As if he could wait that long. Clearly, she had either underestimated his desire or overestimated his self-control. “You won’t have to.”
Jack pulled into the dark lot of Finnegan’s Pub and cut the engine before pulling Kathleen in for a soul-searing kiss. He crushed his mouth to hers. She opened for him immediately and without question, meeting his tongue with her own as he reveled in the taste of champagne and wedding cake.
A few minutes were all he could bear; any longer and he’d take her right there in the deserted back parking lot.
“Come,” he commanded, opening the door and holding out his hand.
Kathleen stepped out of the car and looked doubtfully at the old building. A big “closed for renovation” sign hung haphazardly upon the back door. “Finnegan’s Pub?” she asked, confused.
“Aye,” Jack said, fishing out his keys. His shaking fingers fumbled the key several times before he coaxed the ancient lock open and tugged her inside. “Privacy. No one will bother us here.”
“But -—”
“No buts,” he said, leaning down for another kiss. “Now stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“Just trust me, Kathleen. Please.”
Her features softened. “Always.”
The look she gave him seared into his soul, filled with so much trust, so much love. His heart felt like it just might explode.
Jack left her in the kitchen, disappearing behind the door that led to the private living quarters upstairs. He took the steps two at a time, hurrying to complete the final preparations as quickly as possible. He’d set up as much as he could earlier, so it was only a matter of minutes before he re-emerged.
Kathleen was looking around the kitchen with interest, curiosity in her bright green eyes. He hoped that was a good sign. But for now, they had more important things to do.
In one swift move, one arm hooked beneath her knees, the other supported her back. Jack swept her up against his chest.
“Now close your eyes.”
“Jack,” she began to protest.
“Hush, Kathleen. It’s a surprise.”
The corners of her mouth curled at the ends and her lashes dutifully shuttered. Jack practically ran across the kitchen and up the narrow staircase, emerging on the second floor. The place wouldn’t win any interior decorating contests, but he’d done the best he could. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
The room had a fresh coat of paint, and the floor had been swept and buffed. A brand new bed made up with silk sheets and the best pillows and comforter he could find commanded the eye. A fire blazed in the scrubbed stone hearth. Fragrant candles of various sizes and shapes sat on every available surface. Fresh flower petals had been dropped around the bed, their fragrance filling the room.
“Oh, Jack,” she breathed. “You did all of this?”
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
“It’s perfect.”
Jack carried his new bride to the bed and set her down gently. He pulled the bottle of chilled champagne from the bucket on the bedside table and poured them each a glass. Slipping off his shoes, he joined her in bed and sat down beside her.
“To my beautiful wife,” he began, curling his arm with hers so they drank from each other’s glasses. “Mo croie beloved. I will love you, always.”
“As I will love you, mo croie beloved,” she answered.
“Want more?” Jack asked, taking her empty glass.
“Yes,” she answered, “but not champagne.”
He grinned wolfishly, answering the desire in her eyes with his own. “Let me get right on that.”
“Yes, please do.”
He laughed, setting the glasses off to the side. “Are you warm enough?” he asked, kissing the bare skin of her shoulders as he removed the jacket he’d lent her. His hands were shaking; not with fear, but with anticipation. It was an effort to move slowly when all he wanted to do was rip that thin strip of silk from her body and claim it the way he’d dreamed.
“Aye,” she whispered.
The flickering candlelight danced over her skin, so smooth and fragrant, unmarred and perfect. Her unique scent was firmly ingrained in his olfactory memory, synonymous with everything good in his world. He didn’t know what kind of body lotion or perfume she wore, but whatever it was, he was going to buy her cases of it.
Jack tugged at the delicate straps of her slip, dragging it down to reveal full breasts encased in yet more white satin. “Are you nervous?”
“No. Just anxious.”
He pressed kisses to her skin, tracing the outline of lace. With each one, her breasts heaved a bit more. She arched toward him, her nipples now clearly visible. It was more temptation than a man could take. He tugged that down, too, the breath escaping his lungs in a whoosh when the tips pebbled beneath his gaze.
His mouth closed around one even as his hands began to blindly work at the clasp. She gasped and thrust her fingers into his hair.