“Hello, honey. I told you I’d be here with open arms,” he said with a smile.
Ruth beamed up at him. “Well, I see you standing here, but I don’t see any open arms, mister.”
“Then you’re not looking hard enough. Come here, sweetheart,” he said as he swept her into his arms.
The kiss he laid on her was enough to stop quite a few observers in their tracks. Ruth couldn’t have cared less about the onlookers; all she cared about was the tender passion his touch elicited in her. She felt alive, more exhilarated and excited than she had in years. The slight tickle of his moustache, the softness of his lips and the eager caress of his tongue made her forget everything except the feel of his strong arms around her waist. They pulled away from each other with great reluctance and simply stared at each other for a long moment. Neither one wanted to be the first to break the enchanted silence; they just wanted it to last forever. Forever wasn’t very long, however, as they clearly heard the comment of an older woman standing nearby.
“See, Harry? I’ve told you and told you that married people do too kiss like that. You’d better get on the case, buster, or get used to sleeping in the guest room.”
The spell was broken, but it dissolved into laughter. “You look incredibly beautiful, honey. As soon as your bags materialize the driver will get them and we’ll be on our way, how’s that?”
“It’s perfect,” Ruth told him. “You look quite dashing yourself. I love that hat. Most men don’t have the panache to wear one so well.”
Mac touched the brim in a rakish gesture and smiled wickedly. “That’s because most men don’t have my good taste. Besides, I can’t take it when my head gets cold,” he admitted. “And that’s a stylish chapeau you’re wearing as well. Doesn’t seem possible, but you look even prettier than usual.”
Ruth was wearing her cream cashmere coat with stylish wide-legged matching pants. Her cowl-necked sweater was a soft mint-green and her jaunty beret matched it, making her skin vibrantly warm and giving her eyes an extra glow. “Julian, you flatter me way too much,” she scolded. “I’ll give you exactly sixty minutes to stop it.”
He took her arm with a laugh and began to lead her to the baggage carousel. “By then we’ll be in the city in our suite. Until then, I get to say anything to you I please.”
Ruth stopped walking and turned to face Mac. “Then I get to react any way I like. And it may involve a lot of these,” she said demurely as she stood on tiptoe to press her lips to his.
“See, Harry? Take a lesson, why don’t you. Those two have probably been married for years and the thrill is still there. Look and learn, you old coot.”
Ruth and Mac glanced at the older couple, who were apparently still studying their technique, then looked at each other and burst into affectionate and very pleased laughter.
Mac kept his word and continued to shower Ruth with sweet, teasing compliments as their limousine purred through the traffic. Ruth kept hers, too, and snuggled next to him on the spacious and comfortable seat.
“You have incredible skin, Ruth. It’s the color and texture of Tupelo honey, did you know that?”
Ruth looked down at their hands, which were tightly entwined. “Actually, no I didn’t know that, Julian. Thank you,” she whispered and put a small kiss at the corner of his mouth. It had been years since she was seriously involved with a man, but being with him felt so natural and sweet it was easy for her to allow a little of her natural affection to slip out.
Mac had removed his hat and she ran her hand through his hair, loving the silky feel of it ‘There. Now you look even sexier. It’s ridiculous that you Deveraux men are all so good-looking. How in the world does one family have so many handsome men in the family tree?”
He laughed heartily and put his arm around her shoulders to bring her even closer to his body. “Please don’t let my sons hear you say anything remotely close to that. They’re already way too conceited.”
“How is that possible? Paris is a true beauty and she’s one of the most levelheaded young women I’ve ever met. She’s not conceited in the least,” Ruth murmured. The smell of Mac’s cologne was intoxicating, mixing with his natural body scent to create a giddy sensation in the pit of her stomach that was most pleasurable. Mac didn’t seem to hear her comment; he was too busy angling his head down for another kiss. Ruth sighed with enjoyment and was so busy returning the caress she didn’t notice that the limo had stopped in front of the hotel. The driver got out to open her door and as he helped her out of the back seat she got a good look at the place they would be spending the next few days.
