Adele thanked her sister for everything, and soon the rest of the guests dwindled, and the newlyweds stood on their porch, waving goodbye under a waning moon. When the last had gone, Adele turned to Jerry, remembering what he had said to John earlier.
“What’s the tunnel?” she asked.
He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I should have, but I thought if I kept you out of all this business stuff, you’d be safer.”
“I’m not afraid, Jerry. I’m tougher than that. And I’m your partner now.”
“The tunnel leads to our secret vault.” He indicated an empty space on the lawn between the house and the barn. “John and I dug it out. Most of our whisky is hidden away in there, just in case something like this happened.”
She stared at the yard, amazed. “You have a plan for everything.”
“I try. My pa said if I paid attention to the important things, the rest would fall in line,” he said, then he pulled her around to face him. Therewas a new look in his gaze that stirred her inside. His eyes were hooded, his mouth soft. “You’re the most important thing in my life, Mrs. Bailey. It’s time I paid some special attention to you.” Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms, making her laugh out loud. “I’m gonna start by carrying my bride over the threshold.”
His face, so dear to her, with that scar she knew so intimately, was an inch from hers. His breath was a little sweet from the evening’s whisky, his jaw lightly bristled.
“I can walk, you know,” she said softly. “I’m capable.”
“I know what you’re capable of, Nurse Savard.”
“That’s Nurse Bailey now.”
Holding her against his chest, the silvery white of her gown pressed against his beautiful black suit, he angled them both through the front door. It was the same room they’d just spent hours in, but the atmosphere was something else entirely. The quiet proof that they were alone.
He set her on her feet, then bent his head and kissed her deeply. This place, this moment, this man. This was everything.
Moving slowly, Adele took his hand. “You didn’t show me the rest of the house before.”
He led her up the stairs. “This first one’s John’s room,” he said, “and this is the spare room. I’ve been using it as an office, keeping records and things. I hope it will be a nursery eventually.”
She shared his hope. One day… At the next door, she paused. “And this?”
He grinned. “I think you’ll like this.” He swung the door open to reveal an indoor bathroom.
“What an extravagance,” she gasped as she stepped inside the narrow room. She ran a finger along the bathtub’s smooth white porcelain, then she paused at the sink, with its exposed pipe sticking out from the wall behind.
“My father had started it, so John and I finished it. It took some work, but we figured it out. We wanted to have it ready for you.”
His quiet pride was irresistible, and it was obvious this construction would have been more than just a little bit of work. “Thank you for my toilet,” she teased.
“It’s no more than you deserve,” he said sincerely. Then his hands curled around the sides of her waist and his voice dropped. “If you’re interested, there’s one more room to show you.”
With a rush of desire, she followed Jerry into their bedroom, taking in the pale swirls of green on the wallpaper and the delicate pink roses edging the crown moulding overhead. As she moved with him toward the elegant four-poster bed, she had the impression of crossing into the unknown, like when she’d been afraid to board the ship home so long before, and she shivered with nerves.
Jerry took her fingers in his and kissed the backs of her hands, calming her as he always did. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Adele.”
“I’m not afraid. Never afraid when I’m with you.”
He hesitated, one eyebrow cocked. “Well, I might be a little. It’s important to me that you’re happy.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that wouldn’t make me happy,” she said, and a delicious new fire burst into flame inside her.
She reached up and tucked her finger into the knot of his tie, wiggling it loose, and he bowed his head so she could slip it over his head. He didn’t move as her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, but she saw his nostrils flare slightly when she pushed it back off his shoulders. Her gaze travelled over the muscular slope of them, strong from all that digging, paused on the active pulse at the side of his throat, then she skimmed her fingertips down his chest. His belly rippled.
“I forgot you were ticklish,” she said, then she kissed the centre of his chest. When she looked up, his eyes were closed, and he wore the calmest, most blissful smile. She stared at him a moment, in awe, and something bloomed within her.
Jerry Bailey was hers. To have and to hold. And she wanted very much to do both.
“I’ll need help with my dress,” she said, turning her back to him.
