His Sister's Wedding

by Carol Rose

  She'd never known there were levels of consciousness. Her whole focus was on his kiss, but somehow her brain catalogued an array of incendiary sensations. The hardness of his thighs against hers, the ragged thrum of his pulse where her hand rested on his neck. He smelled of earth and man, a tangle of scents that filtered into her brain like a drug.

  Pulling her up against him more tightly, he stroked down her back, still mesmerizing her with the silken fire of his mouth and tongue. Lillie found herself squirming closer, an ache growing low in her belly.

  It was uncharted territory--this kiss--undiscovered continents of sensation, as if she'd conjured him from her own dreams.

  She felt the sweep of his hand beneath her loose shirt, up her rib cage, as he nibbled tenderly at her bottom lip. Her breath caught when he found her breast. Her brain went numb as he caressed her sensitive flesh through her bra, his thumb passing over the hard kernel of her nipple.

  She might have whimpered when he tore his mouth from hers to trail a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. It was hard to be sure of anything beyond him and the way he made her feel. There might have been other sounds, but the roar of the firestorm between them dulled her ears.

  Arching into his caress, Lillie found herself tugging at his t-shirt, slipping her hands beneath, to find his smooth, heated flesh.

  She did hear his groan when she touched him. The sound sent a sharp flash of satisfaction through her. He felt better than words, not silk or satin, just the addictive texture of luscious skin over taut muscle.

  Luke straightened then, recapturing her mouth in a driving, voracious kiss. Cupping her bottom in his hands, he lifted her up, tight against him. The heat and hardness of his desire beckoned her like a secret lure. He moved against her and Lillie felt as if the universe might shatter.

  Luke let her slide back down his body, his arms steadying her as her feet settled on the concrete. Dark clouds of desire filled his eyes. She felt she would drown in his hunger. His chest rose and fell quickly, even more rapidly now.

  For a long, tense moment, their gazes met and tangled, desire and longing heating the air. Lillie felt the hard thump of her heart, her body in sensual alert. Urgency throbbed in her.

  Need. In all the earth, only this man sent her over the edge, made her restless and desperately hungry for his touch.

  He stood before her, powerful and male, still holding her tightly enough that her breasts brushed against his muscular chest. His eyes, dark and potent, seemed to call her like a primal drum beat.

  "Lillie," he said, his voice low and rough.

  In that instant, she knew she couldn't walk away, couldn't turn from what burned between them. It felt so right. So necessary.

  Sliding her hands up over his powerful shoulders, she lifted her mouth to his. Tongues tangling, she felt him lift her, turning so that she slid back, sitting up on another stack of bales waist-high. Positioned between her spread legs, Luke held her, one firm hand at her back, the other tunneled beneath her shirt. In an instant her bra was loose.

  All the while the magic of his mouth on hers held her enthralled, heating her blood till she felt she was bursting into flames. Trailing hot, moist kisses along her neck, his hand stroked her belly and sank lower.

  Just as he bent, finding her beaded nipple beneath her shirt, his fingers brushed the apex of her thighs. Lillie moaned, moving against him, clutching at his broad shoulders like a drowning woman. Lapping and drawing at her breast, he stroked her through her snug leggings till she cried out from the ache he created in her.

  In an instant, Luke tilted her back, slipping her leggings and panties off with the ease of a magician. She sat on the bales, her bare legs dangling, dazed and shivering with need as he thrust down his jeans.

  His erection sprang free, as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and took out a packet. Holding it up so she could see the condom, Luke's eyes glittered, hard and fierce with intent.

  Sheathed, he came to her, bending to take her mouth again, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples till she moaned.

  Standing between her legs, Luke eased into her, urging her forward with a hand at the small of her back. She felt the heat and hardness of him, the joining of their flesh.

  Like an explorer claiming his own, he pushed into her dampness. Capturing Lillie's cry of pleasure in another torrid kiss, he began to move against her.

