Heaven Inside You (7 page)

She couldn’t, wouldn’t hide the happiness in her eyes.

“I’d like that.”

* * * *

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of this man and this woman….”

The bridesmaid and the groomsman never took their eyes
off each other throughout the entire ceremony. People could call them enthralled, smitten, infatuated—or silly fools. Who cared? Certainly not the bridesmaid, teary eyed and emotional that she was. Nor the groomsman, whose face had softened amid sharp angles and lines that were thrown in stark relief against the severity of his tuxedo suit.

The only times they looked away were when Cole handed the rings to a bored looking Chad and when Fiona, irritated at Chad’s expression of disinterest,
deposited her bouquet of fresh orchids into Olivia’s hands, a bit too forcefully.

In Cole’s eyes,
only she existed in the whole church. When he saw her enter behind the bride, clad in an green silk dress that made her eyes shine with an ethereal vibrancy, her glorious mane of hair adorned with lilies artfully piled up on her head—a picture of grace and beauty—he almost stopped breathing. A magnificent sight that floored him. And she was his. She had damn well admitted it. Their return to New York would mark the start of a new life for both of them.

He wanted to talk to her about a few ideas he was considering. She had told him how she loved working with authors but wasn’t completely happy with her job. She also wished she had the time to write her own book. They certainly had a lot to think about in the coming months. He wanted a family, children. He wanted her. This day, he pledged his heart to her.

****

She wanted
him. Standing there, his hands folded in front of him, eyes for no one but her, he was the picture of masculine grace. And he was hers. With him, she knew her dreams for a full life would come to pass. He had told her he needed a change in his professional life. Together they would feed each other’s hopes. There was a lot they needed to talk about and plan. This day, she pledged her heart to him.

At the end of the ceremony, they
both turned around, flashed a bright smile and followed the bride and groom out of the church and into the sunshine. 

One year later…

“…and I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Cole gathered his new wife in his arms and planted a sound kiss on her lips, followed by another, more languid one for good measure. Their tongues barely touched, but they could both feel the heat rising between them. They finally broke apart because they had to, or they’d be in too much danger of being arrested for indecent exposure. And also because they were distracted by the catcalls coming from below deck.

The captain of the ship beamed at them in a grandfatherly way. He offered his congratulations to the happy couple and extended an invitation to join him at his table for a celebratory dinner that evening. Olivia gave him a tight hug and thanked him, then turned around and threw her bouquet at the gathered crowd of curious onlookers.

It was caught by an eighty-year-old woman in a wheelchair. Well, it was never too late for love, was it? Olivia threw the lady a mischievous grin and blew her a kiss before Cole, impatient for a more private sort of party, dragged her all the way to their cabin.

Their combined wedding and honeymoon had proved a fantastic idea. Not only would they get to visit London, Paris and Florence in a few days, but the idea of a transatlantic cruise made it possible to have the private wedding they desired. If anything, they didn’t have to listen to Chad and Fiona’s bickering, and they had the perfect excuse to spend the next few weeks alone—just Cole, Olivia, their love and their unborn baby.

It took a while for them to realize that Olivia was pregnant. In the past three months, they’d been so engrossed in all the changes going on in their lives and the preparations for the trip that it came as a complete—albeit delightful—surprise.

They had also invested much energy into tying some loose ends with respect to their jobs and their lives. Three months after they started dating, Olivia moved into Cole’s much bigger New York apartment. Cole tendered his resignation from the law firm a few months later. His financial and property investments had paid well, and some land he had purchased in the last year was now approved for development. The prospects were plenty and good.

Olivia had also moved to greener pastures. She’d resigned from her job even earlier than Cole and was spending her days glued to her computer, getting re-acquainted with her long-forgotten creative side. She loved it! Her first novel would be due in about four months, and the powers that be at her old company, quite surprisingly, had agreed to publish her.

Their plan was to move to Charleston within three months, at least four months before her due date, so they’d have enough time to prepare for the new arrival. After a mysterious four day trip two months earlier, Cole had returned to her in a peculiar mood. He had made a whole show of preparing dinner that night, and he’d finally surprised her with pictures of their new home, a place that Olivia had pointed out to him with singular enthusiasm while checking out a real estate magazine left lying around at the dentist’s office a while back: an appealing craftsman-style house with a wraparound porch, gourmet kitchen and a bright and airy sunroom for Olivia’s dream office, just a block or two away from the water. He told her she would soon write her stories with the sun glinting on her hair, and he could spend his days indulging in his favorite pastime—looking at her.

“I thought that would never end,” he said as he put out the “Do Not Disturb” sign and entered the cabin, pinning her gently between him and the closed door. She could feel his hard cock pressing insistently against her slightly bulging stomach.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“About a hundred times.”

“Then perhaps I should say it again over a champagne toast. I managed to snag the non-alcoholic variety for you. Or do you want orange juice?”

“Ooh, that sounds lovely. Non-alcoholic is fine.
But just a little. I don’t trust that stuff…”

He went to the table and retrieved two champagne flutes, filled them with the bubbly liquid and offered her one glass as they walked to the couch. They clinked glasses and drank deeply; then he took her glass and placed it next to his on the end table.

Settling himself in the middle of the couch, he pulled her dress up to straddle her on top of his lap. Then, he pressed his fingers between her buttocks, exploring her until he found her wet core, and used two fingers to enter her from behind.

“I love it when you don’t wear any underwear.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not wearing any.”

She rifled her fingers through his hair, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth. He turned one hand around to tenderly caress her belly and lifted the other hand to unpin her hair and run his fingers through it.

She could now feel his freed erection nudging at her entrance.

“You’re mine,
” he mouthed. “My bliss. My heaven.

“
And you are mine,” she mouthed back.

She took his length, devoured him inch by sweet inch, and moved on top of him, around him, letting herself go in a rhythm that would drive them both to sheer ecstasy. The climax was sweet. Strong. A simple, undeniable statement of their love.

A wedding had brought them together. A wedding now sealed their fates, and molded their destinies.

“I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

“And I love you, Mr. Evans.”

“’Til death do us part?”

“I think we’ll still be toasting each other in the afterlife. What do you think?”

“I agree. Now kiss me again.”

And as a good and obedient wife, she did as she was told.

THE END