Draw Me A Picture (59 page)

“Our plane leaves in two hours my love,” he whispered to his bride. “We will still have to clear security, though there will be little waiting in line.” Michelle smiled up at him.

“I want to go as well,” she said, quietly. Grinning, William let his eyes take in his bride’s form without trepidation.

“Is your gown comfortable?” he asked; he looked at Michelle with an expression she found difficult to fathom. She nodded.

“Very. Should I change into something else?” she inquired; Michelle was very curious what her man had on his mind. William slowly shook his head; his cobalt eyes appeared a little darker blue than usual.

“Please don’t,” he said, in a low voice. “You look exquisite; I want to look at you so as long as possible.” Michelle’s face took on a very pink hue.

“No problem,” she said, biting her lip. “It’s a soft dress, anyway”

“Is that so?” William murmured, smiling in a way that made Michelle involuntarily shiver. It was a good shiver, however; unduly good. “I’m allowed to think these things about him now,” she thought, smiling mysteriously. William lifted an eyebrow at her but said nothing.

Oscar came back through the doors, with Donnan; they looked very pleased with themselves.

“What a crazy chick,” Oscar said, to William. “Hey, did you know she’s the daughter of Judge Matheson?” William rubbed his forehead, making a face at the floor.

“I did,” he said. “Did she threaten you with being arrested?” Oscar snorted.

“A couple dozen times,” he said. “I called her daddy. Got right in when I said his daughter was drunk and disorderly at the Waldorf. I told him to come down here and get her before the media arrives.” William grinned.

“Good show there, Oscar,” he said, with admiration. “She must have been in the hotel bar or something.”

“What did she have in her purse?” Michelle asked, in a small voice. She hoped to God it wasn’t a gun. Oscar sobered a little.

“A big bottle of black ink,” he said, grimly. “You know… the kind you refill fountain pens with. I think she was going to fling it on you guys, or something.”

“Perhaps she were just goin’ to fill a pen and write you a nasty letter,” Donnan suggested, with a grin. The small party laughed at the suggestion.

Donnan seemed to remember something and pulled a small envelope out of his inner pocket. He held it up and placed it nearby on a small table, which had on it several other gifts.

“For the bride and groom,” he said, smiling. “And I’ll hope you’ll both be visitin’ us at the end of your stay in our bonny land. The address in there, too in the envelope. Be honored to have you.” William shook the man’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, earnestly. “I am very encouraged in having such pleasant new relatives, especially those whom are not afraid of having a good time.” Donnan laughed; he looked over at the English relatives; they were no longer grouped by themselves but mingling well with everyone.

“Aye. Scottish charisma is infectious,” he said. “Especially with aristocratic types.” William grinned. Michelle cleared her throat a little.

“Seems William’s cousin Roderick Jr. has taken a liking to, uh... Bridget, over there,” she said, momentarily forgetting the girl’s name. Donnan looked, and then turned back to take a drink of his wine.

“Well, if he’s half the man your groom is, I’m sure my brother won’t mind,” he said. The man’s common manner of speaking and inferior social position never dawned on William; he was genuinely moved by Donnan Gregory’s compliment. He raised his glass to the Scot and received a grin back.

A bright, green gift on the table caught William’s eye; stepping over to it, he picked it up. It was simply wrapped in light green, shiny paper with dark green limes printed all over it. William looked over at Oscar; the man appeared to be studying the ceiling intently, though he was grinning. Michelle saw the gift and giggled, walking over to her groom’s side.

“Now, who could that be from?” she asked, quietly. Her eyes sparkled with fun. William set it down, allowing himself a smile.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” he said, looking down at his bride.

“I guess we open those when we get back,” Michelle said, returning William’s gaze. He reached up and traced her ear with his finger.

“We have to go before we can return, my dear,” he said, quietly; his eyes held a familiar, intense look, one that made odd sensations go up Michelle’s spine. “Besides we have a three-hour line through airport security.”

“I’m ready,” she said, smiling with one corner of her lovely mouth. Her one little simple showed in her cheek. William touched it with his fingertip.

“So am I,” he said.

