“Yes...thank you.”
Off she moved in a daze and Amy couldn’t help grinning at Jake.
His wolf eyes gleamed. “You were jealous of her that day at The Watermark.”
“I could have scratched her eyes out.” Amy admitted.
“I should have raced you off to bed that afternoon.”
“You can do it tonight instead.”
“Oh, I will. I will.” he promised her. “Though I doubt we’ll make it as far as the bed.”
Which put Amy in such a high state of sexual arousal, she barely tasted the gourmet food circulated by the hostesses; smoked salmon with a sprinkling of caviar, swordfish wrapped in Chinese spinach, little cups of sweet lamb curry and rice, deep-fried corn fritters, tandoori chicken kebabs. She tried them all, wanting to experience everything about tonight, but her awareness of Jake was uppermost.
It was a beautiful evening, a clear sky filling with stars as it darkened, only a light breeze ruffling the water, the warmth of the long summer day still lingering in the air.
The harbour was almost a maze of yachts, all sorts of small crafts, pleasure boats, the tall ships that had sailed in from around the world, ferries trying to weave through them all.
Crowds had gathered at vantage points around the foreshores, some of them virtually hanging on cliffs, clinging to rocks, waiting to see the fireworks display. It seemed as though all of Sydney had come out to watch the spectacle and celebrate New Year’s Eve together.
The captain positioned Free Spirit mid-harbour, quite close to Fort Denison, giving a centre-stage view of the Opera House and the great Coat-hanger bridge which would be highly featured by the fireworks. As twilight sunk into the darkness of night, most of the guests moved up to the top deck, Jake and Amy with them. The display was scheduled to begin at nine o’clock, so families could enjoy it before children became too tired.
Amy leant against the waist-high railing. Jake stood behind her, his arms encircling her, holding her close, letting her feel his arousal, exciting her with it. There might have been only the two of them, alone together. Everyone was looking skywards, waiting for the darkness to light up with colour.
Then the fireworks began, shooting up from the great stone pylons that supported the bridge—huge explosive bursts of stars, balls of brilliant colour growing bigger and bigger before showering the sky with a brilliant rain of sparks, the whole skyline erupting in a wildly splendid mingling of reds and blues and greens and gold and silver. It was magical, glorious, totally captivating. It went on and on, becoming more and more surprising, stunning, fantastic. The whole span of the bridge came alight, streams of gold pouring down to the water far below it.
“What are you thinking?” Jake murmured in her ear.
“I was thinking of our wedding night and how it will feel.” Amy whispered.
“How do you imagine it will feel?”
“Like this, Jake. Like this.”
Suddenly, flashing across the huge coat hanger arch were the two curved lines of a smiling mouth, outlined in brilliant gold.
“Yes.” Jake breathed in awe. “Just like that.”
Amy’s heart swelled with love and happiness and wonder.
A smile...
The smile of fulfilment...
On their wedding night.