On The Way To A Wedding

by Ingrid Weaver

  “You can’t stay.”

  “Then why are you hanging on to me?”

  She tightened her grip on his jacket and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it now, okay?”

  He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, holding her until his tensed muscles gradually relaxed. Slowly he eased away from her and grasped her hands. He looked at her wrists, then bent forward and kissed the reddened skin.

  In disbelief, Lauren felt a tear slide hotly down her cheek. “Nick...”

  “Sh,” he said, straightening up. “You’re right. This isn’t the time to talk.” He turned to slide the chain into its slot on the door, then shrugged out of his jacket and his shoulder holster, dropping them to the floor. He twined his fingers with hers and led her across the living room and down the hall to the bathroom.

  Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Lauren watched numbly as Nick opened the faucets on the bathtub, picked up a bottle of bubble bath and poured half of it into the running water. With a smile that brought on another spurt of tears, he turned toward her and began to unbutton her blouse. Although his nostrils flared and his hands weren’t quite steady, he kept his gaze on her face as he took off her clothes and helped her into the tub.

  The warm water and the bubbles were like an extension of being carried in Nick’s arms. Bit by bit the remnants of fear that she hadn’t even wanted to acknowledge seeped from her body. Leaning her head back against the tub, she breathed in the fragrant steam and looked at Nick.

  He was sitting on the toilet seat lid, a towel clutched tightly between his hands. His hair, damp from the heat in the room, clung in dark strands to his forehead and curled wildly at the nape of his neck. The expression on his face was so fiercely protective it sent awareness rippling over her skin. Yet the second he caught her gaze, his expression softened and he rose to hold out the towel.

  The wave of desire took Lauren by surprise. He’d seen her naked five nights ago, and the pleasure they had brought each other had been more than she’d imagined was possible. Yet the longing she felt now was deeper, stronger and somehow more intimate than anything she’d experienced before. She stepped out of the tub, took the towel from his hands and pressed herself full length to the front of his body.

  For a breathless moment he didn’t move, the water from her bath soaking into his clothes. But then he exhaled harshly and dropped his head to the side of her neck. “Maybe we’d better talk, after all,” he said.

  She slipped her arms around his waist. “No.”

  “I want to do what’s best for you, to make you feel better.”

  “Oh, you are,” she said, curling her leg behind his to rub her foot along his calf.

  “I wanted to prove that there’s more than this between us. There are things I planned to say—”

  “Later.” She lifted her head, brushing a kiss across his ear. “Make love to me, Nick,” she whispered.

  Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he smiled. She felt it in the warmth that flowed into her. Without any more hesitation, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  No words were spoken as he discarded his clothes and tumbled to the mattress with her. The passion that flared between them was as powerful as it had always been. And yet Lauren knew there was a difference this time. In the same way she had been able to feel Nick’s unseen smile, she felt something new in his touch.

  They didn’t spend long on preliminaries. They didn’t need to. The lingering adrenaline from the evening transformed to desire in a dizzying rush. With a swift, fierce tenderness, Nick joined his body to hers.

  She clasped him to her, every nerve screaming for completion. He moved once, twice, hard and sure, sending her spiraling over the edge, catching her cry of delight with a kiss.

  Even when the tremors began to fade, the kiss continued. Lauren was suffused with a satisfaction deeper than anything she’d felt before. Satisfaction and belonging and... rightness.

  Nick rolled to his side, hooking his leg over hers to keep her with him. He drew up the sheet and pressed her tightly to his chest as his lips grazed her cheek. For long, delicious minutes they remained motionless, their hearts beating in unison.

  “I think my ancestors had the right idea,” Nick murmured, trailing his hand down her back in a slow caress.

  “Mmm?”

  “It would be a lot simpler if I could toss you in front of my saddle and gallop away with you in my arms.”

  She arched her back so that she could look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Surrounded by his lush, dark lashes, his blue eyes sparkled. “Cossacks and conquistadors, remember?”

  Lauren stroked a lock of hair from his forehead, then tunneled her fingers into the silky curls at his nape. “How could I forget? You had to get the macho streak of heroism from somewhere.”

  “I’m no hero.”

  “So you keep telling me. I knew you would find me tonight. I don’t know how, or why, but I did.”

  “Yeah, well, my ancestors wouldn’t have let anyone mess with their women, either.”

  From someone else, the comment would have been outrageous. But not from Nick. “You’re completely serious, aren’t you,” she said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Am I your woman?”

  He lowered his hand and splayed his fingers over her hip. “Feels like it to me.”

  His tone was as possessive as his hold on her body. She caught her breath. “Nick...”

  “You’re mine, Lauren,” he said, tightening his grip. “And if I could whisk you off to our own private horizon, I would. I’d take you away from all the hurt in your past. I’d show you that you don’t have to be afraid to trust your feelings. I’d prove that what we have isn’t going to burn out in one night or one year or one century—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips to stop his words. She knew where this was leading. She’d known it from the moment she’d felt the difference in his touch tonight. She’d known it for days. That’s why she’d sent him away. That’s why she’d been so frightened of the feelings he stirred....

  But she wasn’t frightened now, even though she knew that the intimacy they were sharing went far beyond the physical union of their flesh. No, this time she didn’t want to hide from the emotion that was rushing through her. With a trembling smile, she dropped her hand to his chest.

  The sparkle in his eyes became a determined glow. He returned her smile with one that was positively dazzling, then covered her fingers with his and pressed her palm over his heart. “Feel that? It’s yours.”

  “Oh, Nick.”

  “I love you, Lauren.”

  The declaration was as simple and direct as everything else about him. And it was just as impossible to resist. She curled forward, nudging their hands aside in order to brush a kiss over the spot where her palm had been.

  Love. She had always associated it with weakness and vulnerability. Yet she didn’t feel weak. She felt strong, capable of anything. Maybe even loving in return.

  Maybe?

  She turned her head, listening to the steady throb of his heart beneath her ear. Yes, she loved him. She’d been fighting against it from the moment she’d first looked into his eyes, and sometime during the past two weeks, the battle had been thoroughly lost.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her face upward until her mouth was a breath away from his. “It’s all right. You don’t need to say anything.”

  “But—”

  “I pushed you too hard before. If you need more time to get used to the idea, it’s okay. But I’m giving you fair warning, Lauren.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t intend to give up.”

  “So I’ve noticed. It’s just one of the reasons I love you, Nick.”

  He reacted instantly, rolling on top of her and lifting his head to look into her eyes. “Say it again.”

  She smiled. “I l
ove you, Nick.”

  A quiver traveled through his body as he brought his mouth down on hers, sealing her words with a kiss that said it all.

  Chapter 15

  Sunshine slanted through the stained glass window, casting whimsical patterns on the sober wooden pews. The dark green floor, the golden pulpit and the white altar cloth were alive with dapples of color. Organ music mingled with the sunshine, wafting through the air in a joyful babble of tones. From the back of the church, Lauren scanned the people who were already seated, then picked up her skirt to keep from tripping and hurried to the room where Angela and her bridesmaids were waiting.

  “Did you see Dad anywhere?” Angela asked, her forehead wrinkled with concern.

  “No, but I’m sure he’ll turn up. He still has—” she glanced at the clock on the wall “—five minutes.”

  “The minister said they can’t wait. They’ve got three more ceremonies booked after this one.”

  Lauren picked up the white veil and fitted it on Angela’s head, fluffing the gauzy lace over her sister’s vibrant curls. “Will you stop worrying? Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “If I were superstitious, I’d suspect that this wedding was cursed.”

  “Relax. We’ve had some bad luck, but—”

  “Bad luck?” Angela interrupted, her voice rising. “Is that what you call having my maid of honor kidnapped from the wedding rehearsal?”

  “Angie, that’s over. I’m fine. Nothing’s going to stop this now.”

  She shook her head, knocking her veil askew. “I know you’re right. I do. I wish I could get my nerves under control.”

  “It’s your wedding day. You’re entitled to be nervous,” she said. “Just remember what this is for. Think about walking down the aisle to Eddy, and about how wonderful it’s going to be to share your life with the man you love.”

  “We should have eloped.”

  “No, I think you’re doing the right thing.” She reached up to straighten Angela’s veil, anchoring it in place with a pair of hairpins. “There’s something very special about the ritual of the wedding ceremony. To stand up in front of your family and friends and publicly vow to love, honor and cherish one man for the rest of your days... well, that’s the kind of courage and commitment you’ll be able to build a life on.”

  Angela smiled shakily. “What a beautiful thing to say.”

  “And you’re a beautiful bride,” Lauren said, taking a step back to look at her. Despite all the delays and the rescheduled fitting, the dressmaker had produced a gown that made Angela look radiant. No, it was more than the softly gathered white satin that made her glow. Shining through the layer of last-minute jitters, there was an eagerness and the kind of steady certainty that could only come from love.

  Lauren didn’t question her ability to recognize it. She’d seen that same glow on her own face when she’d looked into the mirror this morning. Wasn’t it amazing how much more she was able to see when she wasn’t trying to be merely an observer?

  The door behind them opened and Angela looked past her expectantly. “Dad! You made it.”

  Vincent Abbot grinned as he squeezed into the crowded room. Looking tanned and fit, he dropped his suitcase and greeted his daughters with quick hugs. “Of course I made it. Sorry I cut it so close, but I had some bad luck.”

  Angela’s smile faltered. “You had bad luck?”

  He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I would have been here last night, but the baggage handlers defected to the rebels. Then my connecting flight was delayed and the taxi from the airport broke down.”

  Angela threw up her hands. “It’s cursed. It must be.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Lauren said, taking the last boutonniere from the florist’s box. She pinned it into place on Vincent’s lapel. “We’ll tell you about it later.”

  He caught her hand before she could move away. “And how are you holding up, Lauren?” he asked, lowering his voice.

  “Duxbury’s in custody. He’ll probably have a psychiatric assessment before the trial but—”

  “Who’s Duxbury? What are you talking about?”

  She paused. “You haven’t heard the news?”

  “I haven’t heard anything in days. The communications systems were destroyed by the rebels. What happened?”

  “That’s another long story. What were you talking about?”

  “The wedding,” he said. “I hope it isn’t too rough for you.”

  Smiling, she squeezed his hand. Her answer was the same one she’d given for years whenever anyone asked about her feelings. But this time, she told the truth. “I’m just fine, Dad.”

  And she was. For months she had been dreading the painful memories this day would stir up, but now she was no longer afraid. She could handle it, not by hiding from her emotions but by embracing them. She didn’t want distance or detachment. It was time to accept herself and her feelings, time to admit she’d been wrong about so many things....

  “Oh, my God,” Angela murmured. “It’s time.”

  “Yes,” Lauren said, helping to assemble everyone into the correct order. “It certainly is.”

  The music swelled in an exultant crescendo just as Nick squeezed into a vacant spot near the middle of the church. Like the rest of the congregation, he turned his head to watch the bridal party begin their walk up the aisle. He hadn’t been to a wedding since his own short, ill-fated attempt at matrimony. He’d been invited to several, but he’d always declined, knowing his negative attitude would have cast a pall over what should have been a celebration.

  Yet he hadn’t even considered missing this one. He took his hands from his pockets and buttoned the jacket of his suit coat, then checked to make sure the knot of his tie was straight. Damn, he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. He’d vowed not to push too hard again, to give Lauren all the time she needed to come to terms with the idea of having a relationship, but it wasn’t in his nature to sit idly by without making an effort to get what he wanted.

  There hadn’t been time to settle anything this morning. They’d been halfway through breakfast when the phone had started ringing. The first call had been from the station manager at Channel Ten, an invitation for Lauren to put together a special on her kidnapping ordeal. Despite her problems of the week before, her career was back on track. As a matter of fact, it was shaping up to be better than ever. Victoria had decided they needed to put more human aspect into their news program, and she wanted Lauren to play a larger part.

  Next it had been Captain Gilmour, who had tracked Nick down in order to inform him he was officially back on the payroll. It was what Nick had wanted for days, but his first official act had been to ask for the day off. He’d tried to talk to Lauren then, but they’d gone to pick up her car, and she’d had to get ready for the wedding, and he’d had to go downtown and then change into his suit and...

  Nick’s thoughts whirled to a stop as Lauren stepped into the aisle. She was dressed in green taffeta the color of her eyes. The old-fashioned gown was gloriously feminine, from, the snugly fitting bodice to the flaring skirt that rustled against the floor. She’d left her hair loose, her only ornament a spray of tiny white flowers that nestled behind one ear. Nick had seen her in everything from a tailored suit to nothing at all, and he’d always known that she was a beautiful woman, yet today she took his breath away.

  It wasn’t because of what she was wearing. And it wasn’t the shaft of sunlight she walked through as she made her way up the flower-lined aisle. No, her radiance came from within.

  As if she sensed his presence, she turned her head, her gaze locking with his. A delicate flush rose in her cheeks, a silent, private shared memory of the night before. Then she smiled, and Nick felt his heart thud hard with a mixture of pride and wonder.

  The last remaining doubts about what he was doing here dissolved.

  She was his.

  And she loved him.

  The
ceremony progressed with a smooth inevitability as Angela and Eddy exchanged their vows. Although Nick tried to concentrate, his attention was fixed on Lauren, and on the words he wanted to say to her. By the time the church echoed with the chords of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, Nick was shifting with impatience, drumming his fingers on the pew in front of him.

  Yet even once the wedding was over, Nick didn’t get a chance to have Lauren to himself. There were the apparently never-ending photographs to be taken on the church steps, and then the reception at the banquet hall. He only stole a few minutes with Lauren before she left him to join the rest of the wedding party at the head table.

  Finally the small band at the other end of the hall began to play a waltz. Nick made his way back to Lauren just as her father led Angela onto the dance floor. Deciding not to risk being separated again, Nick clamped his arm around Lauren’s waist and drew her firmly against his side.

  She turned her head to welcome him with a smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself. I didn’t know the wedding was going to be this big.”

  “Angie has a lot of friends, and Eddy comes from a large family.” She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I can’t believe we managed to pull this off without a hitch, considering all the problems beforehand.”

  “So does this mean you’re changing your opinion about weddings?”

  She hesitated. “I suppose so. What about you?”

  “Yeah. They go on kind of long, though, don’t they?”

  She laughed. “Oh, Nick. Only you would say something like that.”

  Nick watched as Angela gave her father a hard hug before she waltzed off in her new husband’s arms. Eddy’s best man approached Lauren, obviously expecting her to join him for the dance, but Nick glared at him until he changed direction and asked one of the bridesmaids, instead.

  Lauren twisted to look up at him. “That was a bit possessive, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. You mind?”

  “Actually, I don’t. I’ve been trying to get the chance to be with you for hours.”

  Nick noticed another man coming toward them. Enfolding Lauren’s hand in his, he led her onto the floor. The waltz ended, but neither of them made any attempt to move. One tune blended into the next, and as they moved in time to the music, Nick remembered another dance, when the music had come from his radio, and the dance floor had been his living room. And she had spent the night in his arms.