11th Hour Rose

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11th Hour Rose Page 16

by Melissa Lynne Blue


  Alone at last, he turned his attention to Lilly. “Come here.” He hoisted himself up and crossed to where she reclined on the wooden bench that reminded him of a church pew. He sank down beside her and gathered her in his arms. “Have I told you today, that I love you?”

  “Oh, Davy…” She sniffed and crawled across his lap, hiding her face in the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms snuggly around him.

  “What is this?” he asked gently curling a thick chunk of her hair around his finger, smoothing it between his fingers. “Tears? Lilly, there is no need to cry. Brady can never harm you again.”

  “I-it’s not that.” She drew a shuddering breath, tilting her head back to gaze up at him with glistening eyes. “I finally understand.”

  Confused, Davy gave his head a slight shake. “Understand what exactly?”

  “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve wanted to keep me, and everyone you love, boxed up in a safe little cage. All this while I believed you an overbearing brute. But tonight, when Brady shot you, I knew that fear. I wanted to send you far away to some hidden place where Brady could never hurt you. I would have given anything to take your place and take away your pain.” Tears poured down her face as she gently threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape, sending sweet tingles along his spine. “I love you, Davy.”

  Beyond words he hugged her nearer, holding her as she sobbed, feeling closer to her than he ever had anyone before. Such a gem she was. They shared so much in common, and they understood and challenged each other in equal measure. He was indeed blessed.

  After a while Lilly grew quiet and Davy relished the feel of her fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. For the moment he was content simply to hold her. His lips brushed her hair, and he caught the scent of baked apples floating around her red-gold tresses.

  He grinned. “You always smell of baked apples.”

  She giggled. “I do not.”

  “You do.” He sighed. “Much as I love to hold you this way, it has been a long night, and I think you’ll feel much better after a good night’s rest.”

  Lilly shifted and scooted off his lap. “Walk with me?” She fixed him with a sweet, sultry gaze and held to his hand in a manner that indicated she wasn’t really asking.

  “Of course.” In one swift motion he stood, scooping her up into his arms. He winced as the sutures pulled.

  “Oh!” She cried out in surprise and laughed, clamping her arms about his shoulders for balance. “Davy, your arm,” she protested as he strode through the kitchen door.

  “Only a flesh wound. You heard Marissa, I was very lucky tonight.”

  For half a second Lilly stiffened and then relaxed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Very well then. I could get used to this.”

  “Good.” He turned and brushed a quick kiss across her lips. “I’ll carry you up to bed.”

  He mounted the stairs and she directed him to the room she’d been using. “Your destination, my lady.” He slid the arm from beneath her knees and lowered her gently to the floor, letting her slide down the length of his body. “Sleep well, love.” He tipped her chin and took her lips in deep goodnight kiss.

  He stepped back to leave, but she caught his hand. “Stay,” she murmured, meeting his gaze with big, beautiful, sultry eyes.

  He gulped, heat and desire purging any pain or exhaustion from his body. “Lilly,” he rasped, holding firmly to his self-control. “Now is not the time. After everything you’ve been through tonight…”

  “Now is the perfect time.” She clasped his hand, tugging him through the door. Her head cocked in a manner so seductive his heart nearly stopped. And those big blue eyes were so difficult to ignore.

  “Lilly,” he murmured, resisting the overpowering urge to glance at the bed. “Wait. I… you…” Coherent thought escaped him as she closed the distance between them, sliding a hand around the back of his neck drawing him to her. Her parted lips met his and she pulled him deeper into her room.

  “Why wait, Davy? We are to be married.” Her long lashes fluttered as she leaned up to brush his lips again. Her fingers lingered seductively at the buttons of his shirt. She tilted her head back, piercing him with her intelligent, all seeing eyes. “Are you afraid to be close to me, David?”

  11th Hour Rose

  Seventeen

  Davy gazed into her huge diamond eyes, unable to deny the glimmer of truth behind her question.

  Lilly stood ready and willing before him. The red-gold tresses he found so fascinating tumbled half-hazard from their pins, framing her face and shoulders in glorious disarray. Her bodice lay torn and crooked with the top two buttons missing, revealing the milky smooth skin tapering into the swell of her bosom. She was beautiful, perfect, and completely his.

  “I was,” he replied honestly. But not anymore. Acting on instinct he shut the door behind them. “For the longest time I’ve been terrified of being left alone again.” The eerie dream he’d had of Lilly lying in a coffin drifted through his mind. “That is why I withdrew from you once before.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Lilly’s lids fluttered in response to his touch. “I’ve come to realize it’s all beyond my control. Tonight taught me that.” He circled her waist with his hands, pulling her to him, drinking in her warmth. “One day with you could fill a lifetime. One memory. One night. It is enough, Lilly. You are enough.”

  Moonlight flowed silvery and luminescent through the large window, illuminating Lilly in stunning relief. His heart hammered in anticipation and blood rushed hot and ready through his veins. He felt as green and innocent as a young boy, but it all felt so right.

  For once Lilly fell utterly speechless, searching his face with eyes glittering like prisms. Her lips parted gently and she sighed, the moist heat of her breath rolling over his mouth. She laced her fingers through his hair, pressing her body the full length of his. She pulled him in for a long kiss, an exploration of his mouth… of his love… their very future together…

  Davy gave her everything. His essence, even his soul. And she offered all of herself in return.

  Lilly broke the kiss, and took both his hands in hers, backing toward the bed.

  “Have you been with a man before?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the mattress, smoothing his palms down her hips, urging her to stand between his legs.

  She gave a little shrug and pulled the pins from her hair, allowing it to spill enticingly down her shoulders. “Once. Before the war. With Daniel.”

  He simply nodded, understanding, and tugged what remained of his shirt over his head. He scarcely noticed the pain in his arm. Hungry for Lilly, and no other, he shifted his attention to the fastenings of her gown.

  * * *

  No judgment lived in Davy’s gaze. Lilly hadn’t expected any, but all the same she’d never confessed the loss of her innocence to anyone. She felt no guilt over the fact she wasn’t a virgin, but the man who would be her husband should know the truth.

  Naught but love and desire shown in his eyes. Her love for him deepened.

  His nimble fingers danced over the clasps of her dress. Soon the simple gown and chemise slid from Lilly’s shoulders, and she shivered in sensual delight as Davy’s big, calloused hands skimmed down her arms. Heat flared in his striking blue eyes as he leaned in to take the aching tip of her breast in his mouth.

  She gasped and tossed her head back, sensual pleasure coursing through her. She grasped thick chunks of his hair in her hands. Slick and wet, his tongue stroked the sensitive flesh of her nipple, driving her to mindless madness. “Oh, yes,” she moaned, hugging him to her.

  In response he groaned, curling muscular arms around her. His mouth broke from her breast and he lifted her up, her gown slipping easily to the floor. Davy settled her back against the smooth, cool bed quilt.

  He lowered himself down, and she cradled him with her thighs. Together—as one—they sank into the bedding. “Lilly,” he rasped, voice deep and husky. His tenor resonated in every crevice of her
being, pure music to her lonely soul.

  “More, Davy,” she begged. “Please. I want you.” Never had she felt so close to another human being. It seemed her pounding heart beat in perfect accord with his thrumming pulse.

  “You’re trembling.” He rose up over her, running his fingers through the length of her hair spilled across the coverlet.

  “I know. I can’t stop it.” Restlessly she ground her hips against his still clothed hips. She was certain even her insides quivered beneath his touch. She ran her hands up his back, memorizing every rippling, work hardened swell. She was not totally innocent to men and love making, but he appeared to be more man than she’d ever imagined. Even so, she did not feel shy. Instead, she craved more and dropped her hands to his trouser fastenings.

  Davy groaned, instantly rolling to the side, granting better access to the buttons. She quickly freed him and slid her hands along the velvet length of his erection. Excitement pooled in her belly. He was huge. Not that she’d expected anything less being as he was a variable giant. Any worries of his fitting inside her vanished as his fingers danced into her most intimate folds.

  “Oh, my god, Lilly.” He shuddered and rolled to his back. She reached for him, wanting nothing more than to give him the same pleasure he gave her, but he blocked her hands. “Hold but a moment,” he said huskily, stripping his trousers away.

  Completely and gloriously naked, he rolled on top of her, claiming her lips in an erotic, wet, delicious kiss. She never wanted it to end. His bare flesh stretched atop hers, heated and smooth and perfectly muscled. He was beautiful. She was hot for him everywhere.

  Pale moonlight highlighted the handsome angles of his face, illuminating the brilliance of his sapphire eyes. “Are you ready, Lilly?” His muscles clenched and leaped beneath her fingers. His rigid erection pressed against her most intimate place, begging for entrance.

  She sucked in a deep breath and held it, opening to him completely. Totally.

  In a long smooth motion he slipped inside her, the sensation unlike anything she’d ever known. He filled her wholly and she trembled beneath him, craving more. He moved above her. Kissing her… loving her… touching her with every immaculate stroke. His heat fused her and she moved with him, urging him on, striving to reach that one perfect place as one… together.

  Lilly was not to be disappointed. As she reached that magical point she sensed Davy losing control, pushing her harder, faster. Just as she tipped over the edge of perfection, he went rigid and together they peaked, spilling pleasure into one another. In his arms she floated somewhere between heaven and ecstasy, wishing to be forever lost.

  Davy fell limp over her and Lilly sighed thoroughly contented. “That was perfect,” she whispered languidly.

  “You have no idea.” He rolled to his back, pulling her into his arms. “No idea.”

  “Davy,” she whispered, raising up on an elbow. The length of her strawberry blond hair spilled over his bronzed chest.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I’m not fragile,” she said. “I’ll never leave you.”

  “I believe you.” He gathered her close and kissed her brow.

  Lilly cuddled into his side, draping a leg over his thigh, and settling her palm in the center of his chest. A contented smile tugged at her lips as she drifted to sleep with the steady beat of his heart drumming in her ears.

  * * *

  “I hate weddings,” Davy grumbled, crossing his arms, and leaning miserably against a pillar in the Highlands plantation house where he’d grown up. The plantation had survived the War of Northern Aggression largely intact and still operational. His grandmother, father, and step-mother had insisted the wedding and reception be held there. Needless to say Davy had been far too busy to argue.

  The last two weeks had been a whirlwind. A circuit judge had arrived within two days of Brady’s arrest, and Brady was promptly sentenced to hang. George, Davy, Lilly, Jason Donovan, and Carl Potter had been present for the sentencing, and the hanging.

  Davy glared about the lavishly decorated ballroom, wishing the damned party would end. He’d scarcely seen Lilly since they’d spoken their vows, and he had something for her. He caught a glimpse of her, a vision in white lace, dancing with her father. Davy’s impatience softened. He and Lilly were leaving Charleston the day after tomorrow. He could spare her to family and well-wishers for a few hours.

  His grandmother, Ginny Langston, approached, blue eyes twinkling. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Congratulations, Davy. It was so nice to actually witness one of my grandson’s weddings.” She shot Curtis and Craig, standing along the wall with Davy, a reproachful glare.

  The other men shrugged in unison, neither showing any remorse for having rather scandalously eloped.

  “Jacob,” Ginny snapped, turning to her youngest grandchild. “Let this be a good example for when you get married.”

  Jake’s expression remained blank, suspiciously so. “Grandmamma,” he drawled, “your counsel is noted.”

  David’s father and step-mother, Genie, approached next. “So ye’re still set on this fool plan to move west?” Robert Langston demanded, his telltale Scottish burr thick with emotion.

  Davy squelched a flare of irritation, and smiled. “That I am.”

  “What of yer wife?”