“The W Hotel? I’ve read about these but I’ve never stayed at one,” Ruth admitted.
“Then prepare yourself for an amazing weekend, honey. The sky isn’t the limit here, it’s just the beginning.” Mac took her arm and led her into a lobby that was unlike anything she’d ever imagined.
Warm earth tones, flattering lighting, furniture that looked sinfully comfortable, and smiling associates welcomed them and the check-in process went so quickly Ruth wasn’t even aware of what was going on. The next thing she knew, they were being shown into a suite that looked like a movie set and the bellman was deftly bringing in their luggage.
“Have a pleasant stay, Mr. and Mrs. Deveraux. If there’s anything we can do to make your visit more complete, don’t hesitate to let us know,” he said with a small bow.
Mac was taking Ruth’s coat off while she mulled over the bellman’s words. She took off her beret and fluffed her hair by running her fingers through it. “Julian, that’s the third time someone has mistaken us for man and wife,” she began.
He hung both their overcoats in the spacious closet and turned to her with a smile and four fingers held up. “Actually, that was the fourth time. The staff of the ice cream place in Atlanta, the couple at the airport, the bellman and the limousine driver. While I was giving him a tip he said he hoped we enjoyed our anniversary. He assumed we were in town celebrating,” he said with a smug smile.
Ruth could feel her cheeks turn hot. “Ahh. Doesn’t that umm, bother you?” she asked timidly.
Mac walked the few steps to Ruth and put his hands around her waist. “Bother me? Hell, no, it makes me proud. If people think we’re a couple it means they think I’m man enough to have a lovely woman like you in my life. Why in the world would that bother me, honey?”
The giggle she’d been trying to keep at bay escaped as she put one hand on his cheek. “Most men would run screaming to the hills if it happened to them. Most men value their freedom more than their lives, Julian. I can’t think of a single unmarried man who’d actually enjoy being mistaken for a husband.”
Suddenly she breathed deeper as Mac tightened his arms around her and held her closer than close. “That’s because you haven’t met a man like me,” he growled softly. “New York is waiting for us, honey. What do you want to do first?”
They did everything, or almost everything they could think of. The maid service unpacked their clothes while they had lunch in one of the hotel’s restaurants. Despite the February chill in the air, they did a lot of walking and holding hands. They went ice-skating at Rockefeller Center, they window-shopped and browsed in bookstores and record stores, and at Ruth’s insistence they went into one of the hundreds of Duane Reade drugstores that seemed to spring up on every corner.
“I love makeup,” she confessed. “Makeup and bubble bath and shampoo and whatnot and I love to buy it at drugstores and discount stores. The selection here is just amazing,” she said as she stared at the rows and rows of items just waiting to be purchased.
“Don’t overload in here,” he cautioned. “Tomorrow we’re going to Barney’s and Bloomie’s and Bergdorf’s and I have a feeling you’ll want to pick up just a few things here and there.”
“Well, you’ve got me there. But I have to get some of this lotion,” she said excitedly. “I get it from my hairdresser in Chicago and it’s like ten dollars a bottle! It’s only three-fifty here.�
�� She took five bottles of Razac lotion off the shelf but before she could get to the checkout Mac was already in line paying for it. He said he was doing it to save time, but she had her doubts.
“We have tickets to The Color Purple and I thought you might like to rest a little before we get ready to leave,” he said innocently. His tone didn’t fool Ruth for a minute, though. Julian Deveraux was a man who wouldn’t let a woman open her purse for as much as a package of gum. She should have recognized that as another Deveraux characteristic. She accepted the inexpensive lotion with a smile, but resolved to not let him spend too much money on her. There was no telling what he might get into in a city like New York.