“Then go already!” Donnan said suddenly, making them both jump. “Anyone can see you’re dying to be off by yourselves. We’ll start some proper dances and have good music after you leave.” He grinned at them and stalked off, towards the hotel staffer working the sound system. William cleared his throat.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering Michelle his arm; she smiled.

“I love it when you say those two words,” Michelle said, sighing a little. “Yes.”

Michelle briefly hugged her Uncle and Margaret. Her and William both walked over to wish the other guests adieu. Laurel saw their actions and left the room to find a bellboy; she soon located one fairly quickly and instructed him transport the bridal couple’s luggage out to a taxi. For a minute, Michelle ducked back into the side room; she smiled a little and sighed, looking around. A couple hours ago she’d been standing in this room a single woman. Now, she was married; she felt a little silly thinking of the distinction so, but felt honored nonetheless.

“Mrs. Montgomery,” she said, to herself. Deciding to leave her gorgeous gown on as long as possible, Michelle grabbed her white pea coat and buttoned it up over the dress. Touching up her makeup a little, Michelle took her bags and silently said ‘goodbye’ to the little room.

Out in the reception hall a rousing Scottish reel played on the sound system. Donnan and one of his family members seemed engaged in some kind of dance competition, amid much clapping and smiles by the other relatives. Even William’s relations seemed to be enjoying the sight. It was a good time to go, Michelle decided, before she and William got roped into line dancing, or something. William found her, his overcoat already on and luggage in hand. His pleased smile flooded her with warmth and comfort.

“I’ll not get tired of your smile,” Michelle told her groom. “It has to be one of the never-ceasing charms of a man.”

“Never ceasing?” William asked, amused. “All smiles must end, love.” Michelle rose and eyebrow a little.

“True… but the smile and the eyes do not age,” she said, gently. “So, even when you’re sixty, I’ll be able to look at you and find the man that I see right now.” William gazed at her, more than a little touched by her words. Michelle knew she’d struck a chord in him by saying her thoughts aloud; her husband embraced her and kissed the top of her head.

“I meant what I said to you when I proposed, Michelle... you have a beautiful soul,” William told her. His bride smiled and let him lead her out the Starlight Roof Room door.

Oscar and Margaret, Alfred, Laurel, Sophie and Luca stood on the sidewalk; they threw rice at William and Michelle as they emerged from the hotel’s entrance door. Ducking, Michelle laughed. William grabbed his bride’s hand and raced for the taxi through the shower of little, white specks. Yanking open the door, he let Michelle in then ducked in himself. A hundred little grains of rice flew in with him. Shaking his head, he laughed.

“I completely forgot about that part of weddings,” he admitted, brushing rice out of his ears and hair. Some grains had found their way into his collar, he noticed. Michelle laughed softly at the sight; leaning forward, she picked up some rice from his neck, using it as an excuse to kiss her husband very sweetly and lovingly on his mouth. William did not seem to mind at all. The taxi sped away, with the bride and groom kissing in the back seat.

“Oh, that was the sweetest wedding I have ever seen,” Margaret said with a sigh. Sophie nodded at her, and then arched an eyebrow at Luca. The man ignored his mother and brushed rice from Laurel’s blond hair.

“I would like to cook you dinner at my café tonight,” he said, very quietly. “Please wear this lovely gown; you look so delicious.” The blond young woman felt a bit light-headed under the look Luca gave her; however, she managed to give a tolerable impression of coherence.

“I’d love to,” she squeaked. Sophie looked away from them and smiled at herself. She found her arm suddenly linked with Oscar’s.

“I have half a notion that you know how to dance, pretty lady,” the man said, winking at her. Sophie’s face momentarily turned mottled shade of pink. It had been awhile since someone had spoken to her like that.

“I can...” she answered, a little stunned. Then, she smiled. “I hope you can keep up, sir.” The entire party went back into the hotel, hoping to find the room still intact.

WILIAM HAD never known a taxi-ride to be over so quickly. It seemed he’d just started kissing his lovely bride when they suddenly arrived at the airport. The fact that they’d made out for the entire ride did not escape him; he grinned sheepishly as he paid the driver.

“Have fun there, pal,” the taxi-driver said, grinning at the couple. William snorted and led Michelle into Terminal Four. With a simple gesture he engaged the services of a luggage carrier for the bags. A uniformed young man swept up the luggage and followed them to a modern-looking airline counter.

“Welcome to EOS,” said a young woman with a very pronounced British accent. “May I see your boarding passes?” William handed the papers over. Michelle dug in her purse for her ID and passport. The girl looked up, smiling. “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery. Let me get a copy of your IDs and passports.” Michelle was impressed with the lack of paperwork but not really surprised. Of course William would have the details hashed out already. Her groom signed the forms and received the little folders holding their tickets and papers. The EOS receptionist directed them to the Emirates waiting lounge just on the other side of a security checkpoint.

William had not misjudge the length of the security line. By the time the bride, groom and their carry-on bags had been thoroughly checked they had a mere twenty minutes before the flight left. Michelle had a little metal in her gown somewhere and she was obliged to removed her coat and let the security personnel wand her. William stood nearby, noticing the male security guard took over and took a little extra time visually inspecting Michelle’s bodice for possible bomb-material. Apparently the bride wasn’t a major threat to the peace and well-being of the masses, so they let her through.

Michelle snorted--albeit quietly--and put on her coat again.

“Cheeky blighter,” William grumbled, narrowing his gaze back at the guard. “He should get a tawdry magazine and look at that instead of other men’s wives.” Michelle glanced up at William, feeling better once more by his side.

“I think one of the privileges of being a husband is you that you are allowed to be jealous of every glance of every other man,” she said, softly; her eyes held an endearing look, one that said she blamed him not. William grinned a little, looking down at his wife.

“Correct,” he agreed, amused at her little speech. “I take it you don’t mind.” Michelle gave him an upward look through her dark lashed that made his mouth go dry.

“Not at all,” she said, licking her bottom lip a little. “Like I said, you’re the only one who can get away with looks like that.” William gave her a full-on grin; Michelle felt a thrill well up in her chest at the sight of it. He was so handsome when he really smiled.

“I’ll be giving you more than looks soon, love,” William thought. He focused his attention on the airline staffer outside the lounge. Once they showed their boarding passes, the man let them through into the Emirates lounge.

“Wow,” Michelle said, softly. “This is a waiting room?” William chuckled.

“Yes it is,” he returned, smiling. “Not bad at all; it looks quite comfortable.”

Indeed it did. The room seemed almost cozy for an airline waiting room, and unusually pleasant with a lowered ceiling; it contained square looking, deeply cushioned chairs and love-seats, many potted palms and dim, warm lighting. There was even a small kitchen with a posh-looking buffet off to one side.

“I’ll bet even Alfred wouldn’t mind flying home on this airline,” Michelle said, glancing at William. Her man returned her gaze.

“You may have an idea there, minx,” he said, smiling. “I think I’ll arrange it as a parting gift to the old boy.”

Michelle and William were not hungry in the least; they did share a bottle of iced tea and relaxed in a more secluded section of seats amid some green palm fronds. Sitting on a comfy chair, Michelle smiled down at her gown’s skirt, touching it’s soft surface gently with her hand. She felt someone looking at her and raised her eyes to William’s. He sat on the couch opposite. His bright, blue eyes shone with an intense look, one that made Michelle both claimed and cherished. She smiled, liking the sensation acutely.

William patted the seat next to him, a roguish smile dressing his face.

“What are you doing way over there, my lady?” he asked. Michelle blushed and bit her lip, just a little.

“I did not know you wished me to hover about you in a clinging way,” she said softly. Michelle could not keep a teasing smile form her face.

“Get over here, minx,” William said, fondly. Michelle complied, though she was not a foot from her groom when he swept her over into his lap.

“Much better,” he said, grinning.

“You meant to do that all along,” his bride accused, pretending to pout. William laughed, holding
Michelle’s waist.
 

“Well, now... it’s not really so bad, is it?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at his ladylove.

“No,” Michelle said, shyly. “Not at all. I like being close to you.”

“Well, thank you,” William said, gently. “There’s no one else I’d rather wait here with, that is for certain.” Michelle gave him a little kiss on his cheek before leaning comfortably against his shoulder. William held his bride close; leaning his head against hers, he closed his eyes, just enjoying the warmth of her skin and scent of her hair.