This Man Confessed (2 page)

The door closes, and we maintain our deep eye connection, neither one of us saying anything for the longest time. I just drink him in, every finely tuned muscle, every perfect inch of pure beauty.

He finally speaks. “I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face.”

“No?”

He shakes his head mildly. “There’ll be lace if I do, won’t there?”

I nod.

“White lace?”

“Ivory.”

His chest expands slightly. This could be dangerous for my hair, makeup, and underwear if those eyes stray from my face. It could also be dangerous for our strict time schedule. I’m expecting Tessa up here at any moment to check that I’m ready before she hits me with how many steps it is to the summer room and how long it should take me to get there.

He blinks a few times, and I know he’ll never resist a peek; he’d just better control himself, and I’d better control myself, too. It’s hard. Sweat beads are trailing down his temple, across his neck, and onto his solid chest, before shimmering as they travel the waves of his stomach and disperse in the waistband of his shorts. I shift as his eyes break from mine and lazily drag down my body, his chest heaving more severely as his gaze makes its journey. I’m bombarded with tingles.

I make my move before he does, walking slowly across the room and stopping close to his sweat-coated body. Then I flick my gaze up to his lush lips. His breathing escalates.

 “You’ve just trampled my mother.” I try to hide the lust in my voice, but fail miserably.

“She was in my way,” he says quietly, breathing down on me.

“This is bad luck. You’re not supposed to see me before our wedding.”

“Stop me.” His head dips so his lips brush over mine gently, but he doesn’t touch my body. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been twelve hours.”

“Too long.” He runs his tongue slowly across my bottom lip, enticing a quiet moan from me. I’m instantly fighting the natural instinct to grab his big shoulders. “You’ve had a drink.”

“Just a sip.” He’s like a bloodhound. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You can’t look like this and say things like that, Ava.” His lips push to mine, his tongue seeking entry, encouraging my lips to part and accept him into my mouth. The hot warmth of him dispels my nerves; everything is forgotten as he claims me, but still keeps his hands to himself. Our sweeping tongues are the only contact between us, but it’s as consuming as ever. My senses are saturated, my mind scrambled, and my body begging for him. But he just maintains the slow, fluid movements of his tongue, withdrawing occasionally to tease my lips, before plunging back into my mouth. I hum at his exquisite pace, the inevitable bang dropping between my thighs as he worships me delicately.

“Jesse, we’re going to be late for our wedding.” I need to halt this before one of us takes it to the next level. It might be me.

“Don’t tell me to stop kissing you, Ava.” He bites my bottom lip and drags it slowly through his teeth. “Never tell me to stop kissing you.” He lowers himself to his knees and takes my hands, pulling me down. I kick my shoes off and join him. He watches his thumbs circling over the tops of my hands for a while before lifting his glorious greens to find my eyes. “Are you ready to do this?”

I frown. “Are you asking me if I still want to marry you?”

His lips tip a little. “No, you don’t get a choice. I’m just asking if you’re ready.”

I struggle to stop my own small smile at his candidness. “And what if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

“Then why ask?”

His lips turn into a shy smile, and he shrugs. “You’re nervous. I don’t want you to be nervous.”

“I’m nervous because of
where
I’m getting married.”

His smile falls away. “Ava, everything has been taken care of. I said not to worry so you shouldn’t. End of.”

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.” I drop my head, feeling a little guilty for doubting he’d keep his word. I know exactly why we’re marrying at The Manor. No waiting list. No other bookings to work around. It’s where he could get me down the aisle without delay.

“Hey.” He tips my chin back up, making me look at his achingly handsome face. “Stop it now. Ava, baby, I want you to cherish today, not get your knickers in a twist over something that’s never going to happen. They’ll never know. I promise.”

I shake myself out of my uneasiness and smile, feeling better for hearing his reassuring words. I believe him. “Okay.”

I watch as he stands and strolls over to a big chest, pulling something from the drawer and returning a few moments later with a bath sheet. My brow furrows as he drops back to his knees and wipes his face, then ruffles his damp hair before laying it across his chest.

He opens his arms. “Come here.”

I waste no time crawling onto his lap and letting him surround me in his arms, my cheek resting on his chest through the towel.

“Better?” he asks, pulling me in closer.

