Champagne and Moonlight

by JoAnn Ross

  When the tumbling finally stopped, Matt looked at her. “I’ve tried not to complicate things. But I want you, Shiloh. I have from the beginning.”

  “I want you, too.” It was only a whisper. But it vibrated with pent-up emotions. “So much it hurts.”

  “I can identify with that.” Sighing, he kissed her stomach one last time, then stood up. “The last time we rushed into bed. This time I want to do things right.”

  “We’ve already waited months,” she pointed out.

  He laughed at that, a rough, humorless laugh. “You don’t have to remind me. But as much time as we’ve spent together, going to the doctor, to the childbirth classes, dinners at my parents, movies with Gram, we haven’t had a real date.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Ah, but I do.” He trailed his hand down her face. “I’ve already seduced you, Shiloh. Now I want a chance to woo you.”

  She felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. “It’s hormones,” she insisted, as he tenderly wiped them away. “Really.”

  But they both knew it was a great deal more. Just as they knew they were going to have to deal with these feelings they’d both been trying to ignore. But not tonight.

  Although his intentions were absolutely honorable, as he kissed her again, slower, deeper, Matt knew that if he didn’t get out of here now, he’d be sunk. Again.

  “We’ve got brunch with your father and my parents tomorrow morning,” he reminded her. “If we survive that, I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night,” he said, brushing his lips lightly against hers. “And make sure you wear that bra.”

  Unwilling to release her quite yet, he plucked at her lips with his. “I don’t suppose your sister sent panties to go with it?”

  “Two pairs.” He could feel her smile beneath his mouth. “Bikinis.”

  “I believe,” he murmured happily, “that your sister and I are going to become very good friends.”

  He gave her one final quick, hard kiss that took her breath away. Then he left the suite. As she sank down onto the couch, Shiloh took in the ice that had melted all over the coffee table and laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Thanks to Catherine running interference, the family brunch went amazingly well. Shiloh was not surprised when the General and Augusta hit it off right away. They were both no-nonsense, forthright individuals. The two fathers talked golf, and she was more than a little relieved that although her father obviously still wished she was married, he seemed to have come to the conclusion that Matt was at least more worthy of his daughter than the other men she’d dated.

  Later that afternoon, as ridiculous as it felt to primp for a date at this stage in her life, Shiloh spent a long time getting ready for Matt. She even tried to take a nap so she wouldn’t conk out by nine o’clock, but she was too giddy and excited to sleep.

  She took a long soak in a bubble bath, refilling the water twice. Then, after toweling herself off, she smoothed lotion over her body. She followed up by dusting herself with powder. As the soft bristles of the brush flicked over her fragrant flesh, she imagined they were Matt’s hands, touching her breasts, stroking her belly, skimming across her shoulders.

  Her mind was filled with him as she stood in front of the full-length mirror and made a ruthless appraisal of exactly how much her body had changed since the last time he’d seen her without clothes. Would he find her girth a turnoff?

  No. Shiloh smiled. Not Matt. Last night she’d had no doubt that he wanted her just the way she was. But wanting was easy. Tonight she hoped he’d begin to realize that he loved her, as well.

  She’d put on the black bra and panties and her hair was up in big blue Velcro rollers when there was a knock at the door. She cast a quick glance at the clock. It was only five-thirty!

  “Go away,” she called out. “I’m not ready.”

  “It’s Kevin, Shiloh. I just wanted to tell you the good news.”

  Sighing, she put down the mascara wand, slipped into the terry robe and padded barefoot to the door. “What is it? And please, make it fast because I’m trying to get ready to go out.”

  “With Matt.” The leader of the Outlaws grinned at her. “He’s taking you out on a real date.”

  “You know?”

  “Everyone knows. We all think it’s cool. Dorothy’s even started a pool, so we can bet on when you’ll get hitched.” His smile turned as warm as his brother Fletch’s. “I don’t suppose you’d consider tomorrow? About five in the afternoon?”

