Baby for the Billionaire(84)
The minister cut across his thoughts, speaking the timeless words to conclude the ceremony. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Jack didn’t require any further prompting. He cupped Annalise’s face and tilted it upward. Her veil fluttered like a flag of surrender, while her curls shivered in protest. But her eyes, those glorious honey-gold eyes, gazed at him with undisguised want. Was she even aware of how much they gave away? He doubted it. If she had the least suspicion, she’d have done everything in her power to tuck the truth away behind that serene facade she clung to with such determination. He hoped Taye and Derek didn’t notice her expression. That was his, and his alone, something he refused to share with anyone else.
Slowly he lowered his head and captured her mouth. Her lips were softer than the roses in Isabella’s basket and tasted of sunshine and warmth. He filled his hands with the glorious weight of her hair and the silken curls twined around his fingers, anchoring them together. She sighed against his mouth, the sound one of sweet surrender. If he could have gathered up all the various scents and sounds and tastes and preserved them for all time, he would have given his fortune to do so. But moments like this didn’t last, and their kiss was no exception.
From the direction of the house a great booming woof broke the spell and the ground shook beneath their feet. Madam erupted from the kitchen and spilled onto the patio. Catching sight of the three of them, she gave her widest, most delighted grin and charged across the lawn.
The minister uttered a word that Jack was fairly certain couldn’t be found anywhere in the Bible he held and scurried behind the nearest tree. The string quartet grabbed their instruments and made a beeline for the gate exiting from the yard, toppling chairs in their haste to escape. Taking a cue from them, the minister made a speedy departure, as well. Only Taye, Derek and the photographer didn’t budge. While his friends burst into shouts of laughter, the photographer simply kept snapping pictures as the beast joined in the festivities.
With a thundering bark of excitement, Madam reared back and lunged at Jack, felling him with one blow. Unfortunately, his hands were still anchored in Annalise’s hair. She tumbled onto the grass beside him, in a tangled heap of silk and lace. Isabella launched herself at Madam, attempting to pull the dog off them. It was like watching a kitten attempt to subdue a moose. She ended up riding Madam like a pony, her bonnet turned half sideways, her dainty skirts hitched to her knees.
Beside him he felt Annalise’s shoulders tremble and a muffled sound escaped, something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “Are you hurt?” He tried to find her through all the lace, satin and tulle. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry. It’ll be all right.”
She managed to push aside her veil and a heavy swath of curls, revealing eyes swimming with tears. But they weren’t tears of sorrow or anger. She tilted back her head and burst out laughing. His mouth twitched. And then he was laughing, too.
“So much for a traditional, elegant affair,” he muttered.
“Considering ours isn’t exactly a traditional family to begin with, it seems quite appropriate to me.” Annalise attempted to twitch her skirts into place, skirts that had ridden up high enough to reveal—Lord preserve his sanity—a tantalizing glimpse of a sexy lace garter and a hint of creamy thigh. “And, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not really cut out for elegant.”
Jack leaned in and kissed her, a brief, thorough kiss that left her cheeks glowing and her eyes sparkling. “Do I look disappointed?” He shoved at the dog. “You two are now officially forbidden from sneaking Madam any more treats. She’s getting so fat, she’s practically waddling. And as for you two—” He shot his friends a glare that only served to increase their amusement. “Thanks for your help.”
Derek offered a broad grin. “Anytime.”
“My pleasure,” Taye added.
Jack gained his feet and helped his bride to hers. With one stern command, he had Isabella removed from Madam’s back and the dog sitting calmly at his heels. The photographer stepped forward.
“Would you like a few formal shots?” His mouth twitched. “I think all the informal poses are covered.”
“But we’re a mess,” Annalise protested.
Jack shook his head. “You look beautiful.”
Her amusement faded, replaced by concern. “You wanted this to look good,” she explained in a low voice. “I know how important it is.”
“It’ll be fine. Here, just a few minor adjustments …”