After the curtain came down on opening night, Liz’s dressing room was filled with bouquets from well-wishers and fans. But the best gift she received was the look in Hunter’s eyes when he came backstage. He stood a bit away from where she sat on her dressing room stool, allowing members of the cast and Griffin to gather around Liz to congratulate her. At last, knowing how much Liz wanted to be alone with Hunter, Griffin shepherded the rest of the cast out of the room.
“I don’t have the words,” he said, going to her and bringing her up into his arms. “You were just…there are no words. I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you, my love. It meant so much to me that you were in the audience, cheering for me during the bow.”
He should tell her about putting money into the show. She wouldn’t like it, but he’d better tell her now before she heard it from someone else. He only hoped she wouldn’t be as angry as he imagined she could be.
Liz pulled away and sat down at her dressing table to take off the elaborate wig that went with her nineteenth century costume. “I’ve got to get out of this instrument of torture. It’s killing me.” In a casual tone, she went on, “It looks as if you’ll get your investment back.”
“What?”
“Your investment.” She stood up and put her arms around him. “Oh, Hunter, don’t you know that nobody in the theater can keep a secret? Griff came to me the first week in rehearsal to tell me you’d put up a big chunk of money and that if I was going to go all self-righteous on him and walk off the set, I’d better do it now when they had time to find someone to replace me. I told him it was your money and if you didn’t have sense enough not to back a Broadway show, then that was your business. He breathed a sigh of relief and went back to directing.”
“That’s a strange world you inhabit.”
“Not so strange. Just made up of all different kinds of people. Sort of a microcosm of the world. Hunter, I need to get out of this dress.” Her face changed, got that subtle, sexy, come-hither look she did so well when it suited her. “Will you shut the door? You can help me out of this corset as well as Susie can.”
“I’d very much like to help you out of your corset.”
“Don’t undue all the strings. It’s too much trouble. Just loosen the top ones enough so I can pull it down over my hips.”
When he’d done as she said, she pulled the corset down and stepped out of it. Now she was bare to the waist, wearing only pantalets and white stockings. He pulled off the pantalets and almost gasped at the sight of her in nothing but those lacy white stockings which stopped at the top of her thighs.
“Do we need to take those off to…”
“No,” she said, and slid her hands under his jacket to let it fall to the floor. She undid his belt and unzipped his pants. “I’ve always heard of people making love in their dressing rooms, but I’ve never actually done it. I’m not quite sure…” She backed him up to stand against the door and then said, “Do you have a condom in your pocket?”
He brought out the purple packet. “Always prepared.”
Now expert in the art of rolling on a condom, she did the honors. “Hands under buttocks,” she took his hands and placed them there, “lift me up and…” she eased herself on to him. “Oh, yes, that’s what I like.” She wrapped her legs around him to help balance her weight. Then it was up to her to set the rhythm. Slow. Slow. Hunter groaning. Ah, yes, slow, slow. Then Hunter took control and there was no more slow. There was just deep penetration and a heated rhythm and then that shattering release, heightened by the danger of making love in a public place.
When she climbed down off him and showed him where to dispose of his condom, he felt extremely pleased that she didn’t rush to get into her clothes. Instead she sat down on the stool and said, “You haven’t finished undressing me.” She stretched out one long, lovely leg.
“I haven’t, have I?” He knelt at her feet and put his hands deep within her thighs to find the top of the left stocking. He took his time inserting his fingers under the lace. Then he began to roll the stocking slowly down her leg. When he finished, he spread the stocking out on her dressing table. He did the same with the other stocking and said, “I’m sorry these are part of your costume. I’d like to have them bronzed.”
“You idiot.” Now fully nude she stood up and took him into her arms. “Thank you for putting money into the show. Thank you for understanding my need to perform. And thank you for loving me.”
“It is my pleasure.” He ran a hand down her bare spine. “Don’t you have an after party to go to?”
“I do.” she said.
“Red dress?” he asked, pulling it out of the hanging area.
“Red dress,” she said, taking it from him and smiling.
In the next two months, Liz’s life was a whirlwind, preparing for the shows, doing the shows, coming home to Hunter to make love with him in the big bed.
Christmas Eve had been so far away when they had set the date, and now it was here. They flew to Rochester to be married in Hunter’s family home on East Avenue, hopefully dodging the paparazzi.
Chapter18
On the day before Christmas, Liz stood with Lynne in Amelia’s luxurious beige bedroom at the top of the stairs getting ready for the ceremony, telling herself she had nothing to be nervous about. But she did. She loved Hunter and he loved her, but with their high-powered busy careers, would it work? She might be able to exist without performing, but she couldn’t live without Hunter.
Amelia floated into the room. “You both look lovely.” Lynne had gone with Liz to pick out the wedding gown and the maid of honor dress. Liz had chosen a strapless creation in white lace with a flowing skirt and a small train. Its simplicity suited her. For Lynne, they agreed on a rose dress in a simple design that crisscrossed her breasts and complimented her dark hair. In the dressing room, Liz had said to Lynne, “you’ll be next.” Lynne had made a face and said, “Not in this lifetime.”
Justin would play Pachelbel’s Canon on the guitar for Liz to walk down that beautiful flight of stairs and she and Hunter would stand in front of the fireplace in the huge living room with only their families gathered around them.
Now the music started and it was time. Liz gathered up her courage and descended the stairs, her bouquet of pink roses in her hand. How did a woman know if she was doing the right thing?
Then she saw Hunter standing there in his black tux and she knew she would never do a more ‘right’ thing in her life then marry this man.
After the ceremony there were congratulations, hugs and kisses and the traditional wedding table set in the huge dining room. It was then that Liz realized her sister Kate was there. Now Liz’s day was complete. They hugged and laughed and almost cried.
“Come say hello to Hunter.” Liz caught Kate’s hand and towed her over to Hunter where he stood chatting with Alex and Justin, champagne glass in his hand.
Liz made the introductions. Hunter’s keen eye went to the scarf wrapped around her sister’s neck. “I’m glad to meet you,” he told Kate.
Her sister suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I just wanted to see you in your wedding gown,” she told Liz. “We’ll catch up later,” Kate promised and drifted away before Liz could say anymore.
At the sumptuous dinner table, Liz had no appetite and she noticed Hunter wasn’t eating much either.
“Are you sorry we did this?” she whispered to him.
“What?”
“You’re not eating anything.”
“Hell no, I’m not sorry. What I’m sorry about is how much longer I have to wait before I can get you naked under a tropical moon.”
“Hunter Cameron, you have a one-track mind.”
“And lucky for me, I found a woman who’s on the same track. If we cut the damn cake, then can we leave?”
“I think we can.”
Six hours later, an hour after midnight, Liz and Hunter lay cuddled on a patio chair on the island of St. John. The warm night air was filled with the so
und of the surf and the rustle of palm trees. Liz was naked, but Hunter didn’t seem to mind. He was just as naked except for his socks.
“Why do you have your socks on?”
“Because my feet are ugly.”
“Well, that’s it.” She made as if to get up off the lounger and out of his arms. “This marriage is over. I’m getting a divorce. I can’t possibly stay married to a man with ugly feet.”
He pulled her back down and the look in his eyes almost scared her. Quickly she said, “It was a joke, Hunter.”
“Not funny.”
“Don’t you know that you’re stuck with me for life?” she said. “Weren’t you paying attention? Richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Words,” Hunter said.
“No,” she said, “vows. I vowed to love you till I die.”
“How do you know you will?”
“I don’t know. I just know I’ll do everything in my power to keep my vows to you. That’s all I can do, Hunter.”
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you.”
“Nor I, you. Pretty scary isn’t it?” She rolled over on top of him, finding the place where he fit. They’d made love in Hunter’s private plane and as soon as they arrived on the island, but Hunter was already hard. “Wasn’t it scary when you started your business?”
“Not like this.”
She snuggled closer, using her hand to guide him into her. “Now if you want to contemplate something really scary, think about this. I’m going to make love to you and we’re not going to use any protection.” She leaned away from him. “I want a family, Hunter. I want children with you. It will probably tank my career but I’m already on the wrong side of thirty and I’m not getting any younger.” She guided him inside her. “Okay?”
“More than okay.” He rocked her in a slow rhythm. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”
“A boy who looks like you. Who’ll give us so much trouble…”
“I want a girl who looks like you.” He thrust more deeply, making her groan with pleasure. It was so good to feel him inside of her with nothing between them. “And it’s my sperm that determines the sex, you know.”
“You just have to have your own way in everything, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, with that gleam of anticipation in his eyes. “As long as you agree.
Epilogue
Liz came out of Hunter’s luxurious motor home, sensing the energy of the spring air in Pennsylvania, feeling as if she could dance and sing with delight.
Their house. The lovely old Victorian home was going to be their house, hers and Hunter’s. A home for a family.
Liz put her face to the sky, drinking in the wonderful country air, turning to take in the sight of their house rising out of grass. Spring. The earth coming to life. She must go to Hunter. She must tell him.
Liz saw him then. Hunter, dressed in a red plaid shirt, well-worn jeans with his tool belt slung low over his hips, balancing his tall body on the slanted surface of that impossibly high mansard roof, walking on what looked to be a narrow board nailed into the shingles. One false move by those booted feet and he’d fall to earth with every bone in his body broken. Liz went cold with fear and began to run, faster than she should have in her clumsy rubber boots, traveling over the rough, grassy ground.