  “Sorry, Kevin.” She patted his bearded cheek. “You lose.” Deciding there was no point in being embarrassed about everyone in town knowing her business, she said, “So, what’s up? I’m guessing you didn’t drop by to remind me of my date.”

  “No. I wanted to give you the great news. It’s finally happened, Shiloh.”

  The light in his eyes could only mean one thing. “The Outlaws have been offered a recording contract?”

  “Well, not exactly. But close. We’ve finally gotten an agent to come out here from Nashville to watch our act. He’s going to be here sometime in the next couple weeks.”

  “Oh, Kevin.” Shiloh threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss.

  “If you don’t let go of my woman, Brown,” Matt growled from behind him, “I’m going to have to throw you through a window.”

  Kevin released Shiloh as if she’d suddenly turned into a flaming torch. “Hey, Matt,” he said, holding up his hands, “it’s not how it looks. Shiloh was just congratulating me on—”

  “Kevin,” Matt said quietly, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go downstairs. Right now.”

  “Good idea.” The guitar player let out a relieved breath. “See you, Shiloh. Have fun tonight, you two.”

  Shiloh was too furious with Matt to even attempt to defend herself. How dare he catch her looking like this? “You’re early.”

  “I know. I just couldn’t wait.”

  “Tough.” She pushed him into the hall and shut the door. “Come back at six.”

  Matt stared at the closed door in front of him, then he laughed.

  Thirty minutes later, Shiloh still wasn’t amused by the incident.

  “I don’t understand,” Matt complained, as he drove away from the hotel, “you’re all the time telling me that I’m too rigid. I figured you’d appreciate some spontaneity.”

  “You thought I’d like my date catching me looking like a pregnant bag lady?”

  “Actually, I thought you looked kinda cute.”

  She muttered a curse.

  “Really. Those curlers made it look as if you were trying to pick up satellite reception from outer space. I was thinking about seeing if we could get ESPN on the TV.”

  “It’s not funny.” She slapped his arm even as her mutinous lips twitched. “I wanted to look nice for you.”

  “You always look beautiful to me, sweetheart.”

  As he patted her knee, Shiloh melted. “I’ve decided to forgive you.”

  From her haughty tone, she could have been Catherine the Great dismissing an errant footman. Matt loved it. “Thank you,” he said with what he hoped was an appropriately humble attitude. “I appreciate your generosity.”

  This time her smile broke free. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “That idea is precisely what had me showing up early in the first place,” Matt informed her.

  She relaxed and began to enjoy herself. “Where are we going?” she asked as he headed out of town.

  “A little place I know in Aspen.”

  “Aspen? We’re not eating at your house?”

  “I told you, this is a date. I wanted to take you somewhere special.”

  Drinking in his smile, Shiloh certainly felt special. She was also glad she was wearing a dress Savannah had sent her from Paris. Although the flowered silk was definitely overkill for Paradise, she’d wanted to look her best tonight.

  “By the way,” he said, proving they were on the same wavelength, “I di
dn’t get a chance to mention that I love that dress.”

  She ran her hand down the silk, where brilliant poppies bloomed on a black background. Cut tunic style, to allow for her expanding stomach, it featured a deep scoop neckline and a short, flirty skirt. It was ridiculously sexy for a pregnant woman. Which is exactly why Savannah bought it, Shiloh knew. It was also exactly why she loved it.

  “Savannah bought it in Paris.”

  “I didn’t think it looked like something you could pick up at Masterson’s Mercantile.” He cast a sideways glance at the soft globes of her breasts, so enticingly framed by that flowered silk, and felt the heat flooding into his groin. “You’re just lucky I’ve promised myself to be a gentleman tonight. Otherwise I’d probably end up dragging you beneath the table before we finished our entrées.”

  Even though she knew he was joking, the sexual suggestion caused her tummy to flip in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the twins.