  She clung to him, lost in the sorcery of his body in hers, the thrusting of flesh against flesh. He drove into her over and over, his hands bracketing her hips. Each shift of tempo had its own bliss.

  Lillie's head rolled back as wave after wave sent her closer to ecstasy. Nothing on earth ever felt this good. Her hands clenched on his shoulders, she lost herself in the rhythmic pumping of his body into hers. His slow, hard thrusts pushing her higher and higher.

  The harsh sound of his breathing, the shattering pleasure of their coupling. Every sensation joined into one blazing, vivid moment.

  Crying out, she felt herself splinter into a thousand pieces, hearing Luke's hoarse cry of exultation in the next instant.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Luke woke slowly, conscious of the filtered morning light teasing at his eyelids. Resisting wakefulness, he ducked his head against the pillow, burying his face in Lillie's curls.

  God, she smelled good. Warm and sexy. Womanly.

  His senses slowly coming alert, memory sprang into his mind. Lillie teasing him at the office the day before. Their wild, laughing chase. That first hot kiss, the sudden roaring hunger that sprang up between them like wild fire.

  He'd taken her against a stack of peat moss. Right there in his storage area, gripped in the heat of an uncontrolled lust. What a way to win a woman's favor. Vertical sex in a semi-public place. And he probably hadn't lasted long, either.

  Not that she'd seemed to mind.

  Next to him, Lillie murmured in her sleep, turning her head to snuggle into his pillow.

  Luke rolled onto his back careful not to disturb the beauty beside him.

  Glancing over at her, he found himself studying the perfection of her profile, peaceful and serene in sleep. She was so many women, all rolled up into a delectable package. One moment indignant and righteous, the next instant panting and crying his name as he plunged into her hot, welcoming body.

  She had started it the second time they'd made love. Hell, they hadn't even gotten out of his office. But, at least, that time he'd locked the doors and closed the blinds before giving into her very effective seduction. He'd owed her some kind of protection. And the last thing he'd wanted was one of his workers to come bursting in on them without warning.

  He'd never again look at his desk without remembering her splayed across the top of it, all long, slender legs and beautiful breasts. Within a matter of minutes, they'd both been as naked as blue jays.

  That time had been longer, he thought with satisfaction, remembering her cries of pleasure as she lie back on the paper-strewn surface.

  Luke turned toward her, his gaze sliding over her bare shoulder and rosy-tipped breast. She was perfect. Beautiful in a real living, breathing way that no pin-up could match.

  Reaching out, he softly stroked her arm, careful not to wake her. She felt delicious beneath his fingers, the smooth slide of her skin an indescribable pleasure.

  Something about Lillie made him feel bigger and better. Stronger, somehow. He felt it lying here next to her now. Luke chuckled to himself. She certainly brought out the beast in him. Never before--not even in his college years--had he made love to a woman three times in an hour.

  Oh, that last time. Long and slow. So sweet the memory made him bend now to brush a kiss along her shoulder. If the other times had been all fire and heat and total lust, the last time had been the best. Long and so good. Here beneath her white eyelet canopy, lost in a welter of pillows and lace, Lillie cried out his name in the throes of her peak.

  Never before had he been distracted from his own passion
to watch a lover's ecstasy. Her total and complete submission to the moment between them had driven him wild.

  Reaching out now, Luke gathered her closer to him, loving her sleepy, incoherent murmur, the instant way her body molded to his. He just wanted to hold her, to cement the magic somehow.

  Life killed these moments so effectively. He'd never figured out how to hold on to this piercing, throat-clogging sense of well-being.

  Hell, he'd never actually ever felt this good before. It made him want to lock the door and stay like this with her forever. Lillie, naked in his arms, the beautiful, warm woman-smell of her filling his lungs.

  He'd known it would be great between them. Known the sparks they raised signaled a terrific compatibility. This kind of thing didn't come along everyday.

  Lillie stirred in his arms, her sleepy blue eyes unfocused as she looked up at him.

