'Parker have you got the rings, sweetheart?'
'Yes, mum,' he smiled proudly at Macy. 'You look beautiful.'
'Thank you,' she hugged him. 'So do you, you look gorgeous.'
'Thanks mum.'
'Let me see the rings,' Macy asked.
Parker rolled his eyes and removed the little box from his inside breast pocket. 'Dad said I should keep them here,' he pointed to the said pocket. Parker felt extremely honoured that his dad had entrusted him with something so important.
'Please, please don't lose them,' Macy pleaded.
'I won't mum. Are you ready now? The limo is waiting,' Parker announced elaborately.
Twain had wanted Macy and her family to be escorted to the church in style. He'd made sure to hire a limo to escort, Claudia, Don and Parker and Macy's maid of honour. Parker could not understand why his dad could not leave with them in the same vehicle.
'Now for the something borrowed,' Nicky Stone her best friend since high school, grinned.
'What is it?' Macy laughed.
She had earlier shown Nicky the very sexy lingerie that Twain had delivered to her early this morning. It had been white satin, with sapphire blue lace trimmings. The card had said, "something new, something blue ... for my bride."
Nicky retrieved a sterling silver ankle bracelet from her purse and held it out for Macy to look at. Macy was not wearing any jewellery today, other than Twain's engagement ring. Her hair was styled, flowing over her ears, so all she had on were tiny diamond studs. That took care of the something old.
'Show me some leg,' Nicky laughed, going down on her knees.
Macy giggled, carefully lifting her gown and pushed her right ankle forward. 'That looks expensive Nicky,'
'That's why you're only borrowing it,' Nicky smiled, standing to her feet again.
'Thank you for being here for me, Nicky.'
Just returning the favour, love.' Macy had been Nicky's maid of honour. 'Oh Mace, I'm so, so happy for you,' Nicky held Macy's hands. 'You look stunning,' she complimented with moist eyes.
'You think Twain will like the dress?' Last minutes jitters made Macy look in the mirror critically.
'"Like it?" He is going to love it, Mace.'
'I hope so,' Macy smiled nervously at her friend, looking for affirmation. 'I want him to like it.'
Macy wanted to see the appreciation in Twain's eyes when he looked at her. She wanted Twain to never ever forget what his bride looked like.
'Darling, you look absolutely stunning,' Claudia came into Macy's bedroom and smiled delightedly at her daughter. It was time to leave for the church.
'Thank you mum,' Macy smiled, moisture filling her eyes.
'I agree,' Don smiled, 'and I am enthralled to give the bride away.'
'Thank you Don,' she hugged her big brother. 'Shall we leave before Twain starts getting anxious?'
Parker and Don held out her train as she slid into the limo.
'We're going on honeymoon to Zanzibar, Uncle Don.'
Everybody laughed, including the chauffeur. Don ruffled his nephew's hair. 'Why don't you spent the week with me?' Don suggested to Parker. 'I'll take you to Hartbeespoort Dam.'
'Umm ... a whole week?' Parker asked disappointedly. He loved his uncle, but he loved his new found dad more.
'It's okay, thank you Don,' Macy smiled. 'Twain wants Parker with us.'
'It's your honeymoon!' Don mouthed.
'I've never been to honeymoon at Zanzibar, Uncle Don.'
'I'm delighted, you've haven't started honeymooning yet,' Don uttered snidely.
'Don't crease you jacket dear,' Claudia neatened out Parker's jacket.'
'So what do people do on honeymoon grandma?'
'Err ... err,' Claudia looked helplessly from Nicky to Macy. Nicky laughed, shaking her head affectionately. Macy just grinned and bit on her bottom lip.
Don came to the rescue. 'They do sightseeing; swimming; eat lots and lots and they bring back souvenirs for their Uncle Don.'
Macy laughed.
'Oh, just like when we went to London and Venice,' Parker smiled.
'Yep,' Don nodded and winked at his sister.
Macy smiled and relaxed against the backrest of the seat. Today she was in seventh heaven. She was well rested and felt like a million bucks. This morning, she had got it all. Well ... not it all exactly, but close enough. Don had booked her into a spa. She was treated to orange juice and breakfast. It was normally champagne, but with her being pregnant, she'd opted for the orange juice. She'd then been treated to a manicure, pedicure, a soothing facial, and a relaxing full body massage. Thankfully her hair stylist had agreed to attend Macy at her home.