Chapter 6
Their evening together was as wonderful as the day had been. They went back to the hotel where they spent the afternoon talking until Ruth fell asleep in his arms. They were cuddled up next to each other on the massive sofa with the some wonderful music playing and before she realized what had transpired, Ruth was blinking her eyes and purring with enjoyment as she stretched against Mac’s warmth. Her mouth formed an O of embarrassment and she got flustered.
“Oh, please tell me I didn’t fall asleep on you! Did I snore or snort or do anything else disgusting and unladylike?”
“Ruth, you make me laugh more than any other woman I’ve ever met,” Mac said appreciatively. “Honey, you curled up like a little cat and you looked so sweet and rested I went to sleep with you. I slept very well, too. But now it’s time to get ready for the play if we intend to make the curtain.”
Taking him at his word, Ruth took a long hot shower in clouds of Goldleaf, one of her favorite fragrances. She used liberal amounts of the lotion and sprayed on a mist of the scent before putting on her silk lingerie. As she put on her bikini briefs and matching bra, she took a good long look in the mirror and even though vanity wasn’t an essential part of her nature, she was happy with what she saw. Her body was still firm and tight without even a stretch mark. She frowned a little, reflecting that if things had worked out the way she’d planned she’d bear the marks of having four or five children. Probably be plump and happy about it, she mused. Even her breasts didn’t have the inevitable sag of a woman her age, but she was never terribly busty. There are some advantages to being a B-cup, I guess. She used her travel-sized ceramic curling iron to bump a few curls into her hair before applying her makeup.
Finally she was ready to slip into her ensemble, a simple raw silk dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves with an empire waist. It stopped just above her knees and it was a buttery shade of ivory that brought out her skin color. She had on a little gold eye shadow and a rich caramel lipstick, to which she added a gold gloss. In her ears she wore a set of diamond studs, a set of big Tahitian pearl drops and she added a matching bracelet consisting of a double row of pearls that matched the earrings. She stepped into her gold sling back pumps and picked up her small gold evening bag with the crystals and faux pearls and decided she was ready to go. She left her bedroom to join Mac in the living room and was touched by his greeting. Not only did he stand up when she entered, he looked at her as though he’d recently arrived on this planet and she was the first specimen of woman he’d ever seen.
“Beautiful. Just beautiful. Now let me get your coat or we won’t be leaving here tonight, trust me.” He smiled down at her from his towering height and as if he couldn’t resist, he kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. “I wish I hadn’t done that,” he said with a mock sigh. “You smell so good I could eat you up with a small spoon. Let’s get out of here, woman, or I’ll prove it to you.” And he whisked her out of the suite before she could say a word in protest.
The next morning, Mac didn’t think he would ever get out of the shower. The water had been set to its most forceful setting and he’d gradually turned the dial until the water ran as cold as he could stand it. It was either stand in the frigid water like a horny college boy or grab Ruth and pull her into a totally different kind of shower. He could imagine all too well what her body would feel like pressed against his with warm water cascading over them and the tempting fragrance of Ruth’s luxurious bath gel arousing his senses even more. He groaned aloud in frustration as this kind of thinking was what got him in the cold shower in the first place. He abruptly turned off the water and stepped out of the stall, wrapped a towel around his waist and stared at his reflection.
He was in good shape for a man of his age. Actually, his body was exceptional for a man of any age. When he was growing up he’d been remarkably skinny, filling out gradually as he reached maturity. He was still lean and hard, mostly because of his ingrained habit of working out. It had started in the Army when calisthenics were part of his daily routine. He continued to stay in shape after he married, but it was mostly passionate lovemaking and chasing his lively toddlers around that kept him agile. After his wife died, however, running, rowing and long workouts in the gym kept him sane. It was how he subliminated his sorrow and rage but it also made him look like a much younger man. His chest wasl covered with black silky hair and his shoulders were broad and muscular. There was very little chance that he would repulse Ruth once he got her where he so desperately wanted her, which was in his arms and his bed. Ruth Bennett was a special treat; like a luscious, rich and totally unexpected dessert after a decadently delicious dinner. She was everything he’d been looking for in a woman for a lot of long, lonely years and the previous night had only made him even more positive than before that she was the right one.
When Ruth had walked into the living room of the suite dressed for their night on the town, Mac was stunned. Not just because of her poise and elegance, although God knows she looked beyond gorgeous. He was stunned because a sensation he hadn’t felt in years overcame him, taking his breath away completely. It was as though she walked out of the bedroom and right into his heart. There was something about Ruth that moved him profoundly, something that touched him in a way that hadn’t occurred since his beloved wife had left this world. When he playfully kissed her forehead and her nose and inhaled the feminine fragrance that graced her from head to toe, he felt a rush of desire flow through him like a torrent of summer rain. He wasn’t kidding when he said they had to get out of the suite right then and there or he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next. Leaving was the best thing to do, definitely. But spending the evening with her did nothing to lessen the passionate yearning he was feeling.
The musical was as good as it was reputed to be and they enjoyed it thoroughly. After the play they took a hansom carriage ride through Central Park, a time-honored romantic gesture that delighted Ruth to no end. “Julian, how sweet you are! I’ve always wanted to do this,” she’d told him. The pleasure on her face was more than enough thanks for him; he really didn’t need to hear the words. The weather cooperated fully, yielding a light snow that made the night seem more magical, besides giving Mac an excuse to wrap his arms around her. They missed most of the sights to be seen because they were too busy kissing and talking to each other in soft whispers. By the time they returned to the hotel, Mac was a mess. He wanted Ruth, not just for a night or a few nights, but for as long as she would give him the pleasure of her company. He looked down at her animated face, alight with enjoyment, and knew he had to go slow or risk losing her forever. It was the going slow part that was going to be difficult.
They decided to have a midnight supper when they returned to the suite. Ruth was totally enthusiastic about the hotel’s “whenever, whatever” service. It didn’t just apply to room service; anything a guest requested could be obtained through the hotel’s staff. Mac had to smile as he remembered the avid interest Ruth showed in the many informational brochures.
“Julian, if I want a milk bath, or a massage, or a mariachi band, we could get it tonight. That’s amazing!”
“Would you like a milk bath? Just give me the word and I’ll have them get it started for you,” Mac offered.
“Nah, I can’t stand the thought of wasting all that milk wh
en people are starving to death. I have an idea though; why don’t we get out of these clothes and put on something comfortable and order something nice? Do you like strawberries?”
Mac tried to concentrate on shaving while he recalled the rest of the evening. They had gone to their respective bedrooms and changed. He’d taken off his custom-tailored suit and put on his Xavier University warm-up suit, the new one he’d only had for a few weeks. When he emerged from the bedroom, Ruth was curled up on the sofa playing with the remote for the television. “They have those all-music channels,” she told him. “What’s your favorite kind?”
“Jazz, of course, but I also like R&B and rock. And I have a real passion for the blues,” he replied. “How about you?”
“I love jazz, too. And Motown and R& B and blues. But I have a particular love for a certain kind of music,” she teased. “You’ll never believe me if I tell you and the information may make you despise me,” she’d said with a mischievous smile.
“Good Lord,” Mac said with mock alarm all over his face. “Is it polka music? Heavy metal? Hip-hop?”
Ruth threw her head back and laughed. “No, no, no, although I do like hip-hop. My secret vice is doo-wop music. My sister loved it and I guess that’s where I got it from. I just adore it and I go out of my way to listen to it, so you might want to reconsider this liaison, Julian. Can you put up with a little doo-wop from time to time?”
By way of answer, Julian sang a few bars of “I Only Have Eyes forYou” and laughed when Ruth’s jade eyes widened with delight.
Just then room service discreetly knocked at the door and Ruth rose to let them in. She looked over her shoulder at Mac as she went to let the server in. “You really are a dangerous man. Handsome, funny and you sing like Nat King Cole. I’m in trouble, aren’t 1?”
Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9) Page 5