There was cake, coffee, and punch served in the basement of the church after the ceremony, and it was the longest hour of his life. Betty was at his side the entire time, and he couldn’t wait to be alone with her.
The secretive smiles she kept sending his way told him she felt the same way.
They were standing near the punch table, when Jane asked, “Henry, where is your car? It’s almost time for you two to leave. I carried Betty’s suitcase outside but couldn’t find your car.”
He’d bought a suit, and a ring, thinking that was all he’d need. He hadn’t thought about a car. He’d turned in the Bureau-issued car when he’d left for Washington, DC, and had used trollies since arriving in town a short time ago. “I don’t have a car,” he said.
“You don’t need a car,” Nate said, stepping into the conversation. “I’ll drive you to the hotel. I rented the honeymoon suite for you as my wedding gift.”
“Thank you,” Betty said. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Yes, thank you.” Henry tried to shake off the little quiver that shot up his spine, and did for the most part, but it came again, after the guests had showered them with rice and he and Betty were in the backseat of Nate’s car.
“Your parents and I are staying at the Bay Hotel, too,” Nate said. “I’d like to buy you both dinner tomorrow evening.”
“That would be lovely,” Betty said, her blue eyes twinkling.
“You’ll still be here tomorrow evening?” Henry asked.
“Yes. I’ll be in town for a few days,” Nate said.
Henry could guess the reason, but let it go. Today, he was going to celebrate his marriage with his wife. Tomorrow, he’d tell Nate that he wouldn’t change his mind. That he wouldn’t take back his resignation. Betty didn’t want to be married to an FBI agent, which meant he’d never be one again.
They arrived at the hotel, where the person at the front desk told him his suitcase had been transferred to the honeymoon suite. He thanked the attendant and led Betty to the elevator, once again letting go of how his uncle had thought of everything.
As soon as they entered the room, all thoughts of anyone else completely disappeared as Betty slid her arms up and around his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For coming to the church today. For objecting. For being there when I turned around. I’m so sorry that I thought this couldn’t happen. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why I—”
He kissed her softly, quickly, just to stop her from saying more. “You were scared. We all do things when we are scared, justify things in a way that we think will keep us, or those we love, safe. I did the same thing for years. Didn’t even realize it until you pointed it out to me.”
“What did I point out?”
“That the only thing I loved was my job.” He shook his head. “You were right, I did, because I didn’t have to worry if it loved me back, if I was worthy of love.”
“You are worthy, Henry, you always have been.”
“You made me realize that.” He kissed her again. “I’m so glad we both came to our senses.”
She nodded and giggled. “In the nick of time.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The kiss they shared then was of a man and woman with one thing in mind. They removed their clothes between long, slow, languid kisses that had his pulse hammering and his need screaming for release.
She had so many different smiles. A coy, sweet one. A teasing, sexy one. An oops-you-caught-me-off-guard one. An I-can’t-believe-it one. And an I-love-you one.
He loved them all. Loved the way her eyes shimmered, her cheeks glowed, and her breath caught when he touched her just so.
There was nothing separating them now, not a stitch of clothing, as she lay on her back, golden hair spread out across the pillows and he sat on his knees, looking down at her.
They were both still, eyes locked. There was a smile on her face, the I-love-you one, at the same time there was a serious expression on the rest of her face. He knew what she was thinking because he was thinking the same thing. She’d become everything to him. So dear to him that nothing else in this world mattered.
Her smile shifted, into a teasing one as her eyes glowed even more brightly. She arched her back, upward, toward him.
He ran a hand down her sides, caressing the silkiness of her skin while maintaining his control in order to take this slow, make it last. Make it perfect, because that was what he wanted for her, a perfect life.
She bit down on her bottom lip. “I want you, Henry.”
“You have me.” She did. She had his heart, his mind, and his soul. He placed a row of tiny kisses along her collarbone.
Their eyes met again as he lifted his head. She pulled his face down for a long kiss, and then whispered, “I want all of you. Inside and out.”
He straddled her hips, and half-afraid he might explode at any moment, took ahold of himself and guided his way into her. The heat of her made his hips buck forward and his mouth go dry.
She gasped and wrapped her legs around his.
He could barely draw in a breath of air but managed to say her name. It sounded hoarse, barely a whisper.
She arched upward, and his control was lost. Nearly desperate, he set a fast rhythm that she matched, taking as much as he was giving. This was exactly how it had been before. So in tune with each other, they traversed through the storms building inside each other as smoothly, as joyously, as they had sashayed around the dance floor that first night when they’d won the dance-off.
He should have known then that his life was never going to be the same. Betty, sweet and adorable, and undercover
