Close Harmony (Food Of Love 3)

But they made it without accident and were soon in their honeymoon suite, the bed covered in dried rose petals, a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the dresser.

“Hooray for speedy internet divorce services,” said Vanessa, uncorking the champagne and pouring them each a glass.

“I thought we’d have to postpone for a moment there,” admitted Ben. “Or have a little bigamous overlap.”

Vanessa laughed, putting her glass on the nightstand and falling backwards on to the petal-strewn bed.

“A bigamous overlap sounds very pervy,” she said. “I could have kissed the postman when he brought the decree absolute.”

“Yesterday,” added Ben pointedly. “Yeah, I could have kissed him too. I was pretty close to forgetting how to breathe for a while back there.”

She sat up and reached out for Ben’s hands, pulling him down to sit beside her on the bed.

“Thank you,” she said seriously.

“What for?” he asked with a puppy-eyed little smile.

“For sticking with me. Despite me being an old bat.”

“I won’t hear that.”

“And despite all that horrible stuff with Dafydd,” she persisted. “Lots of men would have backed off. You’re very special.”

“I know.”

He put his hand to the side of her face, his long fingers pushing against the glittering leaves of her tiara.

“You really are.”

“You’re the most special woman in the world,” he said softly. “You’re my wife. Kiss me.”

She couldn’t think of a single thing she’d rather do.

His beloved face, sometimes so boyish, sometimes so serious, was bent towards her, blue eyes intent, lips slightly pouting, ready for her.

She pressed her lips to his, for once not caring about lipstick or mascara or her hair or any of the things that usually held her back. Here was the man who had saved her from the long shadow of Dafydd ap Hughes and showed her how to live again. She would throw every particle of herself into making him feel as happy and loved as he made her.

His lips, like hers, were a little cold from the snow and the champagne, but they soon heated up, their skin vibrating with the beat of two liberated hearts.

Before long, teeth and noses clashed, then tongues. Arms wrapped around bodies, legs around each other. Bodies fell sideways with a thud onto the duvet.

“Ouch, this tiara!” Vanessa sat back up again, hand on head. “I’m going to have to take it off, sorry. Or I’ll stab myself in the skull.”

Ben helped her remove the hundreds of pins until the twisted glistering wire was off and Vanessa’s hair fell loose.

“God, I must look a state,” she fretted.

“I command you to repeat after me—I am beautiful,” said Ben, wagging a finger at her.

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, I command it. Whether your hair is up or down or halfway off your head, you are beautiful. Say it.”

“No!”

He lunged for her wrists and held them tight above her head in one hand, using the other to tickle her armpits.

She screamed and twisted but couldn’t get free.