One lean hand went to her upper thigh. His lips flattened. He looked straight into her eyes as his hand suddenly pinned her hips and he thrust down fiercely.
She cried out, grimacing, writhing as she felt him deep in her body, past a stinging pain that engulfed her.
He stilled, holding her in place while he gave her body time to adjust, his eyes blazing with primitive triumph. His gaze reflected pride and pleasure and possession.
"Yes," he said roughly. "You're part of me and I'm part of you. Now you belong to me, completely."
Her eyes mirrored her shocked fascination. She moved a little and felt him move with her. She swallowed, and then swallowed again, her breath coming in soft jerks as she adjusted to her first intimacy. She loved him. The feel of him was pure delight. She was a woman. She could be a woman. The past was dying already and she was whole and sensuous and fully capable. Her smile was brilliant with joyful self-discovery.
She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him hungrily. The pain had receded and now she felt a new sensation as his hips moved. There were tiny little spasms of pleasure. Her breath came raggedly as she positioned herself to hold on to them. Her nails bit into the hard muscle of his upper arms.
His dark eyes were full of indulgent amusement as he felt her movements. She hesitated once, shy. "Don't stop," he whispered. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
Her lips parted. It wasn't the answer she'd expected.
He bent and kissed her eyelids again, his breath growing more ragged by the minute. "Find a position that gives you what you need," he coaxed. "I won't take my pleasure until you've had yours."
"Oh, Matt," she moaned, unbearably touched by a generosity that she hadn't expected.
He laughed through his desire, kissing her face tenderly. "My own treasure," he whispered. "I wish I could make it last for hours. I want you to blush when you're sixty, remembering this first time. I want it to be perfect for you."
The pleasure was building. It was fierce now, and she was no longer in control of her own body. It lifted up to Matt's and demanded pleasure. She was totally at the mercy of her awakened passion, blind with the need for fulfillment. She became aware of a new sort of tension that was lifting her fiercely to meet every quick, downward motion of his lean hips, that stretched her under his powerful body, that made her pulse leap with delicious throbs of wild delight.
He watched her body move and ripple, watched the expression on her face, in her wide, blind eyes, and smiled. "Yes," he murmured to himself. "Now you understand, don't you? You can't fight it, or deny it, or control it..." He stopped abruptly.
"No! Please, don't...stop!" Her choked cry was followed by frantic, clinging hands that pulled at him.
He eased down again, watching as she shivered. "I'm not going to stop," he whispered softly. "Trust me. I only want to make it as good as it can be for you."
"It feels...wonderful," she said hoarsely. "Every time you move, it's like...like electric shocks of pleasure."
"And we've barely started, baby," he whispered.
He shifted his hips, intensifying her cries. She was completely yielded to him, open to him, wanton. He'd never dreamed that it would be like this. His head began to spin with the delight his body was taking from hers.
She curled her long legs around his powerful ones and lifted herself, gasping when it brought a sharp stab of pleasure.
His hand swept down her body. His face hardened as he began to increase the pressure and the rhythm. She clung to him, her mouth in his throat, on his chest, his chin, wherever she could reach, while he gave in to his fierce hunger and threw away his control.
She'd never dreamed how it would be. She couldn't get close enough, or hold on tight enough. She felt him in every cell of her body. She was ardent, inciting him, matching his quick, hard movements, her back lifting to promote an even closer contact.
She whispered things to him, secret, erotic things that drove him to sensual urgency. She was moaning. She could hear her frantic voice pleading, hear the sound their movements made on the box springs, feel the power and heat of him as her body opened for him and clenched with tension that begged for release.
She whispered his name and then groaned it, and then repeated it in a mad, hoarse little sound until the little throbs of pleasure became one long, aching, endless spasm of ecstasy that made her blind and deaf under the fierce, demanding thrust of his body. She cried out and shivered in the grip of it, her voice throbbing like her body. She felt herself go off the edge of the world into space, into a red heat that washed over every cell in her body.
