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“Well, here’s to enjoying our work,” Bre said, raising her wine glass. Henry felt deja vu set in as her actions brought to mind their first date.
“Here’s to us,” he told her.
Bre smiled, “Here’s to a new beginning,” she said.
Henry drank to that.
* * *
“How did I let you talk me into this?” Bre questioned as she entered the grand ballroom of on Henry’s arm. Her pale gold dress glittering under the chandelier lights. Henry picked out her gown himself. He loved the way the fabric glittered against her skin, highlighting her natural beauty.
“I believe I was in between your thighs when you agreed,” he whispered naughtily in her ear. It had taken him nearly three months to gain her trust back enough for her to allow him into her bed, and six before she agreed to attend a social function with him. When she did finally allow him back in her bed, Henry wasted no time convincing her how much her body needed him. He woke her up nearly every morning with a screaming orgasm.
“This is going to be a disaster,” she said, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter. “So I might as well get drunk,” she said before downing her champagne.
Henry shouldn’t laugh, but her antics kept him on his toes. “Nothing bad will happen. I’m right here,” he told her, his hand on her back anchoring her.
“Who’d have thought Nathaniel would be the one with the shotgun wedding?”
“I’d hardly call this shotgun,” he told her gesturing to the extravagant surroundings. Bre had to admit the grande ballroom looked terrific covered in crystal and white roses “And, mind you, Victoria is not expecting.”
“Semantics,” Bre said as they made their way towards their table.
Even though he’d stood at the altar with Nathaniel himself, Henry still felt surprised that his best friend was married. “I suppose love makes one do crazy things,” he said, kissing Bre’s ear.
“Explains why I’m here,” she fired back giggling. Henry’s heart elated at her words. Despite months of wooing, she still hesitated to say those three letters he longed to hear. Made him feel like a right pussy whenever his feelings were hurt. Getting Bre to open up proved difficult, even after all these months, she guarded a little piece of her heart from him.
“Is your mother here?” she asked, breaking the light-hearted mood by bringing up his mother. Ever since Ascot, Henry made it clear his mother had little place in his life.
“Thank God, no,” Astrid, his sister, said as she slid behind them drink in hand. “She begged forgiveness for missing it and is claiming illness. Mostly, she doesn’t want to be seen since everyone knows Henry put her in her place.”
“Always a pleasure sister,” Henry said, acknowledging his sister’s presence. Astrid had been back in the U.K. for a month, and in that time, she’d attached herself to Bre under the guise of helping Henry. The two got along smashingly well, but Astrid monopolized Bre’s time in a way that annoyed Henry.
“She can’t stand that Bre’s in charge of Rochester charities now that she’s been stripped of that duty. Says such a duty is for a Rochester not some upstart American,” Astrid continued onward her words making Henry cringe. Bre and Henry worked through a majority of their problems, in fact, she’d recently decided to help run his family charities, since Henry’s Parliament schedule had picked up considerably. His mother, however, still appeared a sore spot. Bre was especially concerned that Astrid might feel as though she were overstepping.
“Astrid,” Henry warned squeezing Bre’s hand in reassurance.
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel that way!” she stated vehemently downing her drink. “Mother is off her rocker.”
Henry conceded to that, but Bre still felt stiff by his side. “Are you certain you don’t want to run the family charities?” Bre asked Astrid for the umpteenth time since she’d been home. No matter how many times Astrid told Bre she had no interested in being part of the Rochester legacy, Bre still worried that she was taking something from his sister.
“Bre, stop being so American,” Astrid said, downing her drink. “I’m off to raid the cheese bar. Get me one of those scallop buggers, when the waiter returns,” she said before scurrying off.
Henry shook his head. Despite being away for several years, his sister’s personality remained the same.
“She’s a force,” Bre said from his side.
“She’s a pain,” he countered. “But she’s right. Stop doubting yourself my love,” he whispered his lips brushing themselves against her neck. He smiled as he felt her shiver against him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. He’d had enough of watching her in that dress. He wanted to strip her of it and feel her naked skin against his own. Henry marveled at the fact that no matter how many times he had Bre, he never got enough.
“You promised me a dance,” Bre groaned out, untangling herself from Henry’s hot embrace.
“I’ll dance with you in bed,” he told her.
“Nah-uh, My lord,” she said, grabbing his reluctant hand. “A dance was promised, and I plan to collect. Now come on, put all those fancy skills to the test,” she told him, dragging him towards the dance floor.
This time Henry groaned. He despised dancing. “One,” he commanded.
“Sure, sure,” Bre said, laughing.
