“I was ready. I am ready. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Believe me, I could tell.”
He stroked her before he shook her lightly. “Listen, love, I’ve got a world of lovemaking planned for us, but I thought I should wait. Now, well, we couldn’t wait. It’s plain we’re always going to be hot for each other. Thank you, my darling, for making up my mind.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome. Told ya. Do you want a repeat?”
“I want a lot of repeats, but since we’ve started this, why don’t we just wait until we’re on gorgeous Diamond Point, make love in that powder-soft white sand and in the waterfall.”
“In the waterfall?”
“Yeah. It’s been my pipe dream. The fall is low, not too harsh. It’s warm there at night and you could heat it up even if it weren’t. Stevie, this is going to be heaven for both of us. I’m so glad we finally found each other.”
Damien went into his office early before the flight to Diamond Point. In the parking lot, before he could get out of his car, Honi drove up and they both got out.
“Are you following me?” he teased her.
“No, but I’d like to.” She came very close to him and her perfume was heady. She was so intense, but he was full of Stevie’s magic.
“Could I go in with you to talk?”
He shook his head no. “I’m on my way out of town for a few days and I’m rushed. When I get back…” He’d be married to Stevie then.
“You’re getting awfully close to Stevie Simms, aren’t you? Your house. Her house.”
He laughed. “Who’s your private investigator?”
Her face was sober. “She’s not for you, Damien. You’ve always liked svelte, glamorous women like me. Stevie’s plain, overweight…”
He grinned then. “I think she’s beautiful.”
“No, you don’t. You want to hurt me the way I hurt you and, God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s said everything happens for the best, Honi. I’m happy now. Stevie and I are getting married.”
“No! You can’t!” She wrung her hands. “This is all wrong. I won’t let you. I’ll make you change your mind!”
She flung her arms around him and planted wet kisses on his mouth. Her tongue sought entry to search for his, and her body against his was raging as her arms locked around his neck.
Very gently he disengaged her arms and held her away from him. His secretary pulled into the lot and Honi’s hands fell to her sides.
“It isn’t over, love,” she said heatedly. “It will never be over between you and me.”
Back home, he told Stevie what had happened and she looked thoughtful and bothered.
“It’s still not too late to change your mind.”
He caught her close. “You’re mine, baby, and I’m never letting go.”
Chapter 12
Diamond Point, the Caribbean
“Bonbini! Our word for welcome!”
One man and two women with leis greeted Stevie and Damien at the airport in Aruba. Stevie was entranced at the quaint beauty of the colorful island. One young girl stepped forward and hung a lei around their necks, kissed their cheeks, smiling all the time.
“The boat that will take us across the bay to Diamond Point is a short distance away,” Damien said and flagged a cab. They handled their medium-sized bags with ease and Damien told the older driver what they wanted. The driver grinned after looking at Stevie’s ringless hand. “You come to get married.”
Damien laughed. “We come to get married.”
“It is the way of heaven. Forty years I marry and it is still heaven.”
They both congratulated the man and in a very short while they were at the pier and the boat that waited to take them to Diamond Point. There were only three other passengers on the small boat and all smiled and spoke to them. The island they were headed toward was on the leeward side of Aruba and Stevie thought it shone like a jewel in the afternoon sunlight. Sandy white beaches curved invitingly around the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. Cacti of every type and size sat in prickly glory. Palm, divi-divi and kwihi trees abounded.
Like Aruba, Diamond Point was a place of gaily colored cottages, some of them made of mud and colored in pastel and bright hues. There were the prime minister’s palatial white mansion, the state houses, luxurious hotels and a number of “honeymoon estates” of varying colors and charming arrangement.
They took a Jeep and the ebullient driver studied them with sleepy eyes as Damien gave him the address. “May I take you first on a little sightseeing tour of the island?” he asked.