When she was able to think again, she felt his body shake violently, heard the harsh groan at her ear as he, too, found ecstasy.
He shuddered one last time and then his warm strong body relaxed and she felt it push hers deeper into the mattress. His mouth was at her throat, pressing hungrily. His lips moved all over her face, touching and lifting in a fever of tenderness.
Her dazed eyes opened and looked up into his. He was damp with sweat, as she was. His dark eyes smiled with incredible gentleness into hers.
She arched helplessly and moaned as the pleasure washed over her again.
"More?" he whispered, and his hips moved obligingly, so that the sweet stabs of delight came again and again and again.
She sobbed helplessly afterward, clinging to him as she lay against his relaxed body.
His hand smoothed over her damp hair. He seemed to understand her shattered response, as she didn't.
"I don't know why I'm bawling my head off," she choked, "when it was the closest to heaven I've ever been."
"There are half a dozen technical names for it," he murmured drowsily. "It's letdown blues. You go so high that it hurts to come down."
"I went high," she murmured with a smile. "I walked on the moon."
He chuckled. "So did I."
"Was...was it all right?" she asked suddenly.
He rolled her over on her back and looked down into her curious face. "You were the best lover I've ever had," he said, and he wasn't teasing. "And you will be, from now on, the only woman I ever have."
"Oh, that sounds serious," she murmured.
"Doesn't it, though?" His dark eyes went over her like an artist's brush committing beauty to canvas. He touched her soft breasts with a breathlessly tender caress. "I won't be able to stop, you know," he added conversationally.
"Stop?"
"This," he replied. "It's addictive. Now that I've had you, I'll want you all the time. I'll go green every time any other man so much as looks at you."
It sounded as if he was trying to tell her something, and she couldn't decide what it was. She searched his dark eyes intently.
He smiled with indulgent affection. "Do you want the words?"
"Which words?" she whispered.
He brushed his lips over hers with incredible, breathless tenderness. "Marry me, Leslie."
Chapter Thirteen
Her gasp was audible. It was more than she'd dared hope for when she came in here with him. He chuckled at her expression.
"Did you think I was going to ask you to come out to the ranch and live in sin with me?" he teased with twinkling eyes. His hand swept down over her body possessively. "This isn't enough. Not nearly enough."
She hesitated. “Are you sure that you want something, well, permanent?"
His eyes narrowed. "Leslie, if I'd been a little more reckless, you'd have something permanent. I wanted very badly to make you pregnant."
Her face brightened. "Did you, really? I thought about it, too, just at the end."
He smoothed back her hair and found himself fighting the temptation to start all over again with nothing between them.
"We'll have children," he promised her. "But first we'll build a life together, a secure life that they'll fall into very naturally."
She was fascinated by the expression on his face. It was only just dawning on her that he felt more than a fleeting desire for her body. He wa
s talking about a life together, children together. She knew very little about true relationships, but she was learning all the time.
"Heavy thoughts?" he teased.
"Yes." She smoothed her fingers over his lean cheek.
"Care to share them?" he murmured.
"I was thinking how sweet it is to be loved," she whispered softly.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Physically loved?"
"Well, that, too," she replied.
He smiled quizzically. "Too?"
"You'd never have taken me to bed unless you loved me," she said simply, but with conviction. "You have these strange old-world hang-ups about innocence."
"Strange, my foot!"
She smiled up at him complacently. "Not that I don't like them," she assured him. The smile faded as she searched his dark eyes. "It was perfect. Just perfect. And I'm glad I waited for you. I love you, Matt."
His chest rose and fell heavily. "Even after the way I've treated you?"
"You didn't know the truth," she said. "And even if you were unfair at first, you made all sorts of restitution. I won't have a limp anymore," she added, wide-eyed. "And you gave me a good job and looked out for me..."
