by Girard, Dara
Brenna shook her head. She didn’t like the picture he painted of her. “No, you don’t—”
“It makes perfect sense. See? I do understand you. I have no aversion to being married for my position or money. At least you’re honest about it.” He drew her to him and held her snugly. “I’ve finally met your standards of a suitable spouse. I’m glad I have. With that kind of beginning we are certain to make this union work.”
She looked up at him helplessly, knowing that he didn’t understand how she felt and that she didn’t want him just for what he could give her. “Yes, but—”
He stopped her with a kiss and soon she didn’t care that their bargain sounded so cold. And he didn’t care that his promotion had changed her mind. He deepened the kiss as he carried her to the couch. His hands roamed over her, gathering the silk dress in his fingers. He removed one spaghetti strap and kissed her shoulder, the floral scent of lilacs greeted him.
“We probably should stop,” he mumbled.
“Yes.” She placed a stream of kisses along his jaw, knowing she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him body and soul.
His voice grew husky as his body responded to her. “But I’m not going to.”
“I know.”
Her hand eagerly ran up the length of his chest. “So which pocket are they in?”
“What?”
“Your condoms.”
He slowly removed the other strap, his voice barely a whisper as his gaze roamed over her body. “I don’t have condoms.”
“Neither do I.”
He stared at her stunned. “You’re not taking anything?”
“No.”
He thought for a moment, staring at the lace of her bra, and then said, “We could start a family tonight.”
“No.”
Hunter raised a brow, hopeful. “How about your friend next door?”
Brenna looked at him outraged. “I couldn’t ask her for condoms.”
He stood. “I could.”
“No. Don’t!”
He was out the door before she could stop him. He knocked on the door.
“Shh!” Brenna said behind him. “Do you want to wake everybody up?”
“No, just her.” He knocked again. Brenna grabbed his hand; he raised his other one determined.
Fortunately, Tima opened the door before he knocked once more. To Brenna’s relief she looked wide awake. “Yes?”
Brenna stepped in front of Hunter. “Sorry to ask you this, and I realize this is very inconsiderate of us to ask such a favor, especially at this time of night when you were probably very relaxed doing something else and here we are barging in on your privacy. However we were wondering —”
Hunter covered Brenna’s mouth. “Do you have any condoms?”
Tima opened the door wider and smiled. “I have a selection.”
“We aren’t picky.”
She turned. “I’ll be right back.”
Brenna removed Hunter’s hand. “Let me chose.”
“Why? I’ll have to wear it.”
She playfully nudged him. “Don’t be difficult.”
He nudged her back. “I’m never difficult.”
Tima came out with a box. “I have flavored, glow in the dark, massage.”
Brenna picked up one. “This looks interesting.”
Hunter shook his head. “I’m not wearing a pink condom with things on the end. Looks like I have an infectious disease.” He grabbed one. “This will do.”
Tima raised a mocking brow. “Only one?”
“You’re right.” He took the box. “Don’t worry I’ll reimburse you. Come on Brenna.”
Brenna followed unable to look at her friend.
She met him a few moments later in the bedroom, suddenly conscious of his magnetic, commanding appeal. There was no turning back from this moment and she had no plans to. Brenna wanted to be in the circle of his arms, feel him inside her. She licked her lips, trying to tame the tingling in the pit of her stomach. “Did you have to take the entire box?”
He tossed his shirt. “No.”
Brenna swallowed soaking in his muscular, towering strength. Be gentle with me she wanted to say, but instead said, “Should we consider this sealing the bargain?” faking a nonchalance she didn’t feel.
He unzipped his trousers. “Can’t you talk and undress at the same time?”
“Of course.”
“Then why aren’t you?” He lifted a sly brow. “Nervous?”
Brenna pulled off her dress with trembling fingers and sat with her back to him. “I’m not nervous.”
“How long has it been?” he asked softly, with a tenderness she hadn’t expected.
“None of your business.”
Hunter clicked his tongue in teasing pity. “That long?” He unlatched her bra, his knuckles brushing against her skin in a slow caress.
Her hands flew to her chest. “Hey!”
“You’re taking too long,” he said in a deep, coaxing voice.
She turned to him. He was naked and properly fitted. “Oh I see.”
“Yes, and I’m waiting.” He removed her hands and took off her bra. When his hands dropped to her panties she stopped him.
“I can do that myself.”
“Fine, but let’s get one thing clear.”
“What?”
“I’ll marry you anyway.”
Her mouth fell open. “Anyway?”
“In case it’s not any good.”
“And why would you think it wouldn’t be any good?” Brenna asked in clipped tones.
“I just know you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Hunter rubbed the bare skin of her back, sending a warming shiver through her. “It’s okay. I think it’s sweet.”
“I’m not nervous,” she repeated with more force, hoping to convince him and herself.
“So far you’re all talk.”
Brenna swallowed hard then took a deep breath gathering her courage, afraid she would disappoint him and embarrass herself. “Then let’s stop talking,” she said boldly. She pulled him towards her, but he kissed her first. With lips that could be classified as a dangerous weapon. They were as soft as they looked and drained her of any inhibitions as they left a moist trail up her cheek to her ear. “Not the ear.”
“But I like your ears.” He caught a lobe lightly between his teeth.
“I don’t care.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t understand then kissed a path down her chest. He stopped between her breasts and rested his cheek against one then the other.
“What are you doing?”
“Surveying the landscape.”
“And staking claim?”
“I will in a minute.” He skimmed a hand over her stomach. “Stop holding your breath.”
“I’m not holding my breath.”
“Then stop sucking in...there that’s better.”
She felt heat rise, not from passion but embarrassment.
He suddenly stopped. “You’re not enjoying this.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re not even touching me. You’re lying like a board. I know we’re going to be married, but you don’t have to treat this like a civic duty.”
She circled one of his nipples with her forefinger. “Okay, I admit I’m a little nervous.”
“Why?”
Brenna traced the other nipple a grin tugging on her lips. “Because I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep up with me,” she said ready to be reckless. She arched into him, surrendering to her decision that there would be no other man after this. “I’m not sure that you can satisfy all my needs.”
His tone became a husky whisper. “I will satisfy needs you didn’t even know you had.”
Hunter covered her body and she relinquished herself to his passionate assault, letting go of her dream of finding the perfect match and once she did something within her began to grow, soon she enjoyed the scents and textures of his skin. His fingers stirrin
g her emotions making her bare skin feel as fragile as papyrus. She moved against the sleek caress of his body as heat spread through her. When she welcomed him inside her, something that was dying burst forth, spreading its arms wide and declaring itself. She was still a woman although she’d let Byron’s hurtful words convince her that she didn’t have a right to be.
Hunter knew she was all woman. She felt better than he’d thought. Tasted better. He remembered his first taste of rum. How it burned going down. Brenna had the same effect. His body burned and wanted more. He soon rolled off her and fell on his back.
She turned to him. “What did you think?”
“I enjoyed myself.”
“Nothing earth-shattering.”
“Who needs the earth to shatter?”
“I don’t.”
“Neither do I.”
She bit her lip and grinned. “Want to try again?”
The second time had them breathless, by the third time Brenna nearly collapsed under the raw warmth of his body and the primitive energy that electrified the air between them. In his arms she could be any woman—she wasn’t different. She was whole and unscarred. But he was far from being just any man. His name suited him and he had hunted until he’d tapped into her pleasure spot and aroused desires and sensations she didn’t know existed. When they finally broke away the only sound in the room was their labored breathing. Brenna looked at him then down. She reached out and touched his erection. “We can’t keep your little friend down, can we?”
Hunter shot her a glance. “He takes offense to the word ‘little’.”
“Oh.” She rolled off his condom then touched the tip of her tongue to his penis. “I’m sorry.”
“And you’re not going to get him down by doing that.”
“Who says I want him to go down?”
For the next hour Brenna made herself well acquainted with his friend and then Hunter made himself acquainted with hers. After they were both satisfied with their introductions they lay back and stared at the ceiling.
“Would you like something to drink?” Brenna managed to ask although she wasn’t sure she could move.
“I’d like some coffee,” Hunter grumbled.
She sat up and grabbed a robe. “Coffee takes time.”
He stretched his arms the length of the headboard. “That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
She went into the kitchen and prepared the coffee. He came up behind her and kissed the curve of her neck.
She jabbed him with her elbow. “I thought you had enough.”
“I changed my mind. Ow!” He rubbed where she’d hit him. “Then you’d better give me something else to do.”
“Sit down and twiddle your thumbs.”
He sat. “I don’t know how to twiddle.”
“Think about your promotion.”
He clasped his hands behind his head and smiled. “What a great evening.”
Brenna stared at him stunned. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She failed.
“What?”
“You have dimples.”
Hunter’s smile disappeared, he let his hands fall. “Damn.”
She handed him his coffee and sat. “You have a wonderful smile. Though you’re right. It doesn’t quite fit your image.”
“Like putting bows on a rotwelier,” he said disgusted.
“I could just picture you as a little boy.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I got them from my mother. She loved to smile.” He sat back in his chair. “That’s one of the few things I remember about her.”
“And you don’t smile because you don’t want to be like her?”
“No, I don’t smile because I don’t want to remind anyone of her. She was different, that’s why she couldn’t stay.”
“And you’re not different?”
He met her eyes. “No. I’m like the rest of the family. Ambitious and determined.”
“But if you were different, would that be bad?”
He shrugged. “I’m not different so I don’t worry about it.”
She nodded although she didn’t understand.
He took another sip of coffee then stared at the rim of the mug puzzled. “This is lipstick.” He wiped his mouth and stared at the napkin. He sent her an accusing look. “Why didn’t you tell me I was wearing lipstick?”
