“If I had a decent change of clothes, I’d let you do it right now.”
He shook his head. “If I did it right now, there’s no way we’d m
ake it to the reception.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Come on.” He slipped a wrap around my shoulders, then took my hand and led me outside. “If we miss the reception, we’ll regret it when we’re old and gray.”
One of Nathaniel’s business associates owned a large penthouse he rarely used that included what could only be described as a ballroom. It was the perfect place for the reception: private, with a stunning view of the city. When he heard we weren’t getting married at our country estate, he’d offered to let us use it.
I’d given Felicia free rein over the decorations, telling her I only needed to know the barest minimum. She had flawless taste, so I wasn’t worried at all.
Nathaniel and I rode in the back of the limousine to the penthouse, sipping on the ice cold champagne that had been waiting for us. The driver was separated from the passenger section by a glass partition, so we had our privacy. We sat side by side and I laid my head on his shoulder while I twisted his wedding band around his finger.
“What time do we need to leave?” I asked. I still didn’t know where we were spending the night. I’d given him my overnight bag earlier.
“No specific time.” He grinned. “I know exactly what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”
“I wasn’t trying to get information out of you, I was just wondering.”
He gave me his I don’t believe you one bit look.
“Okay,” I admitted with a smile. “Maybe I was trying to find out just a little.”
He kissed my forehead. “You’ll have to wait and be patient.”
“I used up all my patience during the last month.”
“Mr. West,” the driver’s voice buzzed in on the intercom. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a call for you.”
“It’s my wedding day, I’m not taking calls.” He had told me earlier he’d left his phone in his carry-on luggage. Unless it was an absolute emergency, he wanted to be unreachable.
“It’s your pilot, sir.”
We looked at each other. His pilot? The one taking us to Switzerland tomorrow? This didn’t sound good.
Nathaniel picked up the handset in the back of the car. “Yes.”
His expression didn’t change the entire time he listened. That in and of itself told me something was wrong. Nathaniel asked a few questions, which confirmed my fears, especially when he said, “What are our other options?” Then he told his pilot he’d call him right back, and hung up.
He turned to me with a sigh. “There’s a major winter storm coming. We either need to leave tonight and beat it or wait until it passes.” He frowned. “I’m sorry. I checked the weather last night. Everything was supposed to go north of us.”
I placed my hand over his fist. “How long would that be?”
“The storm will be over in a day or two. But it might take longer for the airports to be operational.”
“And if they’re not?”
He grimaced. “No honeymoon.”
While it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to not have a honeymoon, it was something I’d really been looking forward to. Two weeks alone with Nathaniel in a country where no one knew us, where we had no responsibilities but each other. That was too hard to give up. Would I risk that for spending more time at our reception?
I looked up, caught his eye, and lifted an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth uplifted in a half smile.
No, it wasn’t a risk either of us wanted to take.
“There’s no decision to make,” I said.
“That’s what I thought. We leave tonight.”
Nathaniel spent the rest of the car trip on the phone with his pilot making arrangements. From the way it sounded, we were going to have to cut down our time at the reception. I took hold of Nathaniel’s left hand and checked the time. Just past seven thirty.
He hung up with a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “We need to take off no later than ten. That gives us just an hour and a half at the reception,” he said just as we arrived at the penthouse.
“So we eat quickly, talk to a few people, and then leave.”
“I hate that we’ll have to spend our evening watching the clock.”
“It’s okay with me,” I said. “If that’s what it takes to ensure we have a honeymoon, I don’t mind keeping the chitchat to a minimum tonight.” I slid closer to him. “I have plans for the next two weeks and nothing about them involves New York.”
He cupped my face. “You always know just how to look at something to make it seem completely all right.”
“Honestly, choosing between honeymoon with you for two weeks and an evening with a group of people I see all the time?” I kissed him softly. “Not much thought had to go into that one.”
He smiled and took my hand. “I just wanted today to be perfect.”
Stepping out of the car, I took his arm as we made our way inside the building. “We’re married. Nothing could make this day less perfect.”
Chapter Five
Nathaniel
Abby, of course, had been correct. The reception was simple, but perfect, and if anyone thought it a bit rushed, they kept it to themselves. The small crowd pulled us apart shortly after we arrived and we spent some time chatting with our guests. As I accepted congratulations from a colleague¸ I scanned the crowd looking for Abby. She stood in the center of a group of women I recognized from the library. Everyone was ohhing and awwing over her ring.
I doubted she’d had much, if anything, for lunch, so I excused myself to get us a plate. I chuckled at the first food station I came to and filled our plate with tapas. I was sure there was still a smile on my face when I approached the group Abby was speaking with.
“Ladies,” I said with a nod to them all. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m going to steal my bride away for a quick bite and hopefully talk her into a dance.”
Everyone was all polite with smiles and “yes, of courses” and “don’t mind us.” I led her to the head table, pulled her chair out, and pushed mine close enough for our knees to touch. I figured we probably had between five and ten minutes before well-wishers approached us again.
I held up a banderilla. “You didn’t tell me we were having tapas.”
“You didn’t ask,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Tapas was our favorite playroom snack. Usually, I’d have her feed me first and then I’d serve her. She might have caught me off guard slightly by having it at our reception, but I planned to turn tables on her.
She reached for a skewer of vegetables.
“Put it down,” I said in a low voice and her hand stilled. I picked up a skewer, slid a cucumber off, and held it to her mouth. “Open.”
Her lips parted and I slipped the vegetable inside. She placed a kiss on my fingers. Next I offered her a meatball and then nodded toward the plate. “We only have a few minutes.”
She took some bread and lifted it to my lips. “When I planned the menu, we had more time to do this. I just wanted a discreet way to honor our weekend time.”
I wrapped my hand around her wrist, my chest full of awe at how she’d planned our reception. Once more, the need to have her in my collar pulled at me. “I wish we had more time so we could serve each other adequately. Why don’t I get someone to wrap this up for us so we take some of it with us? That way we can properly enjoy it on the jet.”
Joy filled her eyes. “Thank you.”
I leaned forward, meaning to kiss her, but before I could, someone slapped my back.
“First dance, man,” Jackson said. “Felicia said for me to get