Page 5 of Her Kensington
Heat pools in my core at the dominance in his tone. My sudden onslaught of lust is almost enough to stop me feeling guilty about ruining our wedding night—almost.
“You deserve better than a Vegas wedding anyway. Once we’re settled in London you can plan a proper one. That might also go some way to getting my mum and sister to like me again.”
Thoughts of family make my breathing falter. How the hell am I going to tell my parents that not only am I moving to London with a man I’ve basically just met, but that I’ve also married him? Without them? Averting my gaze from Harrison, I turn back sadly towards my dress. Everything that’s already happened, as well as what my life is about to become, suddenly seems like a giant weight on my shoulders.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” The heat of his body is instantly at my back.
Squaring my shoulders and telling myself not to allow them to ruin this for me, I push the thought aside and focus on the man in front of me. “Nothing.” He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, well…nothing that can’t be worried about later.” My words seem to pacify him and after pulling me in for a hug, he tells me to get dressed so we can revisit last night.
I stand and look between my gorgeous wedding gown and my ratty second hand little black dress and let out a sigh. “Can we go to my place so I can get some fresh clothes first?”
“We can go shopping if you want. Get you some new ones.”
“No, that’s not necessary. Home is fine.”
“You’re going to have to let me buy you stuff eventually, you know?”
I mumble my agreement but the second his hands land on my shoulders and he looks down into my eyes, I know I’ve made a mistake. “I married you last night because I want you by my side. I want to live a life with you, Summer, and that means you’re going to have to accept that my money comes with me. I’ve got more than enough to buy you a new wardrobe.”
“I don’t want your money,” I whisper, feeling ridiculous that I’m making such a big deal out of this. I was brought up in a pretty poor family and taught that you work for every penny you have. Accepting anything from him, whether he’s worked for it or not, just doesn’t sit right with me. Wife or not.
“Well, that’s just tough, because half of everything I have is now yours,” he says. “Now put that on and we’ll go and get you some clothes. You might as well pack a case while you’re there.”
“A case? Why?”
“We’re going on honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?”
“Isn’t that what most people do after getting married?”
“I guess, but most people don’t do it quite like this.”
He shrugs. “Potato, potahto. It doesn’t matter how we did it, the fact is, we did, and we’re going to celebrate. I’m not ready to share you with anyone else yet.”
I was kind of expecting to get on a plane back to London and be thrust into whatever kind of life he lives there, so the thought of spending a little alone time with him has excitement licking at my insides. I’ve already got enough to think about without worrying about imminently meeting my in-laws.
After dragging my black dress over my head, I remember why I can’t find any underwear. The image of him ripping them off me in the entryway to this suite last night slams into me.
“I love it when you blush.” I didn’t realize he was watching me from the doorway but his words only make my cheeks blaze more. “What are you thinking about?”
“Did I marry you commando?”
Harrison’s response is to burst out laughing. “No, beautiful. It might have been a shotgun Vegas wedding but we did have some class. Check the drawer behind you.”
Turning away from him and pulling at the chrome handle, I suck in a breath when I stare down at the stunning ivory lace basque and thong set neatly folded in the drawer. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. I’ve never worn anything like that before.
“Only when it was on you.” His heat warms my back as his arms wrap around my waist. “You can fight with me all you want about how I spend my money, but the one thing you definitely get no say in is your underwear.”
“Is that right?” I ask, spinning in his arms until I’m pressed up against his chest. “Got a thing for fancy lingerie have you, Mr. Abbot?”
“I have a thing for you in fancy lingerie, Mrs. Abbot.” Goosebumps prick my skin at the use of my married name. Summer Abbot does have quite a good ring to it. “Now, less talk of you in lingerie please, or we’ll never get out of this room.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask with a wink as I pull away from his arms.
“It’s funny…I’m sure the girl I married was shy.” The playful smile on his face only lightens my mood.
“That reminds me,” I say as I slip my feet into my shoes. “How old are you?”
