My husband frowned at me. “Something’s wrong.”
“No.” I shook my head in denial. “I just . . . Jenna bothers me a little now. I just wanted to get away.”
As Braden searched my face, I wondered if he believed me. In the end I didn’t know if he did or not. But he let it go, bending down to press a soft kiss to my mouth. It was our wedding.
No fighting allowed.
Chapter 4
The Honeymoon—Part 1
“Does that say what I think it says?” I asked, leaning my cheek against Braden’s upper arm. With his hand clasped in mine, I stood next to him before the departures board in Edinburgh Airport quietly excited about our honeymoon to Hawaii, and trying not to be deflated by the information on the board.
Braden gave my hand a squeeze. “Yeah. Delayed.”
Our flight was delayed by a few hours, which meant being stuck in the airport. Luckily Edinburgh wasn’t grimy. In fact it was kind of shiny. We were surrounded by designer shops, restaurants, and an old-fashioned oval bar at one end of the international departure lounge. Still. It was an airport. As human beings we were genetically predisposed to hate them.
My husband let go of my hand to curl me into his side, his hand resting low on my opposite hip. “Do you want to wait in the first-class lounge, get a drink there, or do you want to get a drink at the bar we just passed?” he asked, absentmindedly pressing a kiss to my temple.
This was one of the things I loved about him. After having starved myself of affection for years it had taken me a while to get used to Braden’s tactility but now I wouldn’t know what to do without it. His affection for me came so easily he touched and kissed me all the time, even when he was half-distracted. I’d gone from being uncomfortable with it, to expecting and coveting it.
“Here.” I nodded, taking a reluctant step back. “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
After I peed, I stood in front of the washstand, searching my face in the mirror. After the wedding Ellie had said I looked different. I hadn’t known what she meant at the time but gazing at my reflection I had to wonder if it was something different about my eyes. They were gunmetal gray and tip tilted. They weren’t warm, friendly eyes. I knew from photographs of myself that my eyes tended to come off intense, sometimes kind of bedroomy, even though most of the time it was unintended. The warmth only entered them in photographs that caught me laughing. However, staring into my eyes I could see a shift in them. The intensity hadn’t totally left them, but there was definitely something new reflected there. Something good. Something warm.
I ducked my head, smiling as I dried my hands.
My eyes dropped to my legs. They were bare in the sundress I’d chosen to wear in anticipation of the hot weather in Hawaii. My olive skin was ready to deepen to a tan as I lazed by the pool for the next fourteen days. Vacations weren’t something I ever bothered about because I’d lost all that stuff when I lost my family. However, I’d never been somewhere like Hawaii before. And I’d be there with my hot husband.
Braden and I had busy lives. This was the first time we’d spend a solid fourteen nights just enjoying each other’s company with no interference from work or friends or family. Days by the pool or on the beach, and nights of hot, energetic sex.
My smile turned smug.
Strolling out into the departure lounge I wandered slowly toward the bar, glad at least not to be rushing around in a sweaty, flustered mess as some late passengers were. Eyes drifting over the quiet bar, I found Braden’s back facing me as he sat on a stool. The female bartender kept throwing him surreptitious looks as she pretended to be busy.
Braden wasn’t a classically handsome guy, but he was rugged, sexy, very tall, well built, and he wore his suits better than an Armani model. Since the moment I’d met him I’d been struck by his natural confidence. It was hot. Even when it veered into arrogance, annoying the hell out of me, I still found it hot.
So it didn’t surprise me that a lot of people found my husband attractive too.
When we first started our no-strings-attached relationship I’d pretended not to care when I saw other women flirting with Braden. Afterwards, once I stopped putting him through the wringer and admitted that I loved him as much as he loved me, I’d found it hard not to chase the obnoxious flirts away from him. In fact, sometimes I lost my cool and wasn’t very diplomatic about telling those women that Braden was mine. Of course, he found this amusing and a total turn-on.
Not so much when the shoe was on the other foot.
Still, as our relationship had grown, so had my confidence in us, as had Braden’s, and together we’d mellowed somewhat. Not completely, but enough that right at that moment I didn’t want to stride up to Braden in front of the bartender and stake my claim.
I was going on my honeymoon. I’d taken a huge leap toward putting my issues behind me by even getting married. I was in a damn good mood.
I wanted to play.
Hiding my mischievous grin, I smoothed my features until they were perfectly blank and sauntered toward the bar. However, I didn’t take the stool next to Braden. My heels clicked on the hard, shiny floor as I sashayed onto a stool that gave me a good view of Braden . . . on the opposite side of the bar.
“What can I get you to drink?” the female bartender asked politely.
“A glass of red wine, please.”
I felt Braden’s eyes on me as the bartender turned to get me my drink. Flicking my gaze his way I saw his eyes dancing at my mischief.
He knew exactly what I was up to.