Page 15 of This Woman Forever

“Fucking hell, Elizabeth.” I cover my ears as she yells some panicked words, then slams the door in my face.

My arms drop, and so does my jaw. “What the fuck?” I take the handle and push all my weight against it, knowing she’ll be shoved up against the other side to hinder my attempts to gain entry.

“Open the door, Elizabeth,” I call through the wood, giving her a fair warning, so that if I force entry, it’s entirely her fault if she lands on her arse.

“Jesse, you and I are going to fall out if you don’t do as you’re told.”

Oh please. “We won’t fall out, Mum,” I say, not helping my cause. But still. She’s impossible. “...if you let me in.” I smile, picturing her sour face. She’s really quite wonderful, but she’d be even more wonderful if she lost the incessant need to interfere and block me from her daughter.

“Jesse Ward, you do not get to call me mum when I’m only nine years older than you,” she huffs, telling me she clearly thinks my age is an issue. It makes me nudge against the door harder. “Now go. You’ll be seeing her in half an hour.”

“Ava,” I yell. If she hears I’m here, she won’t be able to resist seeing me. I just know it. Fuck tradition.

“Jesse, no!” Elizabeth yells, her strength quite surprising as she keeps me at bay. “Oh no, it’s bad luck. Have you no respect for tradition, you stubborn man?”

“Let me in, Elizabeth.”

“No,” she retorts, short and sharp. If there was any question as to where my beautiful girl’s stubbornness comes from, then I’d wonder no more. “He is not... oh!... Jesse Ward!”

I’m firm but careful as I overcome her hold of the door and push into the suite, immediately scanning the space and finding Ava. The world stops turning for a moment as I drink her in, like I’m looking at her for the first time all over again.

“Well,” Elizabeth huffs. “Ava, tell him to leave.”

Ava’s eyes meet mine, and a silent understanding passes between us. She knows what I need. “It’s fine, Mum. Just give us five minutes.”

I smile on the inside, trying to keep hold of the last piece of respect I have for Elizabeth, which is currently stopping me from ravaging Ava.

Kate moves in. “Come on, Elizabeth. Just a few minutes won’t hurt.”

“It’s tradition.” She’s squawking again as she’s guided past me, her eyes catching sight of the mark on my pec. “What’s that bruise on his chest?”

My shoulders relax as I hear the door close, but I’m too busy losing myself in Ava’s dark eyes to check if we’re really alone. Her gaze drifts all over my sweaty body, almost as if she’s reminding herself of every plane, muscle, and ripple, before her stare meets mine again. I have a far better reminder in mind.

“I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face,” I whisper, my cock starting to pulse relentlessly, imagining the lace I know I’ll see if I cast my gaze downward. Fuck me, confirmation is likely to make my shorts blow off.

“No?”

“There’ll be lace if I do, won’t there?”

She nods.

“White lace?”

“Ivory.”

Oh Jesus, fucking Christ. “And you’re taller, so you’ve got heels on.”

She still says nothing, just confirming with subtle nods.

I try my damn hardest, reminding myself that we’re getting married in a matter of minutes, and she’s all beautified and stunning. But I can’t hold back anymore and...

Fuck... ing... hell.

I take a deep breath, allowing my eyes to fall down her body. Lace. Lots and lots of lace.

“You just trampled my mother.” I can hear pure, raw lust in her voice, and she surprises me when she starts toward me, getting right up close, despite my sweaty chest in close proximity of her flawless lace.

“She was in my way.” I speak down to her, watching as her brown eyes home in on my lips.

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