Damien glanced at his watch. “Well, we’ve got to be at the dressmaker’s for your fitting in a little while, but why not? We’ll do the sightseeing, drop off the bags and go to the dressmaker’s. We’re not going to have much time here.”
Stevie found the island beautiful in the extreme. The many shades of green, the flowering trees and cacti and the scent of wild and cultivated roses lay on the air like a blessing. She was comfortable in pale-blue handkerchief linen that flattered her silken skin, and wide-strapped tan sandals. Damien wore a navy linen blazer and white pants. After a few minutes he took off his jacket.
The weather was perfect with fat, white cumulus clouds. It seldom rained on Diamond Point, but there had been rain the night before and soft moisture still clung to the air. The driver pointed out the sites of interest. The old, old stone bridge that rose high in the air and went over a stream. The state houses were the pride of the islanders, the driver said. Goats were everywhere and well tolerated by the islanders. Several times they stopped to let a small herd of goats pass.
The innumerable birds were more brightly colored than any Stevie could remember seeing. Fabulous flocks of giant yellow and green parakeets were so tame they lighted on the Jeep and studied them, then flew away in search of their mates. Cashew trees grew in abundance.
Damien gave directions to a grove of green plants and Damien helped her out. His eyes crinkled with laughter as he told her, “I want you to see something you won’t see anywhere else.” Pointing out one lush plant, he said, “This is the bushni plant.” And Stevie had to laugh, because the plant was shaped like both the male and female sexual organs and they met and joined. “Oh, my Lord,” she murmured.
“This is worth coming back for,” Damien said. “If our climate supported it, I’d ask Matt Wolpers, their tourism minister, to let me take a few home.”
“They’d be the talk of the town.”
One bleak section of warehouses depressed Stevie, and a few shabby houses with faded paint stood nearby. “So you see,” Damien said, “even in paradise…”
Taking his binoculars, the driver scanned the horizon, then handed them his lenses and another pair.
“Look carefully,” he said, “and at some point you will see Diamond Point, tip to tip. It’s a true wonder.”
They looked and after a while it was as he said, and it was stunning. “That’s why I brought you to this point,” the driver said.
After the brief sightseeing trip, Damien and Stevie left their bags at their cottage and were at the dressmaker’s a little ahead of time. The buxom young dressmaker greeted them like long-lost friends and offered them something to eat, though neither was hungry.
The dressmaker pursed her lips in a charming smile. “You will fall in love with this dress. It’s a prize from my creative womb—I have done no other like it. Five of us worked on this beauty almost day and night. It stands ready and we can quickly make alterations if necessary. But you must have tea or coffee.” They accepted coffee as a hedge against the huge amount of energy they would expend over the rest of that day and night. The coffee brought by a young girl was a superb Turkish blend. They both wanted cream and sugar substitute and they lingered over the delicious brew.
Alterations were not necessary and the dress fitted perfectly. It was off-the-shoulder, layered ivory silk chiffon, it fell in flattering folds almost to the floor. “I have put together all the acc
essories you need and your fiancé described the lingerie he wanted you to have. Ah, you got a romantic in him. Be grateful.”
Back at their cottage, they rested a while, ate some of the bushni fruit the driver had cut for them—which tasted like strawberries—drank tamarind juice and gazed fondly into each other’s eyes.
A knock sounded and, at their invitation, their houseman, Perth, came in. Damien had known the man for a long time. Now Perth wanted Stevie to like him, too.
“I serve at your pleasure, ma’am,” he said. “You are a beautiful bride. Mr. Steele is a lucky man.”
Blushing, Stevie thanked him and he went out.
Damien took Stevie’s hand as they sat on the loveseat in the bedroom. “Tired?”
“Not a bit. The air is exhilarating.” She smiled then. “And getting married is even more so. Mrs. Damien Steele. Stevie Steele. What beautiful alliteration. What are you thinking?”
“About the waterfall. I always wondered what it would be like to make love in the waterfall.”