Brenna fluttered her lashes. “It was your shade.”
“Hmm.” Hunter finished his coffee then set it down. “I don’t want a long engagement.”
“I know.”
“You won’t regret your decision I promise you.”
“No need for promises. We’re in this together.”
***
“You’re going to marry him?”
Brenna sighed, watching her friend across the restaurant table. “Pauline, calm down.”
Tima ate the pineapple slice from her pina colada. “Congratulations.”
Pauline tapped the table agitated. “Didn’t I warn you to be careful? How did he persuade you? Diamonds, a new car?”
“It’s not—”
She narrowed her eyes. “I know. He promised you a new wardrobe and while that would certainly persuade me, it shouldn’t have been a deciding factor for you.”
“He needs me and I need him.”
Pauline stared as though about to choke. “Why?”
“He needs a wife and I could use some help with medical costs.”
“That isn’t a reason to marry him.”
Brenna peppered her broccoli soup. “It’s reason enough for me.”
“So you’re marrying him for his money?”
She set the pepper down. “In a way. I was upfront about this.”
“You realize this makes you a gold digger.”
Tima popped a cheese fry in her mouth. “Dig deep, sister.”
Pauline sent her a look. “Marriage is a big step.” She pointed a finger at Brenna. “Once he has you, he’ll forget about you.”
“I’ll make sure that he doesn’t. You don’t have to be happy for me, but I’d prefer you stop discouraging me. I’ve made up my mind.”
Pauline sighed. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“I would never have guessed.”
“At least marry someone who cares about you.”
“Hunter cares about me.”
“He cares about his promotion.” She reached over and grabbed her hands. “Oh, Brenna, don’t be desperate. You deserve better.”
“I’m not desperate. I know what I want, and I’m taking the steps to get there. Plus think of how it will look for business. I would be married to a very eligible bachelor. A married matchmaker gets more business. You hinted at that once. I’ve thought this through.”
Pauline sat back in her chair, folded her arms and flashed a skeptical look, but didn’t reply.
***
To her amazement Stephen was just as unenthusiastic.
“I thought you liked him,” Brenna said, switching the phone to her other ear.
“I do, but marrying a guy for his money? That’s not like you.”
“He’s marrying me for a promotion. Isn’t that the same thing?”
He was silent a moment then said, “Marriage is hard enough when you love each other, when you don’t—”
“We understand each other.”
“Divorce is hard you know.”
“Why would you even think that way?”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Brenna slid into the couch. “That won’t happen. I’ll never let a man hurt me again.”
***
Virginia in the spring is very much like the Virgin Queen after which she was named—proud and prosperous. Especially on mornings when daylight arrives in hand with a soft mist swirling across tall grass that undulates like waves against the breeze. Brenna marveled at such a morning as she sat on a little mare Hunter had given her. It was their third ride and she was quickly becoming accustomed to being on a horse again. She had
been an avid rider when she was young and occasionally took lessons when her doctor encouraged her to exercise. But to her it wasn’t exercise, it was freedom.
She glanced at the Victorian house in the distance. On its white wraparound porch, she, Hunter and his parents had sipped raspberry lemonade for the past two evenings and talked about the wedding. She was glad she and Hunter had arrived early so that she could feel part of the family without his grandfather’s watchful eyes.
The late spring air lifted the perfume from the rambling peony border around the house where white blooms burst with shots of yellow. She looked at Hunter on his stallion, a large brown horse with eyes just as intense and clever as its rider. Her mare took little notice of either of them. Brenna couldn’t do the same. She was looking at her future husband.
It seemed appropriate that now surrounded by this open country where foxes and beavers ran wild that she would face the reality of her choice. She waited for unease, shock, doubt to hit, but none of those emotions claimed her, just a gentle peace, a firm knowing.
Suddenly, she felt wild, free, impulsive.
“Race you to those trees!” she called. Before he could reply she broke into a run. She was a shadow through the mist, becoming the wind; her horse the air. She could have ridden until time melted into nothingness, but she reined in at her destination. She threw Hunter a smug grin when he stopped beside her.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he said.
She raised a brow. “Did I worry you?”
He crossed his forearms over the pommel and glared at her. “Was that your goal?”
“You didn’t need to worry. I know how to ride.”
His eyes swept over the horse then her. “Obviously.” He turned his stallion. “But don’t ever do that again.”
She followed. “What? Race you?”
“No.” He shot her a glance. “Win.”
She laughed and they trotted back to the stables.
***
That evening, Brenna changed for the reception with mounting dread. She did not look forward to meeting Doran or his grandfather again. So she was thrilled to see only Ruby and another woman holding a baby, sitting in the parlor room. They looked settled in the casual elegance of the room where hand stitched pillows lay on the sofa, and a dyed turquoise tapered vase welcomed conversation. She smiled at Ruby then introduced herself to the woman she assumed was Doran’s wife, Angie.