  "Good morning," he said, his voice husky as he bent to brush a kiss against her cheek.

  She smiled at him, a deeply satisfied glow lighting up her face.

  Luke felt his gut tighten with a wave of tenderness. And relief. She didn't have regrets, apparently. She wasn't going to rise up like a wrathful goddess of Valentines past and demand that he leave her sanctuary immediately.

  It was going to be okay.

  "I'm starving," Lillie said in a sleepy voice. "I don't suppose you cook?"

  * * *

  How could he not realize he loved her?

  Lillie sat wrapped in nothing but her chenille robe, watching Luke destroy her kitchen.

  But the man was actually cooking her breakfast, much to her shock. Standing there, whistling to himself, making her eggs. She wasn't going to complain if he splattered grease on the stove top, left egg shells in the sink and spilled orange juice on the floor.

  Sipping the small glass of juice, she smiled in response when he threw a grin over his shoulder.

  His bare shoulder.

  He went back to whistling.

  Luke at this moment was a sight to gladden any woman's heart, she reflected. Wearing nothing but boxers, an apron and a sexy stubble on his handsome face, he looked like a fantasy come true. Her fantasy, anyway. Her love.

  She'd never actually expected him to take her seriously when she'd asked him about breakfast. How many men would? Even after a night like they'd just shared.

  "Is the juice okay?" he asked, wielding the spatula with a flair that obviously owed little to practice.

  "It's great," she responded, taking another sip.

  "I wasn't sure how many cans of water to add," he commented, his attention still on the skillet of eggs.

  Lillie hid a smile. It said how much water to add right there on the side of the frozen can of juice, but that would mean reading directions. And, despite his "Kiss the Cook" apron, Luke was too much of a man to actually look for directions.

  In a flash of remembered heat, Lillie acknowledged to herself that Luke was more a man than she'd realized before.

  Of course, she'd never doubted his masculinity. No woman could. But now she knew all that driving virility and passion came mixed with a consideration and tenderness that still left her feeling breathless. And very, very warm.

  Her testosterone-laden, romance-hating lover made love with a fierce, passionate intensity, a vulnerable soul-grabbing totality that left her stunned.

  She loved him completely.

  Probably had loved him since the first few days. All this time, she'd felt both drawn to him and fearful of giving him a hold on her heart. She'd tried to fight his pull...and failed.

  Yes, he still didn't want his sister to marry her brother. He hadn't renounced his cynicism, nor had he promised her undying devotion.

  But she loved him with an intensity that kept hope burning in her like a bonfire. Everything she had was his. All of her, body and soul. Last night, she'd turned a corner and there was no going back. She didn't even want to.

  Their night together had proved Luke had it in him to be the man she needed. How could he think himself immune to love? All that talk of his, the adamant denunciations of romance. His refusal to admit to that sweetest of vulnerabilities. Even his rejection of his mother and his denial of Melanie and Scott's devotion. It was all just a way to try and shield his wounded heart.

  He'd loved before and been hurt in the most terrible way. First by his own mother who had put her interests before her childrens' and then by the first girl he'd allowed himself to care about.

  Luke had a right to his battered, wary heart. He'd earned it the old-fashioned way. But Lillie loved him and she wasn't giving him up for anything.

  Somehow, she'd find a way to make him trust his heart again.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Lillie hitched up her paint-splattered overalls while Luke shut the bathroom door, closing the two of them in the small space. He got out his measuring tape.

  "You're sure you want to spend your Saturday like this?" He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "Because I know guys who do this sort of thing for a living. We can just give one of them a call."

  Lillie giggled. "I'm so glad you're helping me with this. I've always pictured this bathroom with wallpaper."

  "Don't sound so excited," he admonished, stepping around the toilet to measure again. "This place is like a closet."

  "It was a closet originally," she said, letting a roll of wallpaper uncoil. "But a large closet."

  "Don't do that in here. First, we measure, then we cut and the cutting can be done out in the living room."

