The specialness of the day.
His words reverberated in her brain. That, along with some other phrases that had kept reoccurring with alarming frequency as she’d sat by Ryan’s side during the lunch, exquisitely aware of his touch on her shoulder and arm. Phrases like, I, Faith, take you, Ryan, to be my wedded husband.
Or Father Mike saying, an institution ordained by God, which is not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly.
Faith took a step toward him.
“It was a special day, Ryan. I want to thank you. It...it couldn’t have been any lovelier if we’d planned it for a year.”
He draped his coat on the back of a chair and stepped toward her, his eyes intense. “Did you really think so?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You felt it, too?”
She swallowed. She knew precisely what he meant. No matter how much she wanted to cling on to the comfort of a marriage of convenience, something larger than she’d expected had happened out in the orchard today. Call it the divinely inspired weather, or the fact that Ryan was the most handsome, dashing man she’d ever laid eyes on, or her own foolish heart, but the day would forever be treasured in her memory.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I felt it.”
He stepped closer to her. She looked up at him solemnly. He touched her cheek.
“The day isn’t over yet. Let’s make it last, Faith.”
She swallowed through a constricted throat. She knew exactly what he meant, of course. There was no other way to interpret the hot, possessive gleam in his eyes.
“I’m not sure that’d be a good idea. It’s not what we planned.”
He opened his hand along the side of her neck. His other hand caressed her shoulder, reminding her of how aware—how excited—she’d been while he stroked her during their wedding lunch. He lowered his head.
“To hell with the plan. Life isn’t meant to be planned. It’s meant to be...”
“Lived,” she finished for him shakily. She looked into his eyes. He didn’t move. She knew he wouldn’t, either. He was waiting for her.
She placed her hand on the back of his head and pushed him down to her. She fit her mouth to his, sliding and caressing, nibbling at him...memorizing the feel of him. When she slicked the tip of her tongue between his closed lips, she felt his body leap in arousal next to hers. He groaned, his hands sliding to her waist.
His kiss was like chained desire set free. Faith gave herself to it—to him—completely. Doubt and fear were for another day, not this sunny, glorious, blessed one.
Not her wedding day.
Ryan took her hand and led her down the hallway. He hesitated in front of his bedroom.
“Should we...here?” he asked, waving at the door.
Faith nodded. Her mouth suddenly felt too dry to speak. “Yes,” she managed. “It’s all new.”
He gave her a small smile of understanding and started to lead her into the bedroom. He looked back when Faith didn’t follow.
“I’m going to go and change,” she said breathlessly. Heat scalded her cheeks. “I’ll be right back.”
He just nodded. It was so odd to consider Ryan off balance, so she couldn’t be sure, but she had the strangest impression he was speechless.
She hurried to her bedroom and closed the door. She pulled an ivory-colored silk negligee from her drawer. The exquisite nightgown had been ordered from an online catalogue. Faith hadn’t allowed herself to dwell for long on why she’d bought it. She told herself that it’d been an impulse buy. Didn’t she deserve to spoil herself with luxurious, sexy things once in a while?
She certainly hadn’t allowed herself to consider the meaning of the fact that she’d made the order the day after she’d called Ryan and agreed to marry him.
Changing quickly, she then brushed her hair until it shone. She could see her pulse throbbing at her throat when she inspected her reflection.
Moments later she tapped lightly at Ryan’s partially opened door.