  Later, Shiloh would be certain that the dinner—served in a lovely restaurant with a charming country French decor and a dazzling view of the Rockies—was superb. But all she could remember was how his long dark fingers curled around the handle of his fork, or the way his throat moved when he swallowed his wine, or how his voice wrapped around her like a warm velvet cloak on a snowy night.

  After dinner, they danced, but only to the slow songs, and even then it was more swaying than dancing. When his lips brushed her temple, she sighed happily. When her fingers stroked the nape of his neck, he felt as if she were branding him with her tender touch.

  And then, too soon, they were in the elevator at the Silver Nugget, creaking their way up to the third floor. “There ought to be a plaque,” he murmured.

  “A plaque?”

  “Commemorating the first place we ever kissed.”

  “Perhaps we can commemorate it in our own way.” Her heart was shining in her eyes as she looked at him.

  “Funny you should mention that. Since I was thinking the same thing.” He drew her gently to him, framed her face in his hands and as his mouth touched hers, Shiloh realized that this was the kiss she’d been waiting for all of her life.

  Her breath escaped unevenly as she put her arms around him and held on tight, expecting him to take them rocketing into the mists. But his lips remained gentle, making Shiloh marvel at the tenderness beneath the strength. Growing up on military bases, she’d known many men like her father—autocratic, opinionated, tough as nails. And later she’d known too many of the other kind—weak, aimless, content to go wherever life’s currents led them. Men who took what they wanted, then moved on, with no thought to the shattered lives they were leaving behind.

  But Matt was like none of those men. He was absolutely unique, the best of both kinds. Which was why she’d fallen in love with him.

  “You are so soft,” he murmured against her throat. “So sweet.” His hands slipped beneath her top and caressed her breasts. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

  “There’s certainly enough of me to get.”

  Understanding that she needed to be reassured, he ran his palm over her stomach. “All the more to love.”

  She tensed at the word she’d been longing to hear.

  “Shiloh?” He looked at her, concern etched into every line of his handsome face. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Belatedly understanding he meant it in the physical sense, she tried to keep her disappointment to herself. “I’m out on a date with the sexiest man in Colorado, whose kisses can curl my toes. And whose touch can make me burn. What could be wrong?”

  He gave her a long look, not quite trusting her answer. But it was difficult to think with her fragrance surrounding him and memories of the last time they’d been together like this shimmering in his mind.

  Deciding he was imagining things, he lowered his head and kissed her again. A deep, dark, passionate kiss that took both their breaths away. When the elevator reached her floor, he surprised her by lifting her into his arms.

  “Matt!” She was shocked by his behavior. Shocked and thrilled. “I’m too heavy.”

  “Would you stop fixating on your weight?” he asked as he strode down the hall, carrying her with an ease that suggested she weighed little more than a pillow of feathers. “I think you’re great. Better than great. You’re perfect.”

  He managed to unlock the door without even having to shift her in his arms, then carried her into the bedroom, where he laid her on the bed. This time, when he undressed her, he did it slowly, thoroughly, arousing her with butterfly touches and long, drawn-out kisses that made her skin warm and her heart swell. And when they finally came together, it was as if it was the first time for either of them, ever. And it was wonderful. It was, Shiloh thought, as she lay wrapped in his arms the next morning, heaven.

  She spent the next two weeks in a romantic fog. All she could think about was Matt, and if there were times she mixed up a drink order or two, people were understanding.

  “All you have to do is look at those two,” Dorothy told Catherine, “to smell orange blossoms.”

  Catherine smiled at the idea. “McCandless women always have August weddings. I’ve already booked the Aspen Club for the reception. Now all we have to do is wait for my supposedly intelligent son to get a clue.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dorothy said, watching the couple seated at a corner table during Shiloh’s break. Matt’s eyes were on Shiloh’s as he kissed each of her fingers, one at a time. “If that’s not a man in love, I’ll eat Fletch’s trooper hat.”

  It was an unabashedly romantic scene. The two women sighed in unison.