He bent and kissed her hungrily. "Don't try to make it sound better than it was. I've been an ogre with you. I'm only sorry that I can't go back and start over again."
"None of us can do that," she said. "But we have a second chance, both of us. That's something to be thankful for."
"From now on," he promised her solemnly, "everything is going to be just the way you want it. The past has been hard for me to overcome. I've distrusted women for so long, but with you I've been able to forget what my mother did. I'll cherish you as long as I live."
"And I'll cherish you," she replied quietly. "I thought I would never know what it was to be loved."
He frowned a little, drawing her palm to his lips. "I never thought I would, either. I was never in love before."
She sighed tenderly. "Neither was I. And I never dreamed it would be so sweet."
"I imagine it's going to get better year after year," he ventured, toying with her fingers.
Her free hand slid up into his dark hair. "Matt?"
"What?"
"Can we do that again?"
He pursed his lips. "Are you sure that you can?" he asked pointedly.
She shifted on the coverlet and grimaced with the movement. "Well, maybe not. Oh, dear."
He actually laughed, bending to wrap her up against him and kiss her with rough affection. "Come here, walking wounded. We'll have a nice nap and then we'll go home and make wedding plans." He smoothed down her wild hair. "We'll have a nice cozy wedding and a honeymoon anywhere you want to go."
"I don't mind if we don't go anywhere, as long as I'm with you," she said honestly.
He sighed. "My thoughts exactly." He glanced down at her. "You could have had a conventional wedding night, you know."
She smoothed her hand over his hair-roughened chest. "I didn't know that you'd want to marry me. But just the same, I had to know if I could function intimately with you. I wasn't sure, you see."
"I am," he said with a wicked grin.
She laughed heartily. "Yes, so am I, now, but it was important that I knew the truth before things went any further between us. I knew it was difficult for you to hold back, and I couldn't bear the thought of letting you go. Not that I expected you to want to marry me," she added ruefully.
"I wanted to marry you the first time I kissed you," he confessed. "Not to mention the first time I danced with you. It was magic."
"For me, too."
"But you had this strange aversion to me and I couldn't understand why. I was a beast to you. Even Ed said it wasn't like me to treat employees that badly. He read me the riot act and I let him."
"Ed's nice."
"He is. But I'm glad you weren't in love with him. At first, I couldn't be sure of the competition."
"Ed was a brotherly sort. He still is." She kissed his chest. "But I love you."
"I love you, too."
She laid her cheek against the place she'd kissed and closed her eyes. "If the lawyers can help my mother, maybe she'll be out for the first christening."
"At least for the second," he agreed, and smiled as his arms closed warm and protective around her, drawing her closer. It was the safest she'd ever been in her life, in those warm, strong arms in the darkness. The nightmares seemed to fade into the shadows of reality that they'd become. She would walk in the light, now, unafraid. The past was over, truly over. She knew that it would never torment her again.
Matt and Leslie were married in the local Presbyterian church, and the pews were full all the way to the back. Leslie thought that every single inhabitant of Jacobsville had shown up for the wedding, and she wasn't far wrong. Matt Caldwell had been the town's foremost bachelor for so long that curiosity brought people for miles around. All the Hart boys showed up, including the state attorney general, as well as the Ballengers, the Tremaynes, the Jacobs, the Coltrains, the Deverells, the Regans and the Burkes. The turnout read like the local social register.
Leslie wore a white designer gown with a long train and oceans of veiling and lace. The women in the office served as maids and matrons of honor, and Luke Craig acted as Matt's best man. There were flower girls and a concert pianist. The local press was invited, but no out of town reporters. Nobody wrote about Leslie's tragic past, either. It was a beautiful ceremony and the reception was uproarious.
Matt had pushed back her veil at the altar with the look of a man who'd inherited heaven. He smiled as he bent to kiss her, and his eyes were soft with love, as were her own.
They held hands all through the noisy reception on the lawn at Matt's ranch, where barbecue was the order of the day.
