Desmond reached out and clasped her hand. "Nervous?"
"A little." She gave a shaky laugh. "I thought it was the groom who was supposed to get cold feet."
"I planned ahead and wore thermal socks."
"Oh, you— " She chuckled with real humor, and playfully swatted at his arm.
He pulled off the highway, and onto Tropicana Boulevard. Rebecca leaned forward in her seat and scanned the darkened streets.
"I thought there'd be more lights."
"Don't worry. There will be." A quick left and a right looped them around the airport, bringing them out almost at the end of Las Vegas Boulevard. Before them stretched a shimmering vista of rainbow hued light.
"Look! It's a pyramid! And a castle!" Rebecca leaned past him to gawk, then spun to look out her window with a giggle. "A Polynesian village. Oh, look at that gate, made out of light. It's beautiful! Is that another pyramid?"
He kept silent, letting her enjoy her first sight of the hotels and casinos. He'd been here twice before, and each time it seemed to get larger, louder and brighter. After a lifetime spent trying to avoid notice, such blatant plays for attention made him uncomfortable. But he had to agree, in its own way, the city was truly amazing.
"It's a lion!" Rebecca laughed and squeezed his arm. "What's next?"
"What's next is a traffic jam," he muttered.
After spending fifteen minutes watching the same ads scroll by in foot high letters on ten-foot tall screens, the city's lights no longer seemed so glamorous. In fact, Desmond and Rebecca made a game out of finding the missing light bulbs in the signs, with Desmond looking for missing red bulbs and Rebecca looking for blue ones. Green bulbs counted for either one of them.
"Finally," he sighed, turning across traffic into the hotel's driveway. The backlit Roman statues and lighted water fountain would have been garish in any other surroundings. Here, it seemed tasteful and subdued.
He helped Rebecca out of the car, while a bellman emptied the trunk and an eager looking valet held out his hand for the keys. The fresh-faced boy looked out of place, as if a Mormon native of Utah had migrated southwest for the winter and had been unable to complete his return trip in the spring. Desmond handed him the keys wrapped in a ten dollar tip.
The bellman advanced on them with a smile. "Welcome to Las Vegas. Are you here to get married?"
"Yes," Rebecca answered. "How'd you know?"
"You had that look about you. When's the happy occasion?"
"Two o'clock in the morning," Desmond told him, nudging Rebecca toward the door. "We really need to get checked in."
"Congratulations! If there's anything you need, you just call down to the front desk. Or I can bring it up to your room with your luggage." The man's grin widened.
"Actually," Rebecca said, "we need to find a jewelry store that's open."
"You're in luck! Our Forum Shops stay open until eleven o'clock, and we have some wonderful jewelers. If you'd like, I can point them out to you on the map."
"Thank you. That won't be necessary." Desmond pulled Rebecca through the doors into the blinking, flashing, clanging foyer. Slot machines jangled their happy melodies and poured change into steel buckets, all the while advertising their wares in colors as bright as they'd seen on the Strip. The registration area off to the side was slightly more subdued, but the cling and clang of winning spins provided a constant background accompaniment.
"Welcome to Caesar's Palace. May I help you?"
"We're checking in. The name is Lacroix." Desmond placed his credit card on the marble counter.
"That says Prescott Institute," Rebecca whispered.
"It's a corporate card. I don't have a personal one."
She nodded to herself. It was almost as if he'd just confirmed something for her, but he didn't know what. Why would she care about his credit cards? Of course. Not his credit cards, his credit.
He grinned. "You little minx. You tried to run a credit check on me before you came out here, didn't you?"
"You can't blame a girl for being careful," she tossed back.
The clerk shuffled slowly through a pile of papers. When Desmond and Rebecca didn't say anything else scintillating, the woman handed them a hotel folder.
"These are your room keys. Instructions are on the back." She slid one of the plastic cards out of the folder and flipped it over, then tapped the circled number on the folder. "This is your room number. Memorize it, don't write it on the card or on a piece of paper you carry with the card. Your room is in the Olympic Tower, straight through the casino. You see the Emperor's Club booth? Head for that. The elevators will be on your left. The bellman will bring your luggage up."
"Thank you," they chorused. Sharing a laugh, Desmond wrapped his arm around Rebecca, and she nestled close against his side. Her thoughts curled just as closely against his, in a tumult of anticipation, proving how deeply she trusted him by lowering her mental barriers. He snatched the packet off the desk and hurried her toward the elevator. He wanted to drop his own shields and melt into her. But they needed to reach the room to merge together properly.
He stopped, halfway across the casino, chilled by his near lapse of judgment. Surrounded by blinking, beeping, clanging distractions, he couldn't see the walls, let alone look for the sundries shop he knew must be somewhere in this lobby.
"Hon? Is something wrong?" Rebecca asked, leaning close to be heard over the din.
"No. I'm just looking for the gift shop." He started walking toward the elevators again. Once they got out of the casino, they could skirt the edges until they found it.
"The gift shop?"
"Mm-hmm." They exited the casino, into a quieter area of shops and restaurants, and he pulled her aside. "Gillian's more than enough to handle. I don't really want another child right now. Do you?"
Rebecca's blush scalded her cheeks, paling to an adorable soft pink by her ears. "I, uh, hadn't thought about it. But, yeah. You're right. We should, um, do something about that."
"Why, Rebecca," he teased. "I never would have thought someone with your voracious sexual appetite would be a prude."
"I'm not! I'm just— " Realizing he was teasing her, she frowned and tugged him toward the elevators. "We can stop at any late night drug store for that. We need to get our luggage, then go out and buy the rings before the jewelry stores close."
He sighed melodramatically, but followed readily. "Dear heart, sometimes you can be too practical for your own good."
THEY ARRIVED at their room before the bellman. Opening the door, Desmond's gaze was immediately drawn to the huge king size bed dominating the room. Bright neon colors played across the spread, shining through the window from the displays on the Strip. Rebecca strolled over to the window and stared out.
"Oh, look. It's like a giant riverboat paddling down the street. Come see."
He joined her at the window, but his attention was on the draperies. The sheer gauze privacy curtain wouldn't shield any sunlight to speak of. The thicker, primary curtain might block most of it. But it was alarmingly thin compared to the reassuring blackness of his tinted windows back home.
"Will the neon light come in, even with the drapes drawn, do you suppose?" he asked her. Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the privacy curtain closed on his side of the window, then fumbled for the cords to draw the drapes.
She pulled her side of the sheer curtain closed, and stepped out of the way of the drapes. "Not much on scenery, are you?"
"I'm sorry." He opened the drapes again, and parted the curtains. "What was it you wanted to show me?"
"There. The big boat."
A knock on the door saved him from having to answer.
"That must be the bellman. I'll get it."
The man unloaded their bags, and Desmond hastened him out with a generous tip. They could settle in later. They needed to get to the jewelry store before it closed.
Desmond and Rebecca took the elevator back down to the lobby. Turning in the other direction, they walked th
rough a different casino to reach the Forum Shops. They stepped through the archway separating the two areas, and it was like stepping into another world.
The marble paving stones beneath their feet lasted only as long as the gold-plated, marble-fronted slot machines. Then the ceiling lifted, painted midnight black and shining with tiny Christmas-light stars. The storefronts became two or even three stories tall, with elaborate frescoes and statues on their roofs, and the floor changed to a cobblestone street with raised stone sidewalks. They came out on the village square, in the center of which sat an elaborate fountain depicting plunging horses, cavorting sea creatures, and a selection of Roman gods.
Desmond stepped closer, amazed at the detail and lifelike nature of the statues. They must have paid a fortune to get such skilled sculptors. Not to mention the sheer cost of all this marble. He ran his hand over the hoof of one of the horses.
"It's Plexiglas."
"Of course it is," Rebecca answered over her shoulder, heading around the fountain for the jewelry store. "What did you expect? This is Las Vegas. Everything's an illusion."
