MARRYING MR. RIGHT (The Brides of Hilton Head Island Book 3) (13 page)

              Taylor slid her fingers into the dip at the front of her dress, grasped the diamond ring circled at the end of her necklace, and pulled it out. She held the silver promise ring Zeke had given her on the day she’d been kidnapped up to his eyes.   

              Zeke’s body went rigid. “You still have the promise ring I gave you?”

              “Yes. Ever since you gave it to me, I’ve kept it with me everywhere I go. It’s what kept me alive. Every time I looked at the ring, it gave me hope. Hope that someday you’d come back to me. So you see, Zeke, having a big, expensive ring doesn’t matter to me. I’m fine with this.”

              Zeke wrapped his hand around hers and kissed the promise ring. “Taylor,” he said in a shaky voice. “As long as you marry me, I don’t care what you wear on your finger.”

              “Maybe I’ll wear both.” She tucked the ring necklace back inside the top of her dress.

              “I’d like that. I just feel in my heart you’re supposed to have the ring I gave you this evening. It’s the ring you were looking at when we reconnected. It’s a symbol of our reunion.”

              Well, when he put it that way, she knew he was right; therefore, she’d keep the beautiful emerald cut diamond. “You’re right. It does symbolize our reunion.” She smiled. “I’ll keep the ring, Zeke.” She glanced down at the emerald cut stone on her finger again. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, peering back up at him.

              The slow song faded, and an upbeat tempo began playing. “It’s beautiful, just like your red hair.”

             
Holy smoke!
Taylor’s mouth parted. She’d been so caught up in the moment, she’d forgotten all about her ugly red hair!

Chapter Fourteen

             
K
nuckles rasped on the door of the LeMeurice Hotel penthouse suite where Zeke had proposed to Taylor last night. Apparently hearing the knocking, Taylor emerged from the bathroom door with a white, fluffy towel clenched around her torso, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail. “Did I hear someone knocking on the door?”

              Sitting in bed, clenching the newspaper in his hands, Zeke glanced at her over the edge of the paper. Looking like an exotic model with her new red hair, Taylor had told Zeke she didn’t like her new hair color, but he did. He didn’t care if she colored her hair green, he’d love it. Hell, she could color her hair purple, and he wouldn’t give a damn.

              “Yes. I’ll get it.” Zeke laid the paper on the bed and footed toward the front door. Considering Taylor and him had made love seven times last night, he shouldn’t have a hard cock right now, he thought, mentally willing his shaft to soften.
Guess we’re making up for lost time. I can never get enough of her. She’s going to be my wife. Wait ‘til I tell Richmond and Braylon about this. My father is going to be shocked like hell. And Katherine—she’s going to have to answer to me for failing to tell me that Taylor paid me a visit after she was rescued. Damn you, Katherine. Why would you keep such important information from me?

             
Feeling sour about Katherine’s inexcusable, reckless behavior
,
Zeke opened the door of the immaculate penthouse suite Taylor had fallen in love with to find the bellman standing there.
Wait until Taylor found out he was designing a penthouse suite with her in mind at the new Balfour Renaissance Hotel in Paris.

              “Good morning,”
Zeke said, stepping to the side.

              “Good morning.” The bellman walked past Zeke, pushing a cart containing their breakfast.

              “You can put it by the window.” Zeke tipped the bellman, closed the door, then headed back into the bedroom to join Taylor.

              “Who was at the door?” she asked, wearing a pair of white satin panties and snapping her bra in the front. Her pointed nipples pressed into the lace. He could see the big circles of her dark areolas beneath the thin lace material. Taylor looked sexy and elegant. Growing aroused, his shaft grew inside his drawers.  

              “The bellman. I ordered room service for us.”

              “Thanks. I’m so lucky to have you.”

              “And I’m lucky to have you, too.” Zeke stalked up to Taylor and kissed her brown, enticing lips. “Take the bra off.” Cupping her behind with one hand, he unhooked her bra with the other and tossed it to the floor. Dying to get inside her this morning, he pressed his hard erection into her stomach. “It wants you.”

              Taylor slid her hands inside Zeke’s underwear, wrapped her warm fingers around his shaft, and squeezed. Zeke groaned. “And I want it.” Taylor jerked him up and down.
Damn, that feels good
.

              Zeke’s heavy balls ached. As hungry as he was, he was hungrier for sex than food. “Let me hit it from the back real quick.”