“Much better,” I whisper. “I love you, my Lord.”

I feel him jerk a little under me, a silent hint of his quiet laugh. “I thought I was your God.”

“You’re that, too.”

“And you are my temptress. Or you could be my Lady of The Manor.”

I jump off his chest and find him grinning at me. “I am not being your Lady of the Sex Manor!”

He laughs and yanks me back down, making a meal of stroking my glossy hair and inhaling deeply on a satisfied pull of breath. “Whatever you want, lady.”

“Just lady will do.” I’m aware of my hands sliding all over his damp back, but I really don’t care. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I know you are, Ava.”

“I need to get ready. I’m getting married, you know.”

“You are? Who’s the lucky bastard?”

I smile and pull myself away from his body again. I need to see him. “He’s a challenging, neurotic control freak.” I reach up and cup his rough cheek. “He’s so handsome.” I whisper, searching his eyes, which are watching me so closely. “This man stops me breathing when he touches me and fucks me until I’m delirious.” I wait for his scorn, but his lips just press into a straight line, so I lean up and kiss his chin, working my way to his lips. “I can’t wait to marry him.”

“What would this man say if he caught you kissing another man?” he asks around my mouth.

I grin. “Oh, he’d probably castrate him, offer burial or cremation, that type of thing.”

His eyes widen. “He sounds possessive. I don’t think I want to take him on.”

“You really don’t. He’ll trample all over you.” I shrug, and he laughs. It’s that eye-sparkling laugh, the one that has light creases fanning his beautiful greens. “Happy?” I ask.

“No, I’m shitting myself.” He falls back, taking me with him. “But I’m feeling brave. Kiss me.”

I dive right in, smothering his face with my lips and humming in sweet contentment, but I don’t get long to indulge myself.

The door swings open. “Jesse Ward! Get your sweat-covered body off my daughter!” Mum’s shocked cry pierces the privacy of our moment.

I start laughing, my mum’s scorn not stopping me from getting my fix of Jesse. And he lets me.

“Ava! You’ll smell. Get up!” Her angry heels start thumping toward us. “Tessa, help me out here, will you?”

I suddenly feel a mass of hands grasping at different parts of my body, trying to pull me from Jesse. “Mum! Stop it!” I laugh, gripping Jesse harder. “I’ll get up!”

“Get up then! You’re getting married in half an hour, your hair is a mess, and you’ve broken an ancient tradition, rolling around on the floor with your husband-to-be.” She huffs and puffs a bit more. “Tessa, tell her!”

“Yes, come on, Ava.” Tessa’s harsh husk stabs at my skin. She’s nice enough, but the woman is frighteningly fierce with organization.

“Okay, okay,” I grumble, dragging myself from Jesse’s body.

“Oh, look at you,” Mum moans, trying to smooth my wild mane. I struggle to keep a straight face as I watch Jesse make no attempt to leave, but rather brace his arms under his head so he can watch as my mum pulls and pokes at me. She turns angry, chocolate eyes onto my challenging man. “Out!”

“All right.” He rises from the floor in one fluid effort, his delicious muscles bunching and rippling as he does. Tessa’s staring doesn’t escape my notice, but she soon snaps out of her dumbstruck state when she catches me watching her with raised eyebrows.

“I’ll take care of the groom!” she declares, averting her eyes. “Jesse, come on.”

“Wait.” He looks at my chest. “Where’s your diamond?”

“Shit!” My hand instantly flies up to my breastbone, my eyes darting around on the floor. “Shit, shit, shit! Mum!”

“Ava!” Jesse yells, “Please! Watch your mouth!”

“Don’t panic!” Mum drops to her knees and starts looking under the bed, while I scan every inch of the plush carpet.

“Here it is!” Tessa sweeps it up from the floor, and Jesse abruptly snatches it from her hand before making his way over to me.

“Turn around,” he huffs, and I comply immediately, my heart hammering in my chest. That damn fucking diamond will be the death of me. “There.” His lips fall onto my shoulder, his hips pushing into my bum.

“That’ll teach you for frolicking on the floor,” Mum huffs. “Now, out!” She starts tugging at Jesse’s arm, but he doesn’t brush her off.

I turn and wave at him, then curtsy, prompting another huff from my mother and a cheeky grin from Jesse, before he lets Tessa usher him out of the suite.

“Right. In that dress, Ava O’Shea. Where is it?”

I point to the bathroom and sit myself on the end of the bed. “Bathroom. And you won’t be able to call me that soon,” I say haughtily.

She stomps across the room. “You will always be Ava O’Shea to me,” she grumbles. “Up. Your father will be here in a minute to escort you downstairs.”

I stand and rearrange my underwear. “Is he okay?”

“Your dad? Nervous, but it’s nothing a few whiskeys won’t cure. He hates being in the limelight.”

He does. He’ll be keen to hand me over to Jesse so he can escape the attention and blend back into the crowd.

My dress is removed from the hanger and held in front of me. I rest my hand on Mum’s shoulder and step into it, letting her pull it up my front so I can slip my arms through the delicate straps before she turns me around and fastens the dozens of tiny pearl buttons running down my lower spine. She’s quiet, and she’s stopped moving. I know what I’m going to see if I turn around, and I’m not sure I can cope with it. Then I hear a small sniff.

“Mum, please don’t.”

Her hands kick back into action. “What?”

I turn around, and my suspicions are confirmed. Her eyes are clouded and she lets out a small sob. “Mum,” I warn softly.

“Oh, Ava.” She runs to the bathroom, and I hear the frantic yanking of toilet paper from the roll. She appears in the doorway, dabbing under her eyes with some tissue. “I’m sorry. I was doing so well.”

“You were,” I confirm. “Hey, help me out here.” Distraction, that’s what she needs.

“Yes, yes. What should I do?”

“Shoes.” I point to my shoes where I kicked them off, and she scoops them up, placing them at my feet.

“Thank you.” I lift my pooling dress and slip my feet back into my Louboutins. “How’s my face?”

She laughs. “You mean after you’ve just rubbed it over every inch of Jesse’s?”

“Yes,” I answer, walking across to the bathroom to inspect it myself.

“You could probably do with an extra brush of powder.”

She’s right; I could. I look a little flushed. I sweep my makeup brush across my cheeks before refreshing my nude lips and applying a little extra mascara. My hair isn’t as silky smooth after my little roll around on the floor, but the comb is still securely in place. I feel better. He does that to me. He draws all of the anxiety right out of me with his presence, and now I can’t wait to get my lace-clad arse downstairs to meet him.

I pull up the hem of my dress and walk out of the bathroom, flicking my hair over my shoulder and blowing out a calming breath. “I’m ready,” I declare, coming to an abrupt halt when I see that my mum is no longer alone.

“Oh, Joseph, look at her!” Mum cries, turning into my dad’s shoulder and blubbering all over his charcoal suit. Kate reaches up and strokes Mum’s back on a small eye roll, and Dad tenderly wraps his arm around her waist. This is rare. He’s not a touchy-feely man at all.

I smile at him, and he returns my beam. “Don’t you start,” I warn.

“I’m saying nothing.” He laughs. “Except how beautiful you look. Really beautiful, Ava.”

“Really?” I ask, shocked by his open display of affection, even if it is just words.

“Yes, really.” He nods sharply. “Now, are you ready?” He shifts my mum away from his body and brushes his suit down, pretending he hasn’t just said some loving words to his daughter.

“Yes, I’m more than ready. Take me to Jesse,” I demand, and that has the desired effect, everyone laughing at my order. Much better. I can’t cope with all of this intensity. Jesse provides me with enough of that.

Tessa barges in. “Come on, then. What’s the holdup?” she asks, scanning the bodies that are all staring at me. “Elizabeth, Kate, downstairs, please.” She escorts them from the room. “Ava, I’ll meet you at the summer room in three minutes.”

She exits sharply, leaving me and my dad alone. “You know, Dad, you have to link arms with me now,” I tease.

His face screws up. “For how long?”

“Well, for however long it takes you to walk me downstairs.” I pick up my calla lily—just one calla lily.

“Let’s get our arses in gear, then.” He cocks his arm to the side, and I link it with mine. “Ready?”

I nod and let my dad lead me down to the summer room, where my Lord of the Sex Manor is waiting for me.

K
ate and Tessa are waiting for us outside the doors to the summer room, my wedding planner looking pleased, Kate looking tipsy. Kate bends down to spread my dress neatly. “I can’t believe you’re not wearing a veil.”

“He wants to see my face,” I say quietly, clenching my eyes shut, the enormity of what I’m about to do suddenly overwhelming me. I can feel my chest expanding, and I’m beginning to shake. I’ve known this man for only two months. How did this happen?

The doors to the summer room open and music immediately drifts into my ears. Only now when I’m hearing Etta James’ “At Last” does it occur to me that I didn’t even pick the music for my wedding. I’ve done absolutely nothing. I have no idea what’s happening or when and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. My eyes are flying all over the floor and I’m suddenly feeling tearful.

Dad nudges me with his elbow, and I glance up at him, finding soft, reassuring eyes. He cocks his head to the side on a small smile, and I follow his indication to look, clenching my lips together and slowly turning my eyes. Damn, I’ve done so well. I know all heads are turned in my direction, but it’s the green-eyed man at the end of the aisle who holds my attention. His hands are joined and draped loosely in front of his gray, three-piece suit, his body turned fully toward me. His lips part and he shakes his head a little, never taking his eyes from mine. Dad nudges me again, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding, forcing my feet to lift and carry me onward, but I make it only two steps before he starts toward me. I hear Mum’s shocked gasp, no doubt reeling at Jesse’s lack of respect for tradition, and I stop, halting my dad’s progression, to wait for him. His face is completely straight, and when he makes it to me, he blisters my skin with his scorching gaze, his eyes running over every part of my face before settling on my lips. Slowly lifting his arm, his hand cups my cheek and his thumb runs over my flesh. I nuzzle into it; I can’t help it. All anxiety is drawn from me by his touch, my heart steadying and my body starting to relax again.

He bends down and puts his lips to my ear. “Give me your hand,” he whispers.

I hold out my hand to him, and he pulls away from me, taking my offering gently and placing his lips on the back. Then he snaps a pair of handcuffs over my wrist.

I gasp, my eyes shooting to his face, finding a small smile tickling the edges of his beautiful lips. But he doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes down and makes quick work of securing the cuffs. What the hell is he doing? I glance up at my dad, but he just shakes his head, and then I look across to my mother, seeing her head in her hands, obviously despairing. I’m released from my dad’s hold before he makes his way to the front to join Mum, her shocked whisper attacking him as he arrives by her side. My eyes drift over the congregation, noting all of the people who know Jesse are smiling, the ones who don’t displaying wide eyes and gaping mouths. Kate and Sam are chuckling, John’s flashing his gold tooth, and then there’s my brother. He’s not impressed.

I find my senses then find his eyes. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

He leans in and kisses me gently on the lips, then moves across my cheek to my ear. “You look so fuckable.”

I gasp again, my face flashing red. “Jesse, people are waiting.”

“Then they’ll wait.” He trails his way back to my lips. “I
really, really, really
like this dress.”

Of course he does; it’s pure lace. I flick my eyes to my mother, seeing her looking at the registrar all apologetic, and a small smile breaks the corners of my lips. I reach up to thread my fingers through his dark, dirty blond hair and tug. “Mr. Ward, you’re keeping
me
waiting.”

I feel him grin against my ear. “Are you ready to love, honor, and
obey
me?”

“Yes. Marry me now.”

He pulls back and hits me with his smile, reserved only for me. “Let’s get married, my beautiful girl.” He joins our handcuffed hands and starts leading me down the aisle.

“Here.” He hands me a half-full flute of champagne. “Take it easy, Mrs. Ward.”

I take the glass with my free hand before he can withdraw his offer. He’s been even more unreasonable about my drinking lately. “Are you going to remove the cuffs now?”

“No,” he answers swiftly. “You’re not leaving my side all day long.” He signals for a bottle of water from Mario, and I’m suddenly reminded that I’ll never enjoy a drink with Jesse, not even on our wedding day.

I glance around the bar, seeing everyone chatting, nibbling on canapés, and drinking champagne. It’s relaxed and calm, just how I feel myself. After Jesse insulted all things traditional, we made our vows and he took it upon himself to drown me in his mouth—prior to getting the go-ahead from the registrar. Then he picked me up and strode out of the summer room, leaving my poor mother chasing behind, demanding he wait for the music. Not a chance. I was placed neatly on my stool at the bar and smothered with his lips while the congregation made their way in behind us.

Dan catches my attention across the room. He’s being so quiet, his attention constantly pointed in Kate’s direction, which means it’s also pointed in Sam’s.

“What are you thinking about?”

I pull my attention back to Jesse and smile. “Nothing.”

He rests his palm on the back of my neck and massages me. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly. I’m delirious. He knows I am.

“Good, then my work here is done. Kiss me, wife.” He leans down, offering me his lips.

Reaching up, I pull him down to me, giving him exactly what he wants.

“Enough!” Mum’s shrill voice stabs at my eardrums. “Get those handcuffs off my daughter!” She starts fiddling with my wrist. “Jesse Ward, you would try the patience of a saint! Where’s the key?”

He pulls back and narrows his eyes on Mum. “Somewhere you’ll never want to venture, Elizabeth.”

She gasps and throws irritated eyes at me. “Your husband is a menace.”

“I love him,” I declare, and she fights a fond smile from her cherry red lips. She’s desperate to maintain her grievance, but I know she loves him, too. I know she loves how much he loves me, and while he infuriates her, he also charms her, as he does all women. Just because Elizabeth happens to be my mother doesn’t make her immune to his potency.

“I know you do, darling.” She turns her attention to the bar, calling Mario for some of his Most Marvelous.

“Right!” Tessa dives over and takes my glass from my hand. “The photographer is ready. I thought we’d get the family shots done first, then have you two alone for a few. You’ll need to remove those cuffs.”

I watch as my glass is placed on the bar before she makes a grab for Jesse’s water, but he swipes it away, leaving Tessa grabbing at thin air. “We’re not in the photos. I told you.”

“We’re not?” I blurt, completely shocked. He’s trampling that tradition, too?

“You must be in the photos,” Tessa insists. “What memories will you have?” She looks horrified.

“I don’t need pictures for memories.”

I look at him in horror. “We’re not in the family shots?” Oh God, another reason for my mum to despair.

“No,” he answers decisively.

“You can’t begrudge her a photo with her daughter!” Tessa pleads.

He doesn’t answer; he just shrugs nonchalantly, completely unfazed.

I roll my eyes. “You do it on purpose,” I grumble. “We’re having photos.”

“No, we’re not.”

I glare at my delicious husband with narrowed, determined eyes. He is not trampling this. “We are having photographs. This is my wedding, too, Ward.”

His mouth drops open, his bottle pausing halfway to his lips. “But I want some quiet time. Just me and you.”

“We’re having photos,” I say, full of authority. I feel a sulk coming on, but I’m not letting him win this one.

He scowls slightly, but he doesn’t argue with me. Instead, he signals for Tessa to gather our guests and take them into the rear grounds of The Manor. I watch as she flies into commander role, shouting for everyone to follow on.

“Come on, then,” he grumbles, lifting me from the stool and placing me neatly on my feet. I mentally cheer to myself. He’s learning, or perhaps it’s me who’s learning—learning how to deal with him. I’m not sure, but we’re making immense progress. He knows when to relent, as do I.

He leads me out into the sunshine, where Tessa is directing people into various positions, but my mother is quickly repositioning bodies as we approach. I look across and see Kate being ravished by Sam, my eyes instantly darting toward Dan and finding what I knew I would. A filthy look. Is she doing this on purpose?

I look up at Jesse. “Please, just do what you’re told.” The more he plays up, the longer this will take and the more stressed my mum will get.

“If you promise me quiet time after.”

“I promise you quiet time,” I say on a laugh.

“Good. I hate sharing you,” he grumbles, and I smile. I know he does.

Jesse spends the next hour cooperating completely. He moves when asked, smiles when requested, and even releases me from the cuffs without complaint when I have some shots on my own. On the final click, I’m swiftly scooped up and carried back to The Manor.

It’s not long before we’re alone in one of The Manor’s suites—the suite where he cornered me and tried to seduce me, the suite where I got myself ready for our wedding. The door closes softly behind us, and I’m led to the grand, satin-adorned bed. He lifts me and crawls up the bed, settling me beneath him.