“That’s a romantic’s dream. The dressmaker said you’re a romantic.”
“Guilty as charged. You make a great subject for romanticism. I’m having a hard time holding back from ravishing you now, but we couldn’t stop. There’d be no wedding this night.”
“Would that be so bad?” she murmured. “There’s always tomorrow.”
He laughed heartily. “You’re getting lustful, like me.”
She spoke from the heart. “With you I think I’ve always been lustful. I just didn’t let myself know it.”
“Same here. And unlike you, I did let myself know it.” He kissed the tip of her nose and squeezed her hand. She had an hour and a half to shower and get into her wedding finery. It would have been wonderful to have Bretta attend her wedding but Bretta was no longer here and for a few moments she was incredibly sad.
“You’re thinking of Bretta,” Damien said.
“Yes.”
“More than anything, she’d want you to be happy.”
“I know. I’ve remembered a few more things about my songs and my past and oh, Damien, the last two verses of ‘The Way You Make Me Feel’ have come into my head.”
“Hey, that’s great!”
“I won’t sing it to you until I can play with it more. You’re so good for me—and to me.”
“I want to be. I feel like a different man since we got together.”
“I hope I get pregnant soon. I think I’m well enough.”
He studied her. “I’d say after last night, you’re plenty well enough. Your womb’s crying for a baby. Dr. Winslow approved of your getting married.”
“He did. He said I’m doing wonderfully well and he thinks you had everything to do with it. He knows we were friends before my amnesia so he’s not as concerned as he would be if we just met.” Her face clouded then. “What if I never remember the special scene, the hateful scene?”
“You will. We have to have faith.”
Stevie stood nervously surveying herself in the full-length mirror of the small room of the white, hillside church. She hugged herself and shivered at the delicious thrill that went through her as she thought of Damien in the next room. He had long ago made friends with the pastor of this church and had made arrangements for them to be married here.
“My dear, you look beautiful,” the pastor’s wife, a tan, middle-aged woman with a dreamy smile told her. This woman would be her matron of honor. “You remind me of my wedding day. Now don’t be nervous. We’ve known Mr. Steele for years and you’re getting a wonderful man.”
Stevie smiled. “I certainly think so.”
Looking at herself again she loved the layered ivory silk chiffon and the matching wide-brimmed hat. She wore a magnificent string of ivory pearls and matching drop earrings Damien had bought for her. He had also selected the cobwebby sheer lace lingerie she wore, and she blushed as she thought of his lustful eyes that reflected so many other things.
The pastor’s wife thrust a bouquet of big white roses and baby’s breath into her hands.
“There now. You’re all set.” She held up a Bible covered with ivory leather, imprinted with gold lettering. “My husband and I want you to have this to guide you through what has to be a wonderful life. There’s certainly enough love between you two. I’ll just put it here and give it to you after the ceremony. I’m so happy to be your matron of honor.”
It made Stevie a little sad that this was not a marriage based on love, but on deep bonds of respect and friendship. Nevertheless, she thought, it still felt wonderful.
A small girl of about six came in and smiled. “Oh, you look lovely,” she said shyly. She was dressed in white ruffled organdy with white satin bows in her hair.
“Thank you.” A small stab of pain went through Stevie. She might have had a child like this. Then she relaxed. She would have a child like this.
“This is Sheila, your flower girl,” the pastor’s wife said, smoothing the little girl’s hair.
“I’m honored to have you,” Stevie said, bending to take the child’s hand.
“I’ll be getting married one day and I hope I’ll look just like you.”
Stevie touched the child’s cheek. “I’m sure you will be more beautiful, and thank you for the compliment.”
Laughter kept bubbling in Stevie’s throat until she thought of Bretta and she sobered, but nothing could stop the joy she felt.
In another room Damien stood with the pastor by the window looking out on the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean Sea. His mind was on Stevie in the next room and his heart filled with rapture. She was so precious to him. His best friend.
