by Brenda Joyce
"You're going out too far," Slade called.
Regina turned with a smile and a wave. The water was knee-high now, and the hem of her skirts, even though she lifted them, was soaked. "It's not deep," she responded, flashing him a smile. And then she gasped, eyes widening, and plunked into the water with a splash.
"Oh!"
Even as she floundered, beating the water with her arms, she heard Slade thrashing through it at a run. A bare instant passed. His strong hands gripped her beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. She clung to him, soaked from head to toe.
"Are you all right?"
She coughed, exchanging folds of his shirt for a death-grip around his neck. "S-something bit me!" she gasped. Her little lie was already worth its weight in gold.
"Probably a crab," he said, his hands splaying out on her hips.
Regina was not listening. How could she? She could barely think. She was in Slade's embrace, clinging shamelessly to him, and she could feel every thrilling inch of him. "Slade," she murmured, raising her face to his.
She watched his gaze darkening, felt his hands tightening on her body. Triumph claimed her. This man was going to be her husband, this man was her fiance, and she was thrilled. Passion, sweet and heavy, flowed through her body.
"Damn," Slade said very softly. He started to push her away from him.
Regina reacted immediately. She shrieked, falling down again. Slade was taken by surprise and he went tumbling down with her-helped by the fact that she did not relinquish her grip on his neck for a single second.
For an instant the water claimed them, washing over them both. When Regina's head broke the surface she was in Slade's arms and between his legs, bobbing in the shallow water. She still had her hands looped about his neck, and their faces were very close.
His hands slid down to her bottom, pulling her even closer. As another breaking wave raced toward them, petering out, his hands tightened. The waved eddied around them. "Are you all right?" Slade asked hoarsely-"Yes," Regina whispered.
He didn't speak again. His eyes moved to her mouth, settling there enviously. Regina was not adverse to being brazen. She twisted until she was practically lying on top of him, the water supporting them both. If he'd needed a hint, he got it now-either that, or he'd lost the last of his willpower. His lips covered hers. Regina was both surprised and pleased to find that his mouth was open, wet, and warm, salty from the sea, and demanding. Never had she dreamed a kiss could be so intimate, so powerful. His tongue stroked hers. Their mouths fused. Her breasts strained against his chest, while he kept her pressed firmly against his loins. The feel of him there was hot, hard, and electric.
A renegade wave, bigger and bolder than the rest, broke close to them and swept over them in a froth of whitecaps. Slade lunged to his feet, taking her with him, breaking the kiss. Regina could not stand. Her pounding heart was thundering in her ears. Slade lifted her effortlessly into his arms, plowing through the surf and to the shore.
Regina stole glances at him, breathless and dazed. Reality crashed hard over her when he finally slipped her to her feet in the warm sand. She staggered against him and he steadied her, but with one hand, careful to keep her at a distance. She gazed at him hopefully but his face was inscrutable. There was no sign of the passion they had just shared.
"Slade?"
His jaw flexed. His eyes sped from her anxious expression down her wet, clinging clothes to her naked toes. "We'd better go back and change."
"Of course." She plucked at his sleeve. "I don't mind," she said, very bravely, "I don't mind that you kissed me."
He gave her a long grim look. His obvious displeas- ure stunned her. Abruptly he took her hand, but there was nothing personal about the gesture. It was exceedingly difficult to walk in her wet, heavy skirts and he was only supporting her. He led her up the beach toward the path, not speaking again. Regina was dismayed, unable to think of anything other than the wonderful intimacy they had shared, which had somehow escaped them as swiftly as it had embraced them.
Just before supper Slade came to her doors. They were closed for privacy, although she would have preferred leaving them ajar in order to enjoy the evening's sea breeze. She had been reading and now she set the magazine aside, her palms growing damp at the sound of his voice. Quickly she patted her hair into place, smoothing down her skirts, going to the door.
"We're sitting down to eat," he said. "I thought I'd come and get you."
For a moment she didn't move. His presence emitted a restless, forceful energy that filled up the space around her, that she could actually feel. She wondered if he had been half as preoccupied that afternoon with thoughts of her as she had been with him. She doubted it. The screen doors, closed between them, obscured his expression from her view, but even if they hadn't, she was sure that she wouldn't see what she wanted to see in his gaze.
He moved impatiently. Regina slipped outside. She could see Slade clearly now and his expression was guarded. What she wouldn't give for another earnest smile! She guessed that it was an old habit for him to hide his thoughts and emotions from everyone; she also thought that he tried even harder to disguise them from her. But the day would come, she hoped, when Slade would eagerly share his feelings with her. She felt determined to make that day happen.
Regina had entertained a few logical doubts about their marriage that afternoon. It had occurred to her that it would not be easy marrying a man like Slade under the best of circumstances, much less the worst. Yet logