Sarah had gone to so much trouble for them. The cake was perfect, just what she would have picked out. Two engraved champagne glasses and a silver knife sat next to the confection.
She wasn’t sure what to do next. About the time she decided Solo wouldn’t help her out, he took her hand in his and guided it to the knife. The warmth and the promise in his touch made her insides melt almost as much as his kiss. He paused while he stared at her with a little surprise and a great deal of wonder. She looked right back, gazed at him as if there was no tomorrow. To her surprise, she felt a tremor run through his hand into her. Obviously he was as unnerved by this whole thing as she was.
But she didn’t care. She smiled happily at her friends and new relatives before she cut the first slice. When the cake was on the plate, she giggled nervously.
Somewhere in the background she could hear Sarah offer encouragement. So she broke off a piece of wedding cake and fed it to her groom. The touch of his lips against her fingers sent warm little pools of desire through her. And when she looked up, she saw his eyes on hers, hot and hungry.
“My turn.”
His voice was sexy and low and the vibration of it ran down her spine. He grinned mischievously. His fingers, laden with cake, rested on her lips. This time she didn’t feel little pools of warmth. What she felt was a burning heat sweep through her, and he didn’t just feed her the piece of cake. He outlined her lips with a smear of icing on his fingertip.
Nyssa’s knees buckled. She couldn’t help herself. She grabbed for the closest support she could find, Solo, her husband. Her hands rested against his chest, fingers twined nervously into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. Smudges of icing stood out against the black, but all she could think of was maintaining her balance and catching her breath.
“You all right?” He bent down close to her ear.
The warmth of his voice sent shock waves of desire down her back. His lips brushed her earlobe. “Yes,” she managed breathlessly.
“Champagne?”
“All right,” she stood on her own, recovering slightly and managed a quick sip of bubbly liquid. She was more than a little embarrassed, but when she looked out on the faces in front of her, they all beamed. Except her brother.
Her brother’s scowl frightened her. Jon stared directly at Solo and if looks could kill, Solo was a dead man. But then Jon turned his attention to her and he smiled, the disapproval vanishing so quickly Nyssa wasn’t at all sure she saw clearly.
Solo handed her another glass. The bubbles hit her nose when she sipped and the alcohol went straight to her head. She relaxed then drank the rest of the champagne.
Before she could protest, Solo refilled the glass and led her away from the table to mingle.
So she melted into the strength of Solo’s attention; ate and drank whatever he offered her and every time she set her glass down, Solo was beside her, refilling it.
She hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty she was. She hadn’t realized the numbing effect so much alcohol would have on her, and how good she felt to be rid of all the tension she’d been under the last few days.
A few hours later, everyone prepared to leave and wished the happy couple a pleasurable night, tongue-in-cheek of course. Michael and David, the worst of the lot, each departed with a lewd, bodacious remark about Solo’s sexual prowess. All the jokes were greeted with laughter and cheers from her girl friends, and Sarah blushed much to her embarrassment while her gaze shifted to the Colonel. Solo’s grandparents prepared to leave too, with Jon not far behind.
Everyone had real lives to get back to, jobs that had been put on hold in order to celebrate a wedding. The supposedly happy couple walked the guests to the cars which were parked back on the road, not the turn off because the truck bringing all the supplies to the cabin occupied the drive.
Solo held an umbrella over Nyssa’s head. They dodged mud puddles that were all ready there and the new ones that sprung to life when they stepped on the soft ground.
She didn’t realize she’d had too much to drink until the path they walked on swayed more than she did, and she couldn’t seem to put her thoughts into words. “Thank you,” Nyssa said with great effort before she wilted back against Solo’s chest which felt too good to ignore.
Behind her, Solo held her securely around the waist. She hoped she wouldn’t make too big a fool of herself, but if she acted outrageously none of the guests noticed. Or maybe they were just as tipsy as she was.
“Well, Solo, this was great,” Michael told him and offered Solo his hand.
Jon put in his own thoughts, “Treat her right Solo or you’ll answer to me. Don’t take her for granted, she’s special.”
David, grinning from one ear to the other, grabbed Nyssa and gave her a long, hot kiss. Solo scowled at his friend. His hand went possessively to her shoulder then Solo hauled her back into his protection. “No one, absolutely no one, not even one of my friends will ever kiss her like that again.”
Jon looked at her and nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you see her in a different light, Solo. I’d hate to think that I’d have to fly north again and teach you how to be a good husband.”
Waves of genuine embarrassment swept through her at Jon’s words. He made the vows into something they weren’t and never would be, a real marriage and life forever with this man. It surprised her Solo didn’t retaliate with some snappy remark.
“Jon, please,” she said, and wished Jon would leave.
To Jon, Solo said. “Don’t worry about me, Harrington. I’m not going to hurt her.”
“See that you don’t.”
The look of approval vanished from Jon’s gaze the minute he and Solo tossed out threats. But Jon did leave and as the last car vanished out of sight, Nyssa wondered what would happen next.
Solo didn’t give her time to think. He slipped her hand inside his and walked back to the cabin. After they went inside and the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms and humming a tune, he began to dance with her.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing with my bride,” he said his lips close to her ear. “Isn’t that okay?”
She nodded and held on tight while she tried to follow along, but mostly she floated on a cloud of champagne and confusion. She didn’t think most people danced like this--with the bride groom humming, but she didn’t want to stop. She was, after all, in Solo’s arms. This was a place where she felt at home even though the seconds were ticking by. She let her herself imagine romantic fantasies with this man while she closed her eyes and danced with him.
They were alone again but now everything was different. She rested her head on Solo’s shoulder, felt his hand on her back. His presence so close to her, left her warm and secure. She wanted to snuggle in close to him and when she did, she could feel his heart beat, steady and strong.
He kissed her forehead and each cheek, his lips brushing against her skin. Then he swept her into his arms to carry her back to her bedroom. “Oh, my,” she said. “It’s just like in my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” He bent his head closer, whispering sweet enticing words next to her ear.
“Yes,” she said.
“And?”
He sounded indulgent but she couldn’t help herself, she giggled. “My fantasy turned out backwards. I rescued you.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“From your job applicants. Well, my story doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.” She sobered up real fast now that they were in the bedroom. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. One night alone with Solo, one night where they might be husband and wife.
“What doesn’t matter?” he said in a rough, strange voice.
She remembered when he used that tone a couple of times before, just before she lost all control of herself. He set her down but she didn’t want to let go. With her arms still around his neck, she pulled him with her. They tumbled together onto the bed and she realized she wanted everything he would give her in this short term m
arriage of convenience. Damn the consequences.
His full weight was on her for only a second but she loved the feel of him. Her hands rested on his shoulders and shamelessly explored him.
“Oh my.” She moved a shaky finger along his neck then upward ever closer to his lips.
“Oh my, what?” He slowly pushed away.
She didn’t like the empty feeling that swept through her when he left. “Come back.”
He looked tempted but through the haze she reeled in she wasn’t sure.
“You don’t know what you want.”
“Nonsense.”
“Nyssa, you’re tired. It’s been a long day. And I think I gave you too much champagne.”
She grinned at him and hoped he felt as good as she did. She felt so free and wild--and sexy too. That was a new feeling for her and she liked the sensation. “Kiss me.”
“I won’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning,” he said. He sat back down on the bed.
She felt the soft touch of his fingers against her cheekbones and across her lips. He looked wistful and maybe a little confused. He inhaled a long, slow deep breath while he looked away. When he turned his attention back to her, he appeared very determined and a rush of panic swept through her.
He meant to leave her.
“Wait.” She sat up so fast she dumped him on the floor. When she peered over the side of the bed and saw him sprawled there, she giggled. “You don’t want to sleep like that do you?”
“I’ll lock up the cabin and clean up a little. Now hush, I’ll be right back.”
“Promise?”
He touched her nose with a fingertip. It made her feel like a petulant child begging for attention.
“Don’t go away,” he said softly.
“Where on earth would I go?” Nyssa let her gaze linger on the closed door long after he walked through it.
He wouldn’t return. She knew it. He knew it. She adjusted the full white skirt of her gown and tossed herself on the bed.
***
Solo left with every good intention and reminded himself he must leave her alone. He knew the last place he should go was back to the bedroom. Yet she drew him, magnet-like.
Hands stuffed in the pockets of his tuxedo pants, he stood just off the porch of the cabin. The wind blew from the north, slightly cold, but tolerable. A wolf howled, one of his perhaps, and then he could hear only the breeze blowing through the eaves.