  Lost as she was in the depths of Matt’s gray eyes, Shiloh didn’t hear the band stop playing. Nor was she aware of Kevin coming to their table.

  “Shiloh,” he said, “I gotta talk to you. Alone.”

  “Kevin, Kevin,” Matt said with a long-suffering sigh. “I thought I’d already warned you about staying away from my woman.” He didn’t take his gaze from Shiloh’s face. Her lovely, lovely face.

  “It’s important. Please, Shiloh? I just need a minute.”

  Shiloh heard the honest distress in his tone. She dragged her gaze from Matt’s. “I’ll be right back, Matt,” she promised.

  “You’d better be. Or I’ll come looking for you. And Kevin will go flying through the nearest window.”

  Ignoring the threat, she took hold of the guitar player’s arm and dragged him into the stockroom. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “He didn’t mean that, did he?”

  “What?” she asked, impatient to get back to Matt.

  “That thing about throwing me out a window. He wouldn’t really do that, would he? I mean, it’s against the law, and—”

  “Of course Matt wouldn’t throw you out any window, Kevin.” Shiloh’s frustrated sigh ruffled her bangs. “He’s the sweetest, kindest, most gentle man I’ve ever met. He’d never hurt a flea.”

  “He sure sounded like he meant it.”

  “It’s a joke. Honest.” She folded her arms over the front of her satin dress, which had acquired more and more camouflage draping as the weeks had gone by. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “It’s the Nashville agent.”

  “He’s canceled?”

  “No. He’s coming here tonight!”

  “So?”

  “So, Dinah has laryngitis. She can’t sing.”

  “Oh, Kevin.” This was truly a blow. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course.” Her expression of surprise at the question turned to suspicion. “Why?”

  “During your film festival, I saw that movie where you played a country singer on the Grand Old Opry who was stalked and killed by a psycho deejay.”

  “Country Morning Maniac,” she said. It was not one of her better roles. But she had gotten to sing. Comprehension hit like a neutron bomb. “Oh, no. Don’t even ask—”

  “Did you do you
r own singing in that movie?”

  “Of course I did. There wasn’t enough in the budget to dub in a real singer, but—”

  “Then can’t you help us out, Shiloh? Just this once? Our entire careers, all we’ve worked for since the first day we got together in Jimmy Johnson’s garage when we were thirteen is on the line here. This is our one big shot, and you’re the only one who can save it for us.”

  “Dammit, Kevin.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Isn’t there anyone else you can get?”

  “Not on this short notice. Not anyone who knows our songs like you do.”

  That was because she’d written most of them. She leaned against a wall of beer cartons and closed her eyes, trying to think this all out. It hadn’t been easy convincing Matt that she wasn’t the glamorous Hollywood sexpot he’d first taken her for. Like so many people, he’d confused her movie roles with reality. It especially hadn’t been easy when he had to watch her sashaying around in this satin saloon girl dress every night. And now, just when he’d begun to believe that there actually might be a homebody lurking beneath her former cover-girl exterior, Kevin had to put her in this spot.

  “All right,” she said with a deep sigh. “I’ll do it. But don’t blame me if the agent takes off running. In case you didn’t notice, I can’t carry a tune.” She’d worried about that when she’d made Country Morning Maniac, but the director had assured her everyone would be so busy watching her in those skintight sequin dresses, no one would notice she couldn’t sing.

  “You’ll be great!” Taking hold of her shoulders, he leaned forward to kiss her. Then, remembering Matt’s warning, he dropped his hands. “Thanks, Shiloh. I really owe you.”

  “You sure do. Big-time.” She shook her head, still unable to believe she was agreeing to this. “Just let me explain to Matt and—”

  “There’s no time.”

  “What?”

  “The agent’s already here. I told the guys to start the intro right about now.”

  As she heard the familiar chords—chords she’d written!—Shiloh was sorely tempted to throw Kevin through a window herself.