“I say to you again, bonbini! Welcome,” the pastor said. “My heart is always glad when you visit and now you have brought a bride who gladdens my heart, too.”
For all his joy, Damien was nervous. He never wanted Stevie to be hurt again. He glanced down at his black business suit and black cravat. A man didn’t get married every day and this was his first—and last—time. It was strange when he thought about it. He had never dreamed about a wedding, only of the woman he would marry. In his heart of hearts, he knew he couldn’t have chosen a more perfect mate for himself than Stevie. If love never came, perhaps they’d never miss it.
The minister was thoughtful as he said, “I have carefully prepared many little surprises for your bride and I think you will be pleased. We are honored that you chose us to do these things and tears fill our eyes when we think of your generosity to us and our church. Ours is a poor congregation and we wanted to thank you in our own way. So we have further arranged a wedding celebration. I hope you don’t mind. And, oh yes, Matt Wolpers wanted me to tell you that he and Mrs. Wolpers will be here tonight.”
Damien was pleased because Matt had called to say there was a special meeting about trouble in the hills with some insurgents and he wasn’t sure he could make it. He had thought he would take Stevie downtown to a special dinner, but he was moved by this effort.
Damien smiled at the older man. “Mind? Man, I am overjoyed and Stevie will be, too. That’s good news about Matt. Everything’s coming up roses.”
A man knocked and came in. Tall, dark-brown and dressed in a black business suit, he smiled and the pastor introduced him as Winston Manning who would serve as best man. Matt had wanted to be his best man but knew he’d be pressed for time.
“It is my pleasure,” Winston said in a deep voice and Damien thanked him.
Stevie and Damien met in the hallway, and his heart raced when he saw her in the gown he had chosen. The hat brim shaded her eyes, but he knew they were sparkling.
The chapel was bedecked with orchids, roses, lilies of the valley and ferns and a blazing sun had begun to set over the Caribbean. Its long red and coral rays, combined with the perfume of the flowers, seemed to send a message that this would be a night like no other.
Damien and Stevie saw that the small church was packed with well-wishers and Stevie’s eyes filled with tears. What wo
nderful people these were.
Then they were at the altar and their dream was becoming a reality.
“Dearly beloved, this is our hour in the sun.” Thus began the words they had worked on together, uncovering the depths of their hearts, putting on paper all that they felt.
They said as one, “We will treasure each other, love and honor, swear to be faithful, hold each other in the highest esteem. We will do no hurt to each other and help each other in any way we can.”
They covered the waterfront with their tender words, but, Stevie thought, they had spoken of love and honor, and Damien could no longer love. Should they have left that word out? Stevie didn’t think so. What they had was a kind of love, a depth of understanding few people ever achieved. It had to be enough. She told herself it was enough.
And Damien wondered, too. He felt Stevie deserved so much more than he could give her, but she wanted him as he wanted her. They had bone-marrow-deep passion for each other and each kiss brought them closer. They kissed often.
They finished their vows and the best man handed Damien the diamond-encircled ring that matched the six-carat round white-diamond engagement ring. He had bought both on Diamond Point and they were exquisite. She raised tremulous eyes to him, misted with happy tears, as he slipped the ring on her finger and squeezed her hand. A lump filled his throat and he wanted her so badly he groaned inside.
A murmur of approbation went through the congregation and they smiled knowingly at a lovely wedding and coming honeymoon that would surely be splendid.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Damien drew Stevie close in a daze, and her presence blotted out all else for him. He felt her rapid heartbeats against the thunder of his own and he wished for precious privacy to make her his own in ways neither would ever forget.
The pastor’s wife kissed them both, and the pastor kissed Stevie’s cheek, shook Damien’s hand.
“Now begins the merriment,” the pastor said. “Your dress is just right for our grand little party. We are all in our Sunday best.”
The Way You Make Me Feel Page 13