              Without uttering a single word, and braless, Taylor walked to the foot of the bed and bent over.
Hell yeah.
White satin panties stretched over the sexy curves of her tooted rear
.
Curly long hair paraded down her bare back. Taut black nipples grazed the gold silk comforter of the mattress.

              Standing behind Taylor, Zeke pulled his sweatpants down, letting the cotton fabric puddle at his ankles. Forgoing removing his underwear, he pulled out his hard stem, spit in his hand, and smeared his saliva on his aching member.

              Zeke’s eyes caressed his soon-to-be-wife. Arched spine. Buttocks perched. Legs spread apart. Taylor’s sexy posture tantalized Zeke. He fisted his saliva-coated rod and motioned the skin up and down. He edged her panties to the side, inserted his finger in her heat, and twirled her essence. A long hum eased from her mouth.

              Taylor’s sex slid back and forth on his finger. Ah, her pussy was slick. And hot. “Give it to me, Zeke.”

              “You’re so wet, Taylor.” Keeping her panties pushed to the side, he put the head of his penis to the top line of her butt crack. Using the head of his shaft, he traced the line all the way to her center. “Let me get inside this good stuff,” he uttered, slipping inside her velvety channel.

              Thrusting in and out of Taylor, her hot moisture swam around his tool like a hot sauna. Pressing his fingers into her sexy, brown buttocks, he drove deeper into her slick womb. His testicles slapped her rear, intensifying the pleasure. “Lord, this is some good, good pussy.”

              “That feels so good, baby,” Taylor purred. Gyrating her hips, her sex clenched his tool and held it. Hips still, she squeezed him hard. Her wet inner muscles pulsated. Sucked him deep. 

              Hands to her delicate waist, Zeke lolled his head back. Frozen, he locked his gaze on the ceiling. Limbs locked, knees weakened, Taylor’s wet inner muscles heaved cum from his stem in loads. “Aarrggh.”

              Taylor hissed. “Oh, Zeke. I love when you cum inside me.”

              After Taylor and Zeke took quick showers, Zeke warmed their breakfast in the microwave, then joined Taylor for breakfast at the table by the window. Lowering the plates to the table, he took a seat across from her. Holding her hands, he blessed the food.

              “Amen,” they said in unison.

              Enjoying the seasoned hash browns, Zeke peered out the window next to him. Beyond the balcony, sailboats cruised the Seine. Tourists walked to and fro. Taxis and luxurious vehicles drove along the road.

              Although he loved Paris, he had no intentions to make the beautiful city his permanent home. Knowing this, he wondered how Taylor would feel about moving back to Hilton Head Island. Paris, France, and Hilton Head Island were like night and day. So different.

              What if Taylor didn’t want to move back to Hilton Head Island? Then what? After all his love had been through, he could definitely see why she’d be reluctant to return home. But considering her mother had moved back there and his family and friends lived there as well, he felt it’d be a perfect place for them to live and raise their children. Children needed to be around family and grandparents. And considering his father was ill with prostate cancer, Zeke wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. Maybe he should’ve talked to Taylor about permanently residing in Hilton Head Island before he asked her to marry him. He cursed inside his head. Well, regardless of her answer, he still planned to marry her. He loved her just that much.

              Zeke hefted his glass of orange juice to his lips, sipped, then lowered it back to the table. “Taylor, we need to talk.”

              “Uh oh. Why the serious look?”

              “Because what I want to ask you is serious, and it’s a lot to ask of you.” Looking elegant in the black silk robe he’d bought her yesterday, she lowered her fork to her napkin.

              “What do you want to ask me, Zeke?”

              Apprehensive, Zeke slid his hand across the table and cupped her hand. “We need to discuss when we’ll get married. Where we’ll get married. And where we’ll live after we get married. I’d like to marry you right away. I see no point in waiting.”

              He couldn’t help noticing the tingle of excitement in her irises as she spoke. “How do you feel about a small wedding? Here in Paris?”

              “I’m cool with getting married here in Paris.” Taylor’s brown lips pulled into a soft smile. “Let’s get married next week.”

              “Next week?!”

              “I know it’s fast, but I don’t want to shack up as girlfriend and boyfriend. You deserve better than that, Taylor. You deserve a husband who loves you. That’ll give his life for you. I can give you that. I want to give you all of me. And I want to do it right away.” Living without her had been pure hell over the last ten years, and Zeke saw no reason to delay their wedding union. God wanted them to be together, and so did he. Taylor was his life. Now it was time she became his wife. “Will you do me the pleasure of marrying me next Saturday?”