Now she looked perfect...in a perfect dress that was hugging her tiny waist and swirling around her ankles.
Macy smiled happily thinking of Twain. She had last seen him on Thursday night. He had taken Macy out for a romantic dinner for two and had very diplomatically informed her, she would only see him again at the altar. She'd taken the day off on Friday, but Twain had gone into the hospital for the morning. At twelve, on Friday, it had been Macy that had called Twain. She had pleaded with him to come and have lunch with her, but he had smilingly refused her invitation.
"We will only see each other again at the altar," he had informed her in an enduring tone.
Macy had been disappointed. After being so used to seeing him all the time at the hospital and most evenings, waiting until Saturday afternoon, seemed an eternity. She had tried to reason with him, urging that it was only bad luck to see the bride on the morning before the wedding, but Twain had again whispered seductively about building the anticipation.
They had not made love in almost a week. Even though he'd spent the first four nights of the week in Macy's bed, he stubbornly refused to consummate their love making. He would kiss her and caress her, but nothing more. His hands and lips never ventured below her breasts. How could he be so disciplined? Neither had Macy been allowed to touch him. She smiled ruefully. He knew if she touched him, he would give in.
The following morning, Macy had instructed Twain to sleep at his place. He was driving her crazy, lying naked next to her and denying her sex. Twain had laughed and had agreed wholeheartedly. Clearly he was feeling the pressure and found it as torturous as she did, but he was hell bent on keeping his word.
Not long now... I will be Twain's forever.
Macy offered the comforting words to herself. In a matter of hours she would be in Twain's arms and she would spend every night hereafter in his arms. She'd waited a long time to become Twain's life partner. There was a stage in her life after Parker's birth that she thought she'd go to her grave being single, how beautifully destiny had intervened to alter her life.
'The moment has arrived,' Nicky touched Macy's arm as the limo stopped at the entrance to the church.
Macy smiled, nodded. Don opened the door, stepped out and held out his hand to Macy. Parker and Claudia assisted with the train.
Her stunning figure framed the entrance. A breathlessness overwhelmed Twain. He could not take his eyes off his bride. She was strikingly beautiful and radiant in a laser cut gown of porcelain and pearl in soft silk tulle and metallic sequins. The silk tulle vest was in intricate beaded detail, the satin pearl skirt, tumbling over her ankles, in soft horsehair. Her delicate arms were adorned in soft satin fingerless gloves, giving Macy a look of classical elegance. She was a picture of dazzling sophistication and the combination of soft tulle silk and satin lent a look of virginal innocence. Twain thought about how he would remove her gown later, but it all looked so delicate and fragile.
He wondered if he would have the patience, considering he had deprived his body of her love this last week. He had wanted them to abstain, to whet their appetite for their wedding night. From the throbbing pain in his pants, he did not know if he could last another hour.
Macy halted at the entrance, her eyes easily finding her groom. She knew Talbot and Ethan the best man stood next to her groom, but she had eyes only for the man she loved with all of her heart and soul. He was the tallest, most handsome man, with the broadest shoulders in the church packed to capacity. Not a single empty seat in the pews.
Were all these non-family guests, their colleagues from the medical fraternity?
They say all brides look beautiful on their wedding day, but words could not describe how picture perfect Macy looked. No one would deny she looked spectacular. The radiant look about her enhanced by the baby she was carrying...Twain's second baby. Spontaneously, her palm touched her abdomen. She saw Twain hold his breath, pride in his eyes, for the woman he loved, the woman who would share eternity with him. An inner door opened inside her and set her heart free.
With the sun low behind Macy, her silhouette was softened by the radiance in her grey eyes. She kept her eyes trained on Twain. Eyes filled with love ... love for him. Macy's joy was indescribable. Her pulse beat so fast she could hardly breathe. It had not been hard to find the tallest head, broadest shoulders, most handsome face... and he was hers. She loved him as he loved her unconditionally.
Twain's adoring tender eyes did not break contact with her as she made her way to him. Macy could have sworn there was moisture in her groom's eyes. His eyes worshipped her, conveying how much he loved her. She was everything he wanted in a soul mate, caring, gentle, giving, intelligent, beautiful, sexy and wanton in bed. He was aroused just thinking about how responsive her body was to his mere touch. She was a lady. Dignified. Not one to raise her voice to attract attention. He never heard her raise her voice to their son either. Macy was more, than everything he'd ever dreamed of, that a wife should epitomize.
