A Bad Boy is Good to Find(73)

He wanted to kiss her right now, to lose himself in her softness, but Raoul had been strict about the importance of sticking to his planned order of events so he straightened his shoulders and drew in a long, slow breath.

The next reading was by Danny, who recited from memory, hands by his side. During the rehearsal, Con had recognized the familiar prayer from their mother’s prayer book, but hearing it now, at his own real wedding, he suddenly felt as if his mother was right there, kissing him on the cheek again and giving him her blessing. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the powerful sensation and by the almost painful joy of hearing his little brother’s voice after so many years not knowing if he was dead or alive. When he opened them, Danny was smiling at him and Lizzie.

“I missed you, bro,” he said. “And I’m not letting you and your lovely wife out of my sight ever again.”

“Deal,” Con croaked. Lizzie squeezed his hand.

Gia sang a song in her sweet clear voice, and Dino unveiled a limerick he’d composed for the occasion. The jazz band played a rousing interlude, then a hush fell. Con’s heart beat faster. It was time for the vows.

Raoul had written them. Very simple and basic. When the wedding was a charade they’d planned to just respond “I do” to the usual questions. No sense telling a whole bunch of heartbreaking lies on camera. Now he and Lizzie really meant it, they wanted to say the words aloud. And he was up first.

He took a deep breath. Lizzie’s eyes shone. His palms were sweating.

“I, Conroy Beale, take you, Lizzie Hathaway, to be my wife.” A fist of feeling knocked his breath away. Lizzie blinked, and he saw tears hovering behind her smile. She bit her pink lip with those pretty pearl teeth.

“I promise to stand by your side, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer…” He paused, and they both smiled. Been there, done that. “In sickness and in health. To be open and honest with you—” He looked her right in the eye, wanting her to know he meant it. “And to love and cherish you as long as we both shall live.”

He heaved a sigh of relief that he’d managed to remember it all. Again, he fought a fierce urge to seize Lizzie in his arms. To pick her right up and run away with her.

As Lizzie repeated the same vows, he grew lighter and lighter. He clung to her hands, as if he might lift up like a hot-air balloon if he wasn’t anchored to her. Her voice was clear and decisive, not a trace of nerves, just sheer conviction that melted the ground under his feet and made his heart swell.

“May I have the rings, please,” said Raoul.

Danny stepped forward and handed them to him, and Raoul placed Lizzie’s ring in Con’s hand. He knew there were some fancy words he was supposed to say, but they’d gone right out of his head.

“I love you, Lizzie.” He’d never meant anything more in his life and it made the words come out kind of choked, but he didn’t care.

He slid the delicate platinum band onto her finger. It didn’t go on right away, and he had to wiggle it and jiggle it to get it on. Appropriate considering their rocky path to the altar.

They smiled shyly to each other, then Lizzie, tears glittering in her eyes, said, “I love you too, Conroy Beale,” and pushed his ring on. He’d picked it himself from the selection Maisie brought. It was big and fat and gold and shouted, “I’m married.” The sight of it on his finger made him feel solid and steady on his feet again. Rooted in something permanent.

“You may now kiss the bride,” pronounced Raoul.

Thank God.

Con stepped forward and took Lizzie in his arms. His eyes shut as he closed his lips over hers. She melted around him, enclosing him in loving softness that made him want to cry with joy. Their tongues tangled and her fingers roamed into his hair as he held her tight, his palms pressing into the hard little pearls of her gown, squeezing her lush body as livid emotion burned through him.

Throat clearing by Raoul finally tugged him back to the present. They parted, painful, air rushing in where warm lips should be. Lizzie’s whole face glowed, her lips red and her cheeks pink.

“Lizzie and Conroy,” intoned Raoul, “we have heard your promise to share your lives in marriage. We recognize and respect the vows you have made here today before us, and it is my honor and joy to declare you married and partners in life...for life.”



“‘Partners in life’? Raoul, this isn’t a gay wedding, you know. Aren’t you supposed to say ‘man and wife’?” asked Maisie. They sat around the arbor-shaded dining table. The cameras had taken all the shots they needed and been turned off.

“I like the gender neutral approach.” Lizzie lifted a steaming crawdad from the platter in the center of the table. She’d gotten over her fear of the tasty critters. “Otherwise, why shouldn’t it be ‘woman and husband?’”

“Exactly.” Raoul delicately sucked the “butter.” “One has to change with the times. Some would say marriage has had its day, but I happen to think two people wanting to spend the rest of their lives together is about the most beautiful thing in the world.” He sighed as he wiped his fingers on a napkin.

“I agree.” Con raised his glass. “To forever.” Clinking ensued. “Now we’ve just got to get your parents back into the family circle. They’ll like this place.” Con glanced up at the mansion with a look of satisfaction. “And they’ll like me too once they get to know me. I’ll talk ’em around.”

“I bet you will. Charmer.” A smile crept across her mouth. “It’ll be a blast proving they were totally wrong about you.”

“Well,” Con winked. “Not totally wrong…” He leaned over and her cheek sizzled under another hot kiss. “So where shall we put your art studio? How about the old carriage house? Then you could do either canvases or cars, depending on what takes your fancy.”

Lizzie blinked. “I really could paint, couldn’t I?”

“Could? Are you nuts? You’re going to paint. You’ll be a big success too. How else do you plan to support me? We old-school aristos aren’t cheap to keep, you know.”

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth fighting a smile.

Maisie stabbed her fork in the air. “You could always sell one of the cars.”

“Well,” Con leaned back. “What I’d like to do is have fun fixing them up then rent them out for weddings and films and that kind of thing. If Lizzie’s cool with that.”

“I’m cool.” She smiled. “Con was up half the night fixing the Silver Ghost so we could drive away in it for the final shot.” When he’d finally got the engine to turn over and run, he looked as if he’d just had an orgasm. Well, almost. She rubbed the back of his hand. “I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.” His dark-eyed gaze tightened her chest.

“You make me happy too.”

“Uh, oh, I’m getting choked up again.” Raoul reached for a napkin.

“Oh, Raoul. You’re so sentimental.” Maisie snapped open a crawdad. “Marriage is a lot of hard work. At least from what I hear. I seem to have escaped that particular burden of responsibility for the time being. Lizzie obviously has more discerning taste in husbands than I do.”