              Smiling her behind off, Taylor nodded. “Yes. Next Saturday will be great. I guess you’re moving in with me then, huh?”

             
Here goes.
“I really would like to make Hilton Head Island our permanent home. How do you feel about that?” Silence settled in the atmosphere. Dark disapproval resonated in Taylor’s caramel eyes. She diverted her gaze from Zeke and peered out the window. “Look at me, Taylor.”

              Taylor returned her disturbed gaze to Zeke. “How do you feel about a long distance marriage?” she asked, obviously not thrilled about possibly moving back to Hilton Head.

              “Taylor, the thought of not being with you every day bothers me. I want to spend my every waking moment with you. All my free time with you. We’ve already been separated for years, I
need
you by my side when I wake.
Need
you by my side before I go to bed.” He’d staked his claim on her and had branded her, and the thought of being without her for a long length of time made his gut coil. “I know Hilton Head has some ugly memories for you. It does for me, too. But I think if we’re together, in time we can get past it and live very fulfilling lives there. And since I’m building a new hotel here in Paris, you can come back to visit often.”

              “I don’t know, Zeke. I love Paris. And Hilton Head scares me.”

              “With me by your side, you won’t have anything to be scared of. I’ll protect you.”
I wish someone would try to hurt her; I’ll break his fucking neck. Kill him dead.
“I’ll put security cameras around our home. I’ll hire a security guard to watch you all day and night. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and happy.”

              Taylor’s lips turned under as she softly asked, “Why are you so adamant about moving back to Hilton Head Island?”

              Zeke’s chest caved. “Because my father may be dying.”

              Taylor’s eyes grew wide. “Oh God, Zeke. I had no idea. I’m so sorry to hear that. What’s wrong with your father?”

              Zeke sighed. “He has prostate cancer. He may not live long, Taylor. I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with my father while he’s alive. Say you’ll move with me. Please, baby. I need you by my side.”

              Taylor grabbed Zeke’s hand, placed it on her cheek, and nodded. “Okay. You win. When do we leave?”

              Zeke’s heart jostled. “After the wedding.”

              “I’ll be ready. I still can’t believe we’re getting married so quickly. To be truthful, it’s almost frightening, Zeke.”

              “Don’t be scared. Our marriage is quick, but it’s meant to be. You and I are made for each other, Taylor. With God in the mix of our marriage, we’ll be just fine.”  Zeke kissed the back of Taylor’s palm.

              Later on that day, Zeke stood at the registration desk of the hotel, checking out. Clad in a red wool coat and black Dutch hat with flowers, Taylor looked absolutely stunning and elegant. Like the model she was. Making their way towards the entrance of the hotel, the heels of Taylor’s long boots clinked against the marble floor.

              The bellman pushed open the door for Zeke and Taylor, and they stepped outside of the hotel into the cold afternoon air. Before they could descend the steps, the Paparazzi besieged them. Caught them off guard. Tourists stood at the foot of the steps looked up at them as if they were celebrities.

              Standing in front of the golden doors, Zeke clutched Taylor’s glove-covered hand and they began descending the steps. The Paparazzi snapped photos of them. Cameramen filmed footage. It looked like a damn circus outside of the LeMeurice Hotel.

              “How in the hell did our relationship get leaked?” Zeke muttered.

              Halfway down the stairs, a reporter ran up to them, got in Taylor’s face, and shouted, “Taylor Spelling, tell me, how does it feel to be engaged to the heir of a billionaire?” Smiling, the gentleman stuck the microphone to her lips.

              Putting her gloved hand to her chest, Taylor’s face flushed. “I couldn’t be happier.”

              The reporter put the microphone to his mouth and continued. “I hear your story is quite one of a fairy tale.” He stuck the microphone back in Taylor’s face.

              Taylor looked at the reporter enigmatically. “Yes, it is.”

              Keeping the microphone to her lips, he then asked, “To have had your baby stolen must’ve been a nightmare.”

              Zeke’s gut knotted at the mention of his son Zavier’s name. His lips pressed into a hard line. “That’s enough. Get out of our way. Move!” Tugging Taylor’s hand, he shoved the photographer out of the way and forced his way through the crowd.