Now I’ve got a set of lustful greens gazing down at me. “Quiet time,” he whispers, dropping a soft kiss on my lips before his face burrows straight into my neck.

“You want to snuggle?” I ask, a little surprised.

“I do.” He nuzzles further. “I want to snuggle with my wife. Are you going to deny me?”

“No.”

“Good. Our marriage is getting off to the best start, then.”

So I let him snuggle. I absorb his weight, his smell, and his heart beating against my chest. I like quiet time, but as I gaze up at the high ceiling, my mind naturally wanders to the thoughts that have been lingering for weeks—the thoughts that I have tried my hardest to bat away. Impossible. The perfection of this moment, of our love for each other, is clouded by the reality of the challenges ahead.

There has been no contact from Mikael, so I assume he is still in Denmark. I’ve been spared that challenge for now. There’s been no sight of Coral, either, and Sarah has been kicked out on her arse after admitting to everything I absolutely knew she did. I’ve not heard from Matt, so he’s definitely got the message, but I’m still far too curious about his knowledge of Jesse’s drinking issue. And then there’s my period, which is due on Monday. I’ve never wished so hard for something.

Jesse would love to have me nailed to his side—he’s made that clear—and perhaps he thinks a baby would achieve that. He would see it as the perfect excuse for me to give up work, something else he would like to happen. But I love my job. I love spending my days designing and interacting with clients. I’ll battle with him on this…if I’m not pregnant. I’ve no idea what I’ll do if I am. I’ve been making him wear condoms for two weeks, and he’s demonstrated his disgust, but if I’m not pregnant, then I want it to stay that way.

“Will you do something for me?” I ask quietly.

“Anything.” His hot breath on my neck has my face turning into him, encouraging him to look at me. His head lifts from its hiding place, his hair now a disheveled mess, his greens finding my eyes. “What do you want, baby?”

“Can you
please
resist talking to Patrick about Mikael?” I brace myself for his scoff. I’ve managed to keep him from my boss, but with Patrick and Irene arriving later for the evening reception, I’m not sure Jesse can hold himself back.

“I agreed not to visit Patrick if you spoke with him. And I don’t believe you have.” He raises expectant eyebrows at me.

No, I haven’t, because I have no idea how to approach this. He was shocked enough to hear I was marrying one of my clients. I could hardly hit him with the news that I’m about to jump ship on Rococo Union’s most important client, the client who guarantees Patrick’s comfortable retirement.

“Give me until Monday,” I plead. “I’ll talk to him on Monday.”

“Monday,” he affirms, his eyes slightly narrowed. “I mean it, Ava. You’ve got till Monday, and then I’m stepping in.”

“Okay.”

He grunts a little, and then buries himself back in my neck. “When do I get to take you away?”

“I did warn you there would be no honeymoon for a while. You accepted that, remember?”

He lifts his head and points a scowl at me. “So when am I going to get my wife to myself? When am I going to be able to love her?”

“You always love me. When I’m not working, I’m with you. And you text and call me often enough, so I’m technically connected to you all day, anyway.” I need to approach this issue, too. He’s relentless.

“I want you to give up working.” He’s pouting, and I’m shaking my head, just like I have every time he’s suggested this. He’s not demanding yet, but that’s coming, most likely when Mikael rears his ugly head. “Be a lady of leisure,” he presses.

“How would I be a lady of leisure if I’m permanently nailed to you?”

His hips push into my groin, enticing a sharp intake of breath from me. “Okay. Be a lady of pleasure, then.” He’s grinning at me, the crafty arse, and I suspect a sense fuck is on the horizon. I’d love him to take me hard. It would make a nice change after the last few weeks of gentle Jesse.

“Ward, you’re not taking me now. Anyway, we should get downstairs before Mum comes searching for us.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Your mother’s a pain in the fucking arse.”

“Don’t wind her up, then.” I laugh.

He shifts off me and pulls me to the edge of the bed. “She needs to accept who has the power,” he says candidly, starting to recuff me.

My amusement increases. “You’re touching me. Of course you have the power.” I attempt to pull my hand free from his grip, but the clanging of metal soon tells me he’s already managed to secure me. I look up at him. He’s grinning that roguish grin.