Leslie had already changed clothes and was walking among the guests when she came upon Carolyn Engles unexpectedly.
The beautiful blonde came right up to her with a genuine smile and a present in her hands.
"I got this for you, in Paris," Carolyn said with visible hesitation and self-consciousness. "It's sort of a peace offering and an apology, all in one."
"You didn't have to do this," Leslie stammered.
"I did." She nodded toward the silver-wrapped present. "Open it."
Leslie pulled off the paper with helpless excitement, puzzled and touched by the other woman's gesture. She opened the velvet box inside and her breath caught. It was a beautiful little crystal swan, tiny and perfect.
"I thought it was a nice analogy," Carolyn murmured. "You've turned out to be a lovely swan, and nobody's going to hurt you when you go swimming around in the Jacobsville pond."
Impulsively Leslie hugged the older woman, who laughed nervously and actually blushed.
"I'm sorry for what I did that day," Carolyn said huskily. "Really sorry. I had no idea..."
"I don't hold grudges," Leslie said gently.
"I know that." She shrugged. "I was infatuated with Matt and he couldn't see me for dust. I went a little crazy, but I'm myself again now. I want you both to be very happy."
"I hope the same for you," Leslie said with a smile.
Matt saw them together and frowned. He came up beside Leslie and placed an arm around her protectively.
"Carolyn brought this to me from Paris," Leslie said excitedly, showing him the tiny thing. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Matt was obviously puzzled as he exchanged looks with Carolyn.
"I'm not as bad as you think I am," Carolyn told him. "I really do hope you'll be happy. Both of you."
Matt's eyes smiled. "Thank you."
Carolyn smiled back ruefully. "I told Leslie how sorry I was for the way I behaved. I really am, Matt."
"We all have periods of lunacy," Matt replied. "Otherwise, nobody in his right mind would ever get into the cattle business."
Carolyn laughed delightedly. "So they say. I have to go. I just wanted to bring Leslie the peace offering. You'll both be on
my guest list for the charity ball, by the way."
"We'll come, and thank you," Matt returned.
Carolyn nodded, smiled and moved away toward where the guests' cars were parked.
Matt pulled his new wife closer. "Surprises are breaking out like measles."
"I noticed." She linked her arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him tenderly. "When everybody goes home, we can lock ourselves in the bedroom and play doctor."
He chuckled delightedly. "Can we, now? Who gets to go first?"
"Wait and see!"
He turned her back toward their guests with a grin that went from ear to ear. "Lucky me," he said, and he wasn't joking.
They woke the next morning in a tangle of arms and legs as the sun peered in through the gauzy curtains. Matt's ardor had been inexhaustible, and Leslie had discovered a whole new world of sensation.
She rolled over onto her back and stretched, uninhibited by her nudity. Matt propped himself on an elbow and looked at her with eyes full of love and possession.
"I never realized that marriage would have so many fringe benefits," she murmured. She stretched again. "I don't know if I have enough strength to walk after last night."
"If you don't, I'll carry you," he said with a loving smile. He reached over to kiss her lazily. “Come on, treasure. We'll have a nice shower and then we'll go and find some breakfast."
She kissed him back. "I love you."
"Same here."
"You aren't sorry you married me, are you?" she asked impulsively. "I mean, the past never really goes away. Someday some other reporter may dig it all back up again."
"It won't matter," he said. "Everybody's got a skeleton or two. And no, I'm not sorry I married you. It was the first sensible thing I've done in years. Not to mention," he added with a sensual touch of his mouth to her body, "the most pleasurable."
She laughed. "For me, too." Her arms pulled him down to her and she kissed him heartily.
Her mother did get a new trial, and her sentence was shortened. She went back to serve the rest of her time with a light heart, looking forward to the day when she could get to know her daughter all over again.
As for Leslie, she and Matt grew closer with every passing day and became known locally as “the lovebirds," because they were so rarely seen apart.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 243