Hunter saw her and called down, “What’s the matter?” His casual question and his relaxed posture up on the roof made her madder than ever.
“Come down here. Now.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t stand there like a bloody idiot, just get down here.”
Hunter gave her a quizzical look, but he balanced his way over the board and found a foothold on the scaffolding, swinging down through it with the ease of long practice.
Liz ran at him and shoved him with both hands. A lesser man might have been taken by surprise by her attack and stumbled. Not Hunter. He simply caught Liz and held her where she was. “Hey, tiger lady. What’s got you so upset?”
“Are you crazy? Who do you think you are, Karl Wallenda? He fell, you know. You’re too old to be…” she sputtered, words failed her, “…up there.” She jabbed upward at the roof.
He went on holding her. “Liz, calm down. I’ve been doing this all my life.”
“Not with me watching, you haven’t.”
Hunter’s arms were hard with muscle, his face tanned. Had she thought he was attractive in his Savile Row suits? This man was way beyond that, elemental, real, powerful enough to climb easily down a scaffolding and wield power tools. It seemed that, out here on this Pennsylvania grassland, she was seeing the real Hunter, the man who had learned every facet of this business from bricklayer to carpenter.
To Hunter, Liz looked like a slightly demented Valkyrie with the Pennsylvania wind blowing her hair around her head and her face wreathed in fury. His wife was too beautiful to be believed. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d pulled her parka jacket on over what was very brief sleepwear. Below that jacket, her legs were long, shapely, and bare. Her feet were covered with black rubber boots.
Hunter grabbed for the buckle at his waist to rip off the tool belt he wore and let it fall to the ground in complete disregard for his tools. He barked an order to his foreman who stood up in that dangerous labyrinth of scaffolding where Hunter had been. “Hey, John. Make sure those basement windows are installed to allow egress. And remember we’re lining the window wells with reclaimed railroad ties I bought at the salvage yard.”
“Where are you going?” John called back.
“I’ve got another job to do.”
The foreman looked down at Liz with her beautiful face and her hair blowing wild and free and those legs that were bare below her jacket and gave a long whistle. “Nice work if you can get it.”
“Get back to work,” Hunter growled. He turned to Liz. “What do you think you are doing, coming out to the site with damn little on under that jacket?”
“If you weren’t up crawling around on that roof like a demented monkey, I might have remembered to put some clothes on.”
Hunter turned her around and with a hard hand on her elbow, trundled her toward their motor home. At the door, Hunter put his hands on her rear and propelled her up the steps. Once they were locked in the close intimacy of the RV, she turned around to him, her face still rosy with temper and exertion. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Appeasing my wife.”
“How do you intend to do that?”
“You’ll know in a minute.”
He removed her jacket. Pajamas top and panties followed.
“Your turn. Undress me, wife.”
“Your whole crew will know what we’re doing.”
“Do you think I give a damn? Liz, just get these bloody buttons unbuttoned.”
She drew his flannel shirt slowly off of his arms. He had a sleeveless t-shirt on underneath. “You working men wear too many clothes.”
“You naked women talk too much.” Hunter sat down to unlace his boots and strip off jeans and briefs. Now as naked as she, he step-walked Liz back to the luxurious bed and fell on it with her underneath him.”
“Careful,” she warned him.
He lifted his head to study her face. “You’ve never complained about being underneath me before.”
“I’ve never been pregnant before.”
He rolled off of her immediately and lay very still beside her, rising on his elbow to look down at her. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her ever so gently. “Oh, my darling. You are my life. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I never thought I would be a father. You’ve given me such a gift.”
“We’ll share our love with our child. Hunter Cameron, you are mine for all eternity,” she said, and settled his body inside hers while she kissed him, claiming his mouth as he claimed her body.
Many Thanks to Linda Hoffman for being my beta reader and to Cindy Foley, author of The Tr
uth Lies, for helping me through the intricacies of preparing a book for publication.
And to my readers: A review would be much appreciated. You can write to Shirley Larson at [email protected] or [email protected] She would love to hear from you.
More books available in The Cameron Family Saga
Wooing Justin
Winning Alex
A Cowboy for Lynne
Other books available by Shirley Larson
That Black Stallion
A Cowboy is Forever
A Ring, A Bracelet and Venus in paperback or The Medieval Knight in ebooks. (A Time Travel Romance)
In ebook, This Love Will Go On
In both ebooks and paperback from Amazon and Kindle
Branded by Passion
The Summer of Jamie’s Secret
Smokin’ Hot Cowboy, book number 1 in the super sexy series.
Historical Romances
Forbidden Love, Forever Love
Deception at Midnight
Wanting Hunter: Book 1 in the Cameron Family Saga Page 12