Everything from his wedding, all reminders that it had taken place were gone. The streamers, the bells, the food.
If he looked in on Nyssa, her white gown would proclaim that a wedding had indeed taken place, but he didn’t feel different.
Ripping at his tie with one hand, Solo walked farther from the cabin. He dangled the tie from his fingertips as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt with his other hand.
When he closed his eyes, he could see her as she walked out of the house. A wildflower bouquet in one hand, an uncertain smile on her face, her steps hesitant. He knew she had reservations about the wedding. Hell, so did he.
And now Nyssa lay in his bedroom in his bed, slightly intoxicated, yet she waited for him. There was nothing he’d rather do than go to her and make her his.
He didn’t want to be a gentleman. He didn’t want to be honorable or noble. But he had given her his word and she was engaged to another man. Good old Robert.
If he walked back in that room, he’d want to make her more comfortable. A good excuse, he thought lamely. He wanted to know what was under the wedding dress.
Another excuse, she shouldn’t wear that dress in bed and he’d bet she’d fallen asleep before she could take it off. So, spoken as a true gentleman, he should go help her with the gown and all those little white buttons that ran down her back.
But if he went in there, his good intentions and all the resolve in the world wouldn’t stop him from at least one kiss. And if he kissed her--he couldn’t do that, his respect for her went deeper than that.
Hell, what was the matter with him? His moral code, which until now had served him well, had scattered to the four winds.
He turned back to the house, his usual long strides short and indecisive. The four steps to the front porch loomed in front of him. A deep, long sigh at this point that was meant to give him the answers he craved, didn’t.
The creaky front door didn’t enlighten him either, nor did the short trek to her bedroom door. His first thought was to run and seek solace in the bedroom loft.
Solo St. John you are a coward.
When he peeked into the room, she was asleep. Hallelujah, his prayers had been answered. Yet instead of turning and walking away he did the exact opposite.
He strode to the bed.
For several seconds, Solo stood over her. Her hair was spread out on the pillow, her hand tucked beneath her chin. Without his help, she’d taken her dress off and now she was clad in very little. Damn little.
Solo smiled to himself. He couldn’t decide if she looked prettier now or when he’d first seen her walk down the aisle in her wedding dress, his grandmother’s gown. The significance of his thoughts stunned him. His grandmother would not accept an annulment well. Hell.
The room was warm and she’d pushed the covers off. He could see the tops of her white silk stockings and the tiny pink roses that formed a perfect border. One strap of her chemise had fallen off her shoulder and he could watch her breasts rise and fall. She had a sexy shoulder. He wanted to touch her so damn bad he could barely restrain himself.
She purred, a soft sound, seductive and with that he smoothed a lock of her beautiful hair from her face. He was so close, so tempted, so needy. This was his wedding night.
A wedding night he had no claim over. Seemingly on their own volition, his fingers traced the contour of her jaw, down the slope of her neck across the creamy swell of a perfect breast.
She purred again and Solo smiled once more. At least in her sleep she was not indifferent to his touch, to the man she married. No, if he thought back on the last few days, Nyssa had been anything but indifferent.
He pulled his hand back and rested it on her hip. She rolled onto her back. With the movement, his hand slid across her hip until his fingers lay on her stomach. Her eyes still closed, she made a sleepy sound, her hand coming to settle on his own.
“Solo?” she asked in a soft sexy voice. “Wouldn’t you like to come to bed?”
Chapter Ten
Now that was an invitation no saint, or human male could resist but he forced himself.
“Solo.” Her voice, sultry and provocative, beckoned him. “What’s taking you so long?”
What could he say? Just a minute and I’ll ruin you for your real fiancé? Just a minute and I’ll ravish you? Before he lost his courage and fell victim to the seductiveness of her voice, he removed his hand from hers and rose from the bed. Coward.
“Be right back.”
He stood in the middle of the room, sweat trickling down his back and desire pulsing through his veins. All his patience, all the willpower he possessed, vanished along with his list of good intentions.
She looked down for a brief second and stared at her hands. They were folded in her lap, fingers entwined, tense and a few seconds later they slipped apart.
He watched, entranced as her hands moved provocatively up her arms and back down. Nyssa’s eyes fixed on him, heated his body, and fired every nerve to the extreme.
Safari Moon Page 16