She was the blushing bride all right as Macy smiled shyly up into Twain's face when Don handed the bride to the groom. She saw Twain hold his breath as he clasped her hand, before gently placing it on his arm.
'You look beautiful, my bride,' he whispered. Macy smiled, not trusting her voice to speak any coherent words.
Twain looked over his shoulder, and greeted his son. Parker tapped his chest pocket meaningfully. Twain smiled and nodded.
The exchanging of the vows happened so quickly, Macy was relieved to have Twain's presence and his strong hand holding hers tightly. Of course she remembered every single word of their exchanged vows, but the handsome man standing next to her, blew her breadth away. Twain's lips pressed to hers, to seal their vows. She was now before God, Mrs Twain Crawford.
The music started, Twain led his bride to the dance floor. As they touched she felt the static energy emanating from his body... leaping between them. Macy closed her eyes. She melted dreamily into his arms, her one arm lightly on his shoulder, the other on his waist. Her dress floated around her ankles, her feet moving in step to Twain's expert leading. She was lost in his arms, but secure in the reassurance of the strength of his arms around her. Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched in awe as the charming couple graced the dance floor in synchronised movements.
The lights dimmed. More couples took to the dance floor. Twain held Macy closer, his arms tightening around her. She looked ravishing. She smelt divine. Her hair glossy with the soft hint of vanilla.
'You take my breath away darling,' Twain's eyes raked over her hungrily, the cool satin of her garment caressed his heated body. He was on fire for her.
'So do you,' she whispered.
'I love your fabulous gown. It is perfect,' he complimented.
'I wanted you to remember this day... me.'
'I will never forget this day darling, or how stunning my bride looked as long as I breathe.'
Twain made a guttural sound, pulling her flush against his arousal. His lips sensually pressed against her throat, hinting at the promise of what the night would deliver. Her skin soft like sun kissed tulip blossoms, tingled at his caress. Twain drew her closer still whispering his love in her ear.
Macy snapped. She could resist no longer. She cupped his jaw... dragged his mouth to hers. Her tongue infiltrated his mouth inflaming his soul. Her arms wound around his neck hungrily, she sought closer proximity to his body. She inhaled the scent of his skin now so familiar, like an aphrodisiac. Her fingers delved into his thick hair. Fiery urgency pulsated through her quivering body. Macy pulled away, supressing a groan, burying her face under his chin. His arousal hard as a rock pierced against the silk of her garment. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
'I don't know if I will last till tonight,' Twain whispered.
Macy smiled. 'You've waited a week, what's a few hours?' she taunted, throwing his words back at him, when he'd insisted on them abstaining until their wedding night.
Twain was not impressed. 'Don't you need to get out of this gown and slip into something more comfortable?' He prompted, knowing, she did have an evening dress to change into.
'I do,' she smiled, allowing her fingers to caress the nape of his neck.
'I will help you undress,' he smiled triumphantly, 'but I will have you before you slip into your evening dress,' he whispered in her ear.
'We're probably only going to have ten minutes,' she pointed out.
'You will forgive me this time,' his eyes held hers. 'I won't need more than ten minutes.'
Neither would she. Her body was humming, the ache in the core of her womanhood felt excruciating. She wanted that too. Quick fast sex, just to relieve the ache, like a drug addict needing a quick fix.
'Let's go now,' she whispered.
Twain took her hand, clasping her fingers through his. He led her to the tiny room made available for the bride's disposal.
'I'm barely hanging by a thread darling,' Twain cupped her face his mouth ravishing hers.
'Twain ... I've missed you so much,' she whispered, kissing him back with heightened fervour.
'Darling, let me remove this veil, before I unzip your dress,' Twain urged throatily.
'Be gentle. Don't damage my dress,' she warned.
'I won't,' Twain laughed softly, he kissed her one last time, before, focusing his attention on removing the clips holding up the veil.
'Hi dear. I thought you might need help getting out of your wedding gown,' Claudia announced.
A look of dread filled both their eyes. Macy was silently screaming, she could see Twain's body violently protesting.
-end chapter twenty seven-