Everything

XLIII

It had been just over six glorious weeks since Spencer had put a platinum wedding ring on my finger. Since I had become Mrs Haywood.

And I had loved every minute of it.

We had spent the last six weeks in utter bliss, euphoria didn't even begin to cover it and I felt like I was floating on top of the universe.

My handsome husband had doted on me every minute, whisking me away for a three day break in the Cotswolds as our honeymoon of sorts - the only true break we'd both be able to take away from work, aside our trip to Spencer's parents itself.

He'd barely let me out of the bedroom to explore the sights and take in the surroundings, but I could hardly complain.

It was here where we celebrated his birthday. I took my time to truly ensure I could make his day special - on his step closer to 30, I'd teased - and even managed to pull a few surprise strings with the help of my new brother and sister in law, Serena and Sebastian.

But soon enough we were back in the hustle and bustle of New York, back to our apartment, but starting our lives together as a married couple.

I was standing in front of the mirror in the main room, fixing the emerald coloured satin material that skimmed my curves and nipped me in tight at the waist.

It was hard to believe it had been a full year since the last Attorney's Ball - since the drama with Spencer and I had first begun. A whole year since he'd kissed me and there was no turning back.

I wasn't sure if it was my married status which had given me such a confidence boost, but staring at myself, my hair long and wavy, tucked behind my ear just as my husband preferred... I felt like a bombshell.

It was only affirmed by my handsome husband, entering the room with the draft pages of The Global in hand, preoccupied, but soon becoming slack jawed once he laid eyes on me.

He blinked rapidly, "Hell, Adriana, you look like Jessica Rabbit in that dress. Are you trying to kill me with these gowns? Because it's working."

I giggled, looking at his reflection in the mirror, "Compliments, Mr Haywood? I must say you don't scrub up too badly yourself."

Spencer looked gorgeous in a tailored Tom Ford tuxedo. It almost made me not want to go and have my way with him instead...

He smirked, clearly noting my overawed expression, "Why thank you Mrs Haywood. I mean, I was only just thinking how excellent you look in these pages, but you've blown me away tonight."

My feature interview - a sit down with my husband's paper - would run tomorrow morning and Spencer had taken the liberty of showing me the preview.

An image of me, with the text perfectly hugging the shape of me on the page stood out alongside the headline and subheading: "Law's Next Best Thing - Adriana Haywood speaks exclusively to The Global Reporter on growing up in Cancun, her coveted place at Columbia, and soaring to legal heights at just 27 years old courtesy of Boone, Webster, Rodriguez - the firm which now bears her maiden name."

I'd decked myself out in a fitted white suit and some of my tallest white pencil heels in an effort to make myself more executive. And sitting down with my legs crossed, my chin perched on my hand showing off stiletto shaped nails, I looked every inch the legal partner I should've.

Spencer had abandoned the pages and was directly behind me, his head resting on my shoulder and his lips worrying a pulse on my neck as I arched into him like a cat.

"Hm, you look sensational." He whispered, now planting soft kisses on the shell of my ear.

"Spence..." I squirmed in delight.