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“I do as well,” Drake said and kissed me. “We’ll have a nice time no matter how long we stay.”

We cooked a meal and sat down to eat it, two candles burning between us offering some warm candlelight.

Later, after we cleared up from dinner, we sat in the living room together.

“How are you progressing on your to-do list?” Drake asked.

“I’m almost done. All that’s left is to pack my overnight bag,” I said and snuggled closer to him. “For the night before the wedding.”

“Why do you need that packed?” Drake said, frowning.

I glanced at him, surprised that he didn’t know about it. “It’s tradition to not stay with the groom for the entire day before the wedding so I’ll stay at my dad’s place.”

“What?” Drake said and shook his head. “ Nonsense. You live with me. I said I didn’t want to be parted from you again, and I meant it. No,” he said and sliced his hand down against the other in a chopping motion. “You’re staying with me. End of story.”

“Drake,” I said, amused at his insistence, but determined to follow proper protocol. “I can’t see you from the night before the wedding until I walk down the aisle. It’s bad luck.”

“Luck, schmuck,” he said. “I’m a scientist, not a superstitious caveman. We’re not going to be parted ever again, do you hear that?” He took hold of my chin and stared down into my eyes. "I said I didn't want us to be separated again, and I want it to stay that way. To hell with your silly superstition. I'm a scientist, and there's simply no convincing evidence that allowing the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony leads to a failed marriage."

"But it’s a tradition!” I protested.

"It's a tradition based on a time when the bride and groom had never even seen each other and was intended to prevent one or the other from running off in horror when they did. We've both already seen every single naked inch of each other so there's no fear of that. Besides, look what happened to my first marriage. We followed all the rules."

I heard the insistence in his voice. It wasn’t a playful tone at all, but was instead serious. I had thought nothing of us being parted the night before the wedding since it was tradition, even for couples who lived together – if they could arrange it. Although this wasn’t going to be a huge wedding or society affair, given my father’s illness and my desire to be private, I wanted to follow the rules.

“It will be for less than twenty-four hours…”

He shook his head. “That’s still too long.”

“Think of it as you having to stay all night at the hospital because of a patient. We’ve been separated several times because of that.” I stood up to go to the bathroom and he stood up beside me.

“That’s entirely different,” he said with a frown. “I came home as soon as I could and got into bed with you. This way, I’ll spend the entire night alone. I don’t like it,” he said and was really serious about it.

I ran my hands over his shoulders and decided not to fight with him over this right then. “We’ll discuss this later,” I said.

“Now, please,” he said. “Tell me you’ll spend the night here. I can blindfold you if you really don’t want to see me the night before or the day of. I’m pretty handy with a blindfold,” he said with a wicked grin.

I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed him softly. “You are an expert with

a blindfold.”

“I am,” he said and grinned back finally. “So it’s settled?”

“We’ll talk…” I said, unwilling to give in so quickly. Then I slipped past his arms, which were reaching out to stop me. Luckily, I was fast and sidled by him, rushing to the bathroom, giggling as he tried to catch me.

He did, finally, and held me firmly from behind, his mouth at my ear. “Ms. Bennet, you’re a very bad girl. Do I have to spank you?”

“For punishment or pleasure?”

“Do you deserve to be punished?” he said, his voice playful.

“No,” I said quickly, slipping out of his arms. “I don’t. I’ve been a very very good girl.”

“Oh, yes? How have you been very very good?” He had a very suggestive expression in his eyes.

“I’ve caught up all my work at Columbia, I have everything ready for my wedding, and I’ve arranged for our honeymoon,” I said, my hands on my hips, trying to look as authoritative as possible. “I think I deserve to be rewarded.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” he replied, smirking. “Who am I to refuse you your just reward?”

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