  "I was just seeing how it looked," she said mildly, scooting to her right as he brushed past her, the now-familiar scent of him filtering up to her.

  From her perspective, the last two weeks had been a kind of heaven, mixed with a nagging uncertainty. On the one hand, they spent a lot of time together making love and talking about inconsequential things. On the other hand, she hadn't been able to tell just how aware Luke was of his feelings for her.

  She knew he loved her, but did he know?

  "Cut me a seventy-two inch strip," Luke directed. "Remember to start at the little blue flower. It repeats through the pattern. I'll get the pan set up to wet the strip. We can put it in the bathtub."

  "Okay." Slipping out of the tiny bathroom, she let the floral wallpaper unroll and set about measuring it.

  For all his lack of wallpaper enthusiasm, Luke had actually volunteered to help her with the project. She'd been surprised, but she shouldn't have been. From the night they first made love, Luke had been nothing but a loving partner.

  He'd been thoughtful in a hundred ways, making her tea in the morning, calling her in the middle of the day for no reason. Coming home to her bed every night.

  He was also a very generous lover.

  Lillie sighed.

  But if she discounted the mutterings in the heat of passion, he'd said nothing to her that couldn't be said to a friend. To her disgust, she found herself longing for those sweet words in the daylight hours when they both had their clothes on.

  Rolling up the strip of wallpaper, she slipped back into the bathroom. "Here."

  "Thanks." He bent over the tub. "Now we drop this into the pan, keeping it rolled loosely. There. And now all we have to do is put it on the wall. Keeping it perfectly straight."

  Lillie scooted back, out of his way. "So, how's the proposal for Unicom coming?"

  He carefully positioned the wallpaper. "The proposal itself is all done. I just have to get an appointment with the Vice President of Unicom."

  "Have you called and talked with him?"

  Luke shot her a sardonic glance over his shoulder. "You mean in person? No. But his secretary and I are becoming good friends."

  A foolish streak of jealousy shot through Lillie, but she quickly squelched it. "That's a good plan. I've always thought secretaries are powerful in ways most people don't realize."

  "Maybe so," he said as he ran a sponge over the strip of wallpaper, "but Thelma hasn't been any too eager to use her power for my good."
>
  "Thelma?" Lillie echoed, laughing.

  "Yes, a very efficient woman from what I can tell." Luke took the measuring tape off his belt and began measuring the second strip. "I'm hoping she'll come to love me like a son, but it'll have to be soon. I have to get the appointment in the next month."

  Lillie sat on the edge of the tub, watching the play and flex of his muscles under his shirt. "It's really important to get this account?"

  "Yes," he agreed immediately. "It would be a tremendous expansion of the business."

  "And that's what you want?" she asked, probing to understand him better. "I mean, you're hoping to expand the business quite a bit?"

  "Of course," he said, shooting her a surprised grin. "Isn't that what you want for your business?"

  "Not really," Lillie responded slowly. "I don't envision franchises or anything. I just want to do what I enjoy and make a decent living at it."

  "I guess that's in the nature of your business," he commented. "Wedding consulting is more of a personal service field. But the landscaping business is wide open for an ambitious guy. Particularly commercial accounts."

  "So major business success is one of your goals in life," she said, trying to assimilate the different sides of his personality. Strong family loyalty, if she didn't count his mother, and a drive to succeed in his chosen field.

  Straight forward aims and ambitions, neither of which held any murky emotional depths. But she knew the depths were there, all the same.

  Luke let the measuring tape recoil into its case. "That's me. Determined to make a million. Here, cut me a strip that's seventy-two and a half inches."

  Cutting the wallpaper, she wondered about the woman who'd almost married Luke. What had she looked like and why had she left him?

  Lillie was convinced that if she could understand how the women in his past had bruised Luke's heart, she'd be able to set him free to love again. His mother's part in it seemed obvious enough and had probably done most of the damage. But the fiancée was another story. She was the grown-up evidence Luke must have used to convince himself that love didn't exist.