Everyone begins to congratulate us. By the time we've been hugged and kissed by all the guests, the chairs have been moved out of the way. That space is now a dance floor. Servers in tuxes and short black dresses roam the garden with trays full of appetizers. Champagne toasts are being made all around, yet I barely hear anything the entire time.

All I want to do is leave and be alone with Sebastian.

He never leaves my side the entire night. His hand's always on my bare back. I scold myself a million times for getting a dress that didn't have a back. I should have known he'd have his hand on my bare skin all night, putting my spine in an overload of tingles.

After dinner and a few dances, it's time for the bouquet toss. I go to the dance floor and throw it in the air. Paisley catches it and shrieks with excitement.

Alexander moves a chair to the dance floor and orders me to sit. Sebastian gives me his dirty, sexy look, and my butterflies reignite.

The song starts. Sebastian slides his hand up my leg slowly, his lips twitching. I try not to squirm, but I can't help it and shift in my seat.

He puts his lips on my ankle, moving up my calf, over my knee, and past my garter to the highest part of my inner thigh as possible.

And I swear that I feel him inhale deeply. That only creates more heat searing through my veins.

He finally removes the garter, and I'm positive my face is as red as a tomato. It's so hot, I'm going to break out into a sweat.

Sebastian's arrogant expression doesn't help cool me off. He tosses it, and I don't know who catches it.

Paisley and the man who caught the garter dance to a song. Halfway through it, Sebastian tugs me into him, and we dance.

There's no room between us. He can't get any closer. He leans into my ear and murmurs, "Glad your pussy's on fire for me, Mrs. Cartwright. I'm over this party. How about you?" He gives me a challenging, dirty stare.

There's no other answer I can give him. "Yes," I say breathily, wanting more than ever to be alone with him.

Satisfaction erupts on his chiseled features. He guides me away from everyone, and we don't even say goodbye.

There's a limo waiting for us. We get in, and he pulls me onto his lap, kissing me with a newfound fire.

I barely realize we've passed the house, but when I do, I question, "Where are we going?"

His eyes twinkle. "I'm taking you on a honeymoon, Mrs. Cartwright."

Twenty-Two

SEBASTIAN

Georgia freezes. She hesitates, then says, "A honeymoon?"

The hairs on my neck rise. I question, "That's what married people do, right?"

She swallows hard and turns toward the window.