diamonds that tiered to a one caret flawless stone. Suppressing a smile, Ford tipped her chin back up, wanting to look into her eyes while they promised to love, honor and cherish one another—until death did they part. That was a pledge he intended to keep. She believed he was marrying her for the baby she carried, and though that was a good portion of the reason, he silently admitted that he’d dreamed too many times to count of making Grace completely his.
Reverend Jones finally closed his Bible and glanced at the newly married couple. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Ford’s gaze dropped to Grace’s sensual mouth as he waited impatiently for the good reverend to give him permission to kiss his new bride. As her husband, that was one privilege he planned to take advantage of. But much to Ford’s disappointment, Reverend Jones only said, “Congratulations to the both of you.”
Before Ford could take it upon himself to perform the traditional seal-of-vows kiss—and he’d been seconds away from taking matters into his own hands—Grace turned toward Marie, putting a major crimp in Ford’s plan.
Grace embraced the older woman in an affectionate hug. “Thank you for coming, Marie,” Grace said, her tone heartfelt and quivering with emotion. “It meant a lot to me to have you here.”
“There’s no way I could have refused you,” Marie replied, her green eyes suspiciously moist. Then she turned toward Ford and shook her finger at him. “You take real good care of my girl, you hear?”
The woman’s fierce protectiveness amused and touched Ford. “I intend to, Marie,” he promised.
“See that you do, or else you’ll answer to me.” The stern lecture ebbed into a fond, amicable smile. “Now, I insist that the two of you come by the cafe so I can feed you both before you go home. No sense having to worry about cooking on your wedding night.”
The relief Ford detected in Grace’s expression was unmistakable, making him realize that she’d been worried about more than cooking a meal on her wedding night—she was nervous about being alone with him.
There was no reason for her to be skittish around him, because he planned to make their arrangement as easy on her as possible—no barbaric marital demands, and no unrealistic expectations. He’d only take what he could coax her to willingly give him.
He wanted her trust, and he intended to secure it; he’d need every ounce of her support and faith for what lay ahead.
“You settling in okay?”
Ford’s deep, rumbling voice caused a shiver to ripple down Grace’s spine, prompting her to glance over her shoulder. She found him lounging in the doorway of the guest bedroom, still wearing the chocolate colored slacks he’d donned for the ceremony, but the matching jacket was gone, and so was his tie. The first three buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and he’d cuffed his sleeves to reveal strong, tanned forearms.
Despite her resolve to maintain her emotional distance from him, her heart fluttered beneath her breast. The man was too sexy and appealing for her peace of mind.
“I’m settling in just fine,” she said, valiantly trying to concentrate on the task of putting away the clothing, toiletries, and other personal items that they’d picked up from her cottage on the way out to his house at Cutter Creek.
“Good.” He smiled amicably, producing one of those gorgeous dimples that made her pulse race. “I want you to be comfortable, since this is your house now, too.”
With a sweep of her hand she indicated the queen-sized bed covered in a plain hunter green spread and mahogany dresser against the far wall. “This is great.” The room was a bit on the masculine side, and simply decorated, but she was certain once she brought over some of her things it would feel and look more like the feminine haven she’d grown used to at the cottage.
She was still surprised, and relieved, that Ford
Reverend Jones finally closed his Bible and glanced at the newly married couple. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Ford’s gaze dropped to Grace’s sensual mouth as he waited impatiently for the good reverend to give him permission to kiss his new bride. As her husband, that was one privilege he planned to take advantage of. But much to Ford’s disappointment, Reverend Jones only said, “Congratulations to the both of you.”
Before Ford could take it upon himself to perform the traditional seal-of-vows kiss—and he’d been seconds away from taking matters into his own hands—Grace turned toward Marie, putting a major crimp in Ford’s plan.
Grace embraced the older woman in an affectionate hug. “Thank you for coming, Marie,” Grace said, her tone heartfelt and quivering with emotion. “It meant a lot to me to have you here.”
“There’s no way I could have refused you,” Marie replied, her green eyes suspiciously moist. Then she turned toward Ford and shook her finger at him. “You take real good care of my girl, you hear?”
The woman’s fierce protectiveness amused and touched Ford. “I intend to, Marie,” he promised.
“See that you do, or else you’ll answer to me.” The stern lecture ebbed into a fond, amicable smile. “Now, I insist that the two of you come by the cafe so I can feed you both before you go home. No sense having to worry about cooking on your wedding night.”
The relief Ford detected in Grace’s expression was unmistakable, making him realize that she’d been worried about more than cooking a meal on her wedding night—she was nervous about being alone with him.
There was no reason for her to be skittish around him, because he planned to make their arrangement as easy on her as possible—no barbaric marital demands, and no unrealistic expectations. He’d only take what he could coax her to willingly give him.
He wanted her trust, and he intended to secure it; he’d need every ounce of her support and faith for what lay ahead.
“You settling in okay?”
Ford’s deep, rumbling voice caused a shiver to ripple down Grace’s spine, prompting her to glance over her shoulder. She found him lounging in the doorway of the guest bedroom, still wearing the chocolate colored slacks he’d donned for the ceremony, but the matching jacket was gone, and so was his tie. The first three buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and he’d cuffed his sleeves to reveal strong, tanned forearms.
Despite her resolve to maintain her emotional distance from him, her heart fluttered beneath her breast. The man was too sexy and appealing for her peace of mind.
“I’m settling in just fine,” she said, valiantly trying to concentrate on the task of putting away the clothing, toiletries, and other personal items that they’d picked up from her cottage on the way out to his house at Cutter Creek.
“Good.” He smiled amicably, producing one of those gorgeous dimples that made her pulse race. “I want you to be comfortable, since this is your house now, too.”
With a sweep of her hand she indicated the queen-sized bed covered in a plain hunter green spread and mahogany dresser against the far wall. “This is great.” The room was a bit on the masculine side, and simply decorated, but she was certain once she brought over some of her things it would feel and look more like the feminine haven she’d grown used to at the cottage.
She was still surprised, and relieved, that Ford
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