did everything else. Competently. Responsibly. Powerfully as he handled the roadster with smooth moves. As he eased onto the parkway and accelerated, she allowed herself to close her eyes for just a moment, knowing she’d be safe and well cared for.

  * * *

  Owen peeked over at Maggie to ask her if she wanted to listen to any music and realized she was fast asleep. He understood. After the impromptu bachelor/decorating party with Carlo and Jonathan and all the running around both before and during the wedding, he was dog-tired. But he wasn’t about to let exhaustion spoil their first night as man and wife.

  He stepped on the accelerator, speeding the car on faster so they could reach their destination, a huge private mansion along the Navesink River and directly across from Hartshorne Woods Park and the Twin Lights. The mansion was on a large property and fairly secluded, providing them privacy. They’d been lucky so far in that the security detail he’d hired had managed to keep away the few paparazzi who had wanted to crash the wedding. But as close as they were to the other homes along their neck of the Jersey Shore, he was sure that photos of their ceremony and celebration would be in the papers by the morning.

  He wondered what his father would think of that. What his father had been thinking as he stood up in his room, watching. Had he possibly had a change of heart and been too embarrassed to show it by coming to the wedding? More likely, he had been up there wishing for it to all go south so the prenup would help him secure the Sinclair properties. As the ugliness of his father’s hate ate at his happiness, he forced it away, intending to allow only joy for this very special night.

  He pulled off the parkway and navigated the side streets until he was on the road that ran by the river and up toward the Oceanic Bridge. As the road veered hard to the left, he slowed the car and, in the dark of night, searched for the entrance to the mansion that Jonathan had borrowed from a friend who was vacationing in Euro
pe for the summer.

  Spotting the address and the ornate wrought-iron gate that was familiar from last night’s visit to prep the place, he drove up and tapped in the security code. A second later, the gates slid open, and he drove down the long, paved road to the front courtyard of the mansion.

  He parked and turned in his seat so he could look at his wife for a moment, wanting to memorize every single thing about her. She was beautiful even in sleep, her heart-shaped face relaxed. A peaceful smile on her full lips. Lips he just couldn’t resist.

  He leaned over and kissed her. A soft entreaty for her to waken, like a prince in a fairy tale willing the princess to come to life. Beneath his lips, there was a moment of surprise and then acceptance as she opened her mouth and eased a hand up to his head to cradle him close.

  He felt her smile against his lips as she said, “I like waking up like this.”

  “Well, then I promise to wake you up like this every morning,” he said, grinning. Loving the easy way they had between them that made everything seem so right. He reluctantly shifted away from her and asked, “Are you ready for our special night, Mrs. Sinclair-Pierce?”

  Chapter 28

  “I am, Owen. I am so ready,” Maggie said and didn’t wait for him to come around and open her door.

  He rushed out of his side of the car, hurried across to meet her, and eased an arm around her waist. After another kiss, more intense and demanding than before, he led her to the door of an immense contemporary-style mansion and unlocked the door. Throwing open the floor-to-ceiling wooden door, he turned and swept her up into his arms before she could protest.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice filled with laughter as she grabbed hold of his shoulders.

  He smirked and rolled his eyes. “And again, if you can’t tell, I must suck at carrying my new bride over the threshold.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said and dropped a kiss on his cheek. She turned her head just a bit to whisper in his ear, “And I love it and you.”