  “Lilly is the very reason I’m going,” Davy replied congenially. Strange how it hadn’t started that way, his quest to move west had begun as a means of escape. Now it was a future he shared with Lilly. “There is opportunity for her there.”

  Robert scowled, but did not press the issue further.

  “And speaking of my wife…” Davy shoved away from the wall, suddenly in the mood to take charge of that future. “I have something for her.” He strode to the bandstand, silencing the small musical assemblage.

  The music stopped and a low drone rolled through the crowd as everyone shuffled to a halt.

  Davy held up an arm. “Can I have your attention, please? I realize you’ve all suffered through my brother’s speech already—” Laughter rumbled through the room. “But I have a gift for my wife.”

  The room quieted and Davy’s gaze fell to Lilly at the center of the room. Swathed in ivory silk and lace, he was certain a more beautiful bride had never graced the city. Her eyes sparkled with the luminescence of diamonds, and his heart swelled with pride.

  “My recently acquired father-in-law has chided me on more than one occasion for neglecting to bring his daughter roses.” Davy stepped off the bandstand and plucked a single, long-stemmed red rose from his seat at the wedding party table. “It is an error in judgment I wish to rectify this very day.” He wended through the well-wishers, moving steadfastly through the crowd to Lilly. She grinned from ear to ear, a fevered blush staining her face and neck. He’d never seen her more lovely. He took a knee before her, offering up the rose. “I do not wish for roses to forever be a courier of bad memories for you, my love. Therefore, it is my solemn vow to present you with a rose every birthday, anniversary and holiday that we spend together. Starting with today.”

  11th Hour Rose

  Epilogue

  Nevada Territory

  Christmas Eve, 1868

  Lilly perched on a wooden chair at the simple table in her small homestead house, deep in thought. She tapped a pen against her chin and quickly wrote out a few more notes, aided by light from the cheery fire roaring in the hearth. After almost two months in their new home she was moving forward with plans to publish a small newspaper. It would take time, and a lot of hard work, but she was more than willing to commit to it. She’d also found that the residents of their small town were extremely grateful to have someone close by with a good legal education. Even a woman.

  The front door swung inward, admitting a rush cold air and snow.

  “Davy, you’re back!” She pushed her writing aside and rose to meet him. Her heart leapt with happiness.

  White fluffy snowflakes covered the brim of his low slanted hat and shoulders. “I
t is freezing out there.” He dropped a pile of firewood in the grate beside the hearth. He shrugged out of his coat and grinned mischievously at Lilly. “Come here.” He snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her against him and burying an ice cold palm in her neck.

  “Oh! No! Your hands are so cold!”

  He nuzzled her neck playfully. “Warm me up. It is Christmas after all.”

  Lilly giggled. “Which reminds me. I prepared some hot chocolate for us. That will help warm you.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  Lilly had also hung a stocking for each of them over the mantle, excited to form family traditions. She hurried to the little kitchen and quickly carried out two steaming mugs of chocolate and a plate of butter cookies.

  “Davy?” she called. “What is your middle name?”

  He stood with his back to her before the fire, facing the stockings. “It’s horrible. There is a reason I merely sign my name David A. Langston.” He turned, flashing an adorably lopsided grin. “It’s Alexius.”

  She set the platter down and sat on the sofa. “Oh, yes, I see. That name won’t do at all. Unless perhaps we called him Alex.”

  Davy cocked his head to the side. “I’m not following, Lil. What won’t do?”

  She smiled softly, a tremor of nerves tickling her middle. She was a bit nervous as to how he would take her news. “We need to start considering names. One for a boy and one for a girl.”

  His expression transformed from one of bewilderment to one of shock in the blink of an eye. “Lilly,” he drawled, crossing to her in one long stride. He scooped her up off the couch, crushing her to him. “You mean… you’re…”

  She nodded, blinking back tears of pure happiness as he danced a joyous circle with her in his arms.

  “I cannot imagine a more wonderful Christmas gift,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Which reminds me…” His voice trailed off, and he set her to his feet, a twinkle lighting his blue eyes.

 

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