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Tempt Me at Midnight

Page 18

by Maureen Smith


  He whirled suddenly, reaching her in two powerful strides and hauling her roughly into his arms. Her heart soared to the sky and she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as tears of joy and relief streamed down her face.

  “I love you, love you,” Quentin whispered hoarsely. “Don’t ever leave me again!”

  “I won’t!” she promised.

  He hugged her tightly, then cradled her tear-streaked face between his hands and gazed fervently into her eyes. “I’ve always loved you, Lex. I wish to God I’d figured it out before you married another man. That was one of the worst days of my life!”

  Her heart swelled with raw emotion. “I should have known that day how I truly felt about you,” she confessed. “The moment I stepped through the church doors and started searching for you, I should have known.”

  Quentin groaned, his mouth covering hers with fierce, tender urgency. They kissed as though their very lives depended on it, pouring years of secret longing and passion into the kiss.

  Drawing back slightly, Quentin rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, into her soul. “Help me make this right, sweetness,” he said in an achingly husky voice. “Say you’ll marry me.”

  Smiling through her tears, Lexi reached up and cupped his warm cheek in her palm. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Whooping with triumphant elation, Quentin lifted her into his arms and spun her around before capturing her lips in another deep, searing kiss that was eventually interrupted by the sound of applause.

  Mouths parting reluctantly, they glanced toward the house. A crowd of their friends, Georgina Reddick and several other guests had gathered on the veranda, their faces wreathed in wide, delighted grins as they watched the emotional reunion.

  “I told you Q would be next,” Michael crowed to an incredulous Percy Sheldon. “Now pay up.”

  Laughter swept over the veranda.

  “So are we having another garden wedding,” Asha called out merrily, “or do you lovebirds have somewhere else in mind?”

  Lexi and Quentin looked at each other and smiled. “Burgundy.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  Everything was perfect.

  The weather was glorious. The hills surrounding the château were covered with fields of lavender that perfumed the air, mingled with the scent of ripe grapes wafting from the lush vineyards. Flowers bloomed in the beautifully manicured garden, where three hundred guests were gathered.

  The flower girls sprinkled a trail of roses and anemones in honor of the bride’s favorite print, a gift from the groom. Ring bearers Matthew and Malcolm Wolf drew adoring sighs and chuckles from the crowd as they strutted down the aisle. The gorgeous dresses worn by the bridesmaids—Reese, Samara, Raina, and Summer Austin—elicited hearty murmurs of approval.

  An awed hush swept over the garden when the bride made her entrance, radiant in a strapless princess gown fashioned out of white appliquéd silk. Handkerchiefs were fumbled out of purses and dabbed at watery eyes.

  Everything was perfect.

  But as Lexi started down the aisle on Sterling’s arm, she only had eyes for Quentin. Not only was he devastatingly handsome in a custom-made Armani tuxedo, but the worshipful look in his eyes took her breath away. Over the years they had laughed and cried together, and fought like there was no tomorrow. But in Quentin’s eyes she saw a lifetime of tomorrows, glorious days filled with joy and fiery passion. She saw the promise of the children they would bring into the world together. And most of all, she saw love. A deep, unshakable love that would sustain them through whatever trials life brought their way.

  As they exchanged their vows on that momentous day, their voices trembled with emotion. This time when Lexi spoke the words “I do,” she knew down to her soul that this was forever. When Quentin lifted her veil and gazed down at her glowing face, tears were swimming in both their eyes. As their lips joined in a passionate kiss, their guests showered them with cheers and applause.

  As Quentin swept Lexi into his arms and carried her back down the aisle, she was surprised—and touched—to see her mother weeping with gratitude.

  Carlene was undergoing counseling to deal with her emotional scars. After having a long heart-to-heart talk, she and Lexi had agreed to work on mending their relationship. They were taking things one day at a time, and Lexi believed that someday they would be all right.

  But even if the painful memories from the past haunted them for years to come, Lexi knew that with Quentin by her side, she’d never have to run again.

  Later, after sneaking out early from the reception festivities, the newlyweds lay blissfully sated in each other’s arms after an explosive round of lovemaking that had left them shuddering and gasping for breath.

  They were spending their first night as husband and wife in a cozy cottage located on the grounds of the estate. They would relocate to the château tomorrow, after their friends and family members had departed for home. When some of the other couples—namely Michael and Reese, Marcus and Samara, and Warrick and Raina—joked about sticking around longer to enjoy the scenic French countryside, Quentin wasted no time reminding them that they’d each had their romantic honeymoons, so now it was his and Lexi’s turn.

  At that moment, Lexi sighed contentedly and snuggled against him. “That had to be the most beautiful wedding in the history of weddings. And I’m not just saying that because it was ours.”

  Quentin smiled into her eyes. “And you had to be the most beautiful bride in the history of brides. And I’m not just saying that because you’re mine.”

  “Oh, Quentin.” Even as she smiled with pleasure, he could feel her blushing against his chest.

  He’d meant every word. For as long as he lived, he would never forget the vision of Lexi wafting toward him in a hypnotic swirl of ivory silk. His heart had gotten so full it damn near burst out of his chest. He’d wanted to charge down the aisle and whisk her away before the ceremony even began. It must have showed on his face because Michael, standing beside him as best man, had murmured in a low, amused voice, “Easy, boy. Be patient.”

  Lexi was stroking Quentin’s chest, a slow, gentle caress that sent heat curling to his groin. He’d never get enough of making love to her. Ever.

  “Asha designed all of our gowns,” Lexi murmured. “I told her I wanted to look like a princess this time, because I was marrying my Prince Charming.”

  Quentin smiled softly. “Careful, sweetness,” he warned. “You’re gonna make me fall even harder for you.”

  “Good. I’m greedy.”

  He kissed her, a deep, possessive kiss that reminded her just how greedy he could be, too. As he drew back, she let out a soft, shaky breath and grinned.

  “I’m not getting any sleep tonight, am I?”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “Or for many nights to come.”

  She pretended to consider this, then shrugged. “I can live with that.”

  They both laughed.

  Cuddling her closer, Quentin laced his fingers through hers, and for a minute they just gazed at their joined hands with the matching gold wedding bands.

  “Can you believe we did it?” Lexi marveled, sounding as awed as he felt.

  “It’s pretty incredible.”

  Lexi. His best friend.

  His heart and soul.

  His wife.

  Would he ever get used to the knowledge that she was finally his? His to cherish. His to protect. His to love.

  His for eternity.

  It was enough to make a man shout to the heavens.

  Lexi released another one of those soft, dreamy sighs. “I wish we could stay here forever, Quentin. Not even three weeks seem long enough.”

  “We’ll come back,” Quentin assured her.

  “You promise?”

  “Absolutely. After all—”

  “—this is our spot,” she finished tenderly.

  They smiled at each other, then gazed out the open bedroom window just as
fireworks erupted into the night sky, cascading over the château and illuminating the ballroom balcony where their journey had begun with a stolen kiss at the stroke of midnight.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7617-2

  TEMPT ME AT MIDNIGHT

  Copyright © 2010 by Maureen Smith

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Kimani Press, Editorial Office, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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