"I should have expected it. But I've never been inside Caesar's before. With all the marble on the floor and walls, it was an honest mistake."
She chuckled. "Uh-huh. And I've got a bridge I can sell you...."
He caught up with her, and they entered the jewelry store together. The only customers in the store, they had the salesman's full attention.
"We'd like to buy a set of wedding rings, please," Rebecca told him.
"Gold, nothing too fancy, but more than just a plain band," Desmond clarified.
"Of course. If you'd please take a seat, I'll bring out our selection. I'm sure you'll find just what you're looking for."
After a minimum of debate, they selected rings with an ivy vine etched on them. The salesman wrapped the rings, congratulated Desmond and Rebecca on their upcoming wedding, and put a significant dent in the corporate card's credit line.
"You don't have cheap tastes, do you?" Desmond asked as they headed for the door.
"Of course not. I chose you, didn't I?"
He couldn't help but laugh. How could he argue with that line of reasoning? "Why do I even bother trying?"
"Beats me." She grinned. "You know you're never going to win."
They stepped out into the plaza. It seemed lighter than before, brighter. Desmond cast a reflexive glance upward, then stared, unable to believe what he saw. The stars had faded, and the midnight black sky had been replaced by pre-dawn gray.
Oh, God. They'd been in the jewelry store far longer than he'd thought. It was almost dawn. He had to get back inside.
He lengthened his strides, pulling Rebecca along with him.
"Hey! Where's the fire?"
Her words acted like a tonic, snapping him out of his knee-jerk panic. He was already inside. The sky above him was an illusion. But what an illusion!
He stopped, so suddenly she ran into him, and turned to face the east. The first tender fingers of rosy pink were stretching out, tinting the gray sky around them a soft baby blue. Was that really what it looked like? It had been so long since he'd seen a sunrise.
He felt the warmth of Rebecca's presence beside him, and pulled her close. He wanted her to share this beautiful sunrise with him.
"Desmond?" she whispered. "Hon? You're crushing my hand."
He loosed his grip on her fingers, and whispered back, "Isn't it amazing?"
A golden glow edged the buildings, sliding up into the sky. The rays of sunlight slid from pink, to peach, to orange, to gold, and the sky deepened from a cold pale blue to a brilliant robin's egg blue. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the sky, blocking the sun from his sight. But he could see the light, burning, lighting the entire sky.
Rebecca tugged on his hand, and he forced his gaze away from the beautiful sunny sky. Her gray eyes were dark in her pale face.
"What is it? You're frightening me."
"Wasn't that sunrise beautiful?"
"It's just a trick. Special effects. Lights and mirrors." She reached up and touched his cheek. "My God, are you crying?"
"No, of course not." He blinked, and struggled to get his feelings under control. Normal human beings didn't react this way. "I was staring at the light for too long."
"Yeah, I noticed." She tilted her head and studied him, not quite mollified. "But why were you staring at it?"
"I'd never seen anything like it before."
"Oh." She chuckled, and turned the same soft rose as the sunrise. "You just seemed so blasé about the other sights of the city. I forgot you've seen them before."
He returned her smile, even though he didn't feel like smiling. A cold knot of fear was growing in his stomach. When he'd seen the sunrise, he'd been inspired. She was so close to him, almost a part of him, that he'd instinctively tried to share the experience with her. Thank God her mental shields had been up.
Without that mental communion, she hadn't understood the meaning behind his comments. Which was a relief. If she had, it all might have been over. If she found out what he was before they were married, she might run back to New York and leave him forever.
No, he had to keep his secret hidden. He couldn't tell her until he was sure the knowledge wouldn't drive her away from him. He only hoped the day would come when he could tell her. And that the day did not come too late.
Chapter 15
REBECCA KNEW she'd remember this moment forever. Desmond, handsome as the devil in a black tuxedo, framed against a backdrop of scarlet and pink lilies and the delicate white wedding bells of lilies-of-the-valley, taking her hand in his strong, warm fingers. Sliding the cold metal of the ring onto her finger, and clasping his hand around hers until the gold heated beneath his touch. Staring deep into her eyes as he intoned his vow.
"With this ring, I pledge my love to you. I will honor and cherish you, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. We shall be as one, all the days of our lives."
The minister turned to her, and prompted, "Miss Morgan?"
She was drowning in the emerald sea of Desmond's eyes, sparkling jewels that shone with his love for her. She could lose herself in those eyes, drown and never come back up for air. And she wouldn't mind in the least. United, heart and soul, for eternity.
The minister coughed, and Desmond gave her fingers a quick squeeze. She blinked, and felt a hot flush cover her cheeks. Taking the ring from the minister, she lifted Desmond's hand. Following the minister's prompting, she repeated the vow.
"With this ring, I pledge my love to you. I will honor and cherish you, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. We shall be as one, all the days of our lives."
The gold band slid on smoothly, nestling at the base of his finger. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, needing to feel the ring's solid weight. It was real. They were married.
The minister continued speaking, but she ignored him, watching Desmond. The rosy light from the stained glass panel gilded his features, highlighting the rich fullness of his lips. Lips which smiled, and parted, as he bent his head toward her. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to his and received his lips in a kiss that was as much promise as offering.
He pulled back, smiling down at her. She smiled back, deliriously happy. Everything was perfect.
"Congratulations," the minister interrupted. She smiled at him, too. She'd smile at the whole world, but the chapel held only the witnesses needed to make the ceremony legal. So she smiled at them.
"Thank you," Desmond answered, his voice soft and husky. Their wedding had affected him as deeply as it had her.
He released her hand long enough to shake hands with the minister, and receive the payment envelope. While Desmond filled the envelope, the minister shook her hand, too, and kissed her cheek. Then Desmond was leading her down the aisle, between the ribbon-festooned benches, and out to the car.
He kissed her again before settling her into her
seat, and again before starting the ignition. They stopped at the light by the mall, and he took the opportunity for a long, lingering kiss that left her breathless. Sliding his hand up her new white stockings, he pushed aside the layered white chiffon skirt of the dress they'd bought just a few hours ago. The heat of his hand burned her thigh, sending a flash fire skittering across her skin. He pulled his hand back to shift the car, and his absence chilled her like a January midnight. Then he was back, sliding his palm even higher, cupping her in heat and touching off a firestorm of need.
She shifted in her seat, pressing against him. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost." He sounded as breathless as she did.
He jerked the wheel, making a one-handed turn that got them into the hotel's driveway, but almost clipped one of the fir trees pillaring the drive. Slamming on the brake, he threw the car out of gear as soon as it stopped. He cut the ignition, opened the door, and was helping her out of the car before the valet had closed half the distance to their car. They abandoned it, trusting that the valet would know what to do with it, and hurried through the hotel doors.
The clinking and blinking machines sounded like an angelic choir, come to serenade them on their special day. Holding hands, they hurried to the elevators, not quite breaking into a run. When the elevator came, Desmond took advantage of their privacy to lean her against the mirrored wall and kiss her senseless.
The elevator chimed. Desmond stepped away, leaving her dazed with passion. She had a brief vision of how she must appear to him, her gray eyes glittering with desire beneath half-closed lids, her lips swollen and dark red from the force of their kisses. His strong fingers twisted in the silk of her hair, pulling her closer, and then the doors slid open.
They ran from the elevator, pelting down the hall to their room. Desmond fumbled to work the lock as she wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed herself against him.
"Hurry," she whispered, her breath steaming against his ear. She slid her hands lower, and felt his trembling reaction to her touch.
The door opened and they fell inside, stumbling toward the bed. She unzipped her dress and pulled it over her head, and he pulled off his topcoat, tie and cummerbund. He unbuttoned his shirt, while she stripped off her slip. She reached for her bra strap just as he unbuttoned his pants. Then they stopped. And looked at each other.
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