Mirror of My Soul, Joey Hill [ereader iphone .txt] 📗

for the jewelry maker was me. He’s one of my specialty suppliers, an artist as great as Josh, only in the arena of gems and precious metals. I hope you like it.”

Justin turned, extended the slender box to Tyler. “Your bride had this ordered.”

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She reached out and covered Tyler’s hand as he took it. Justin discreetly withdrew a couple steps so he was not blocking the view of their attentive audience. Tyler and Marguerite’s pose had caught the attention of the other dancers, so the floor had cleared.

Tyler knew she’d never been shy under scrutiny. Even as a Mistress, she knew what was important was what was going on between her and the subject of her restraint. So he suspected the charming flush rising in her cheeks was for what she was about to give him.

“I willingly agreed to be your wife.” A smile touched her mouth. “After your

incessant whining.” Laughter flitted through the crowd. Her eyes locked with his, all teasing melting away. “We took vows in the traditional way, but I also pledge myself to you in all the ways we know between us. And because of that, I want to give you this.”

The conversation even at the outlying tables had stilled. Though she didn’t state it blatantly, he supposed for the sake of the vanilla friends and family present, all understood that what was going on was important. He was riveted himself, caught by the intensity of those blue eyes and the significance of what she was saying to him.

Words she’d obviously taken great time to think about and choose.

“When a child is brought into the world with loving parents, that child learns to smile, laugh, love, be stubborn. She learns to appreciate the reasons worth living. In that regard, you’ve been my parent over the past several months. I wasn’t alive until I met you. You brought me into this world, delivered me here and helped me see that. You bound me to you, made me want to be bound to you. A parent is supposed to unconditionally love, protect against harm, care for the child, hold and shelter her.

Lovers help each other discover passion and longing, understand that same type of love can be given without the binding of blood. You’ve been all those things to me.”

She bowed her head. “I am a Mistress to others; you are the Master of me. Of my heart, mind and soul.”

Tyler, too overcome to speak right away, followed the urging of her fingers and pulled the ribbon, opened the box. The choker was as he had described it to her that day by the tennis courts. A double helix of seed pearls, every third or fourth double row interrupted by a silver icicle. The main pendant was the frame of an angel’s head and wings, the wings serrated delicately like the icicles, which would give tiny pricks to sensitive skin when they touched it with her movement.

He lifted it free to murmurs of approval and a smattering of applause from the entranced audience.

“I ask that you put it on me and accept me as yours forever, and know that all that I am, will ever be, ever was, belongs to you. I submit to your love and trust you to be my Master.”

She said the words softly, but they carried easily to those nearby. It caused odd looks from those who were not cognizant of the underlying meanings, but it would be remembered by those who did not understand as simply an odd quirk to the day. Those 222

Mirror of My Soul

like Mac and Violet, Brendan, Josh and Lauren, all watching, understood the impact of the moment.

As did he. Looking down into the face of her love and devotion, Tyler wondered for the thousandth of what was sure to be a million times what he might ever have done to deserve the gift. And what he could do to deserve keeping it for a lifetime and beyond.

“Whether it takes heaven or hell, I’ll take care of you forever and never abuse the gift of your submission to me.” He promised it, fiercely. She nodded and lifted her chin.

Her neck was bare of jewelry, for she wore his ring on her healed finger and had given back the necklace to Sarah.

He locked the clasp around her throat. His groin tightened when gooseflesh rose on her skin, her eyes heating with arousal at the sensation of the restraint. He drew her to him with a hand on the side of her neck and brought her lips to his.

Chloe, overcome, reached out, covered Brendan’s hand. “He loves her so much.

You can see it. It’s so…she so deserves it.”

Brendan looked at her elfin face, bathed in the evening light. He had noted Chloe’s slower movements down the aisle as she was obviously determined not to use the cane when she served as maid of honor. He’d had to tamp down the rage at the thought of someone harming her. He wondered if she had a lover. As she looked at their clasped hands, a bit of a flush rose in her cheeks. He discarded the idea of another man, and not just because of that flush. If he was the type of lover she deserved, he would have been by her side today, insisting on giving her an arm to lean on as she walked down that aisle.

Before she could draw away, he dared to turn her hand and enfold it in his, taking advantage of the excuse of mutual pleasure in the moment. He found he liked her small hand and hoped she wouldn’t choose to move it away too soon.

When Tyler at last eased his grip, it was with no more than a breath between their parted lips. He gazed down into Marguerite’s eyes, vibrant with their clarity and desire.

For him.

“I can’t wait to get you alone tonight,” he muttered.

Marguerite had to tear her gaze away. As the applause