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She nodded as tears splashed against her fingers covering her mouth.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes!Hell, yes!”

He laughed, his heart filled with warmth. “Tonight, we wed, in Barbados.”

Her eyes shot over to him. “Jacob!”

“Take us to the hangar, love. There’s a jet waiting.”

“How did you prepare this? You’ve been in the hospital for three days!”

“I had all of this prepared before I got shot. I just managed to live to see the day.”

Her face fell. “That’s not funny.”

“Still?”

“No!” She pushed him in the shoulder and chuckled.

“All right, all right. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“No!”

He laughed as she pulled out of the parking lot and drove to the airport.

* * *

Candlelight illuminateda path down the beach. Barefoot, in a white Vera Wang gown that draped off her shoulders with a mermaid top, flaring from her waist and stretching into a sheer train behind her, Carla strolled to Jacob.

He was debonair in an all-white suit that highlighted his chocolate skin and brought out his beautiful broad smile. His feet were also bare, and the only people in attendance were him, Carla, and the island bishop. On the sand, next to him laid his crutches, and around them as a makeshift altar were seven fire torches sticking from the sand.

Jacob drew her into his embrace when she got close enough to touch, and while the bishop went on with the traditional commentary, they stared at each other—hearts beating and nerves dancing at the thought of becoming one.

“Jacob Alexander Rose, do you take Carla Jones to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Carla’s heart slammed in her chest, and tears sprang from her eyes. She sniffled and tried to pull herself together, but it was no use.

The bishop smiled at her, then looked up at Jacob and winked. Jacob rubbed her hands in the spirit of calming her.

He lifted her veil and pulled her close as her body vibrated, her cries growing heavier by the second.

“Ti amo così tanto Bella. Luce della mia vita. Amante della mia anima.”I love you so much, beautiful. Light of my life. Lover of my soul.”

She sniffled and looked into his eyes as she responded.

“Ti amo troppo bello. Il Mio amante. Mio eroe. La mia vita.” I love you, too, handsome. My lover. My hero. My life.

He kissed her on her forehead, desperately wanting to taste her mouth. Looking back at the bishop, Jacob nodded, and the bishop continued.

“Ms. Carla Jones, do you take Jacob Alexander Rose to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”

Her voice was shaky when she said, “I do.”

Jacob squeezed her fingers as his heart also drummed behind his breastplate.

“By the power vested in me, by the islands of the Caribbean and the country of Barbados, I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Rose.”

The caress of his lips on hers set off sparks as they melted into one another. A moan fumbled between them, and heat swirled in a gust of wind. Their tongues tangled, and tingles crawled up their spines.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he murmured as they kissed.

“Newsflash, husband, I’ve always been yours for the taking.”

He deepened their connection, never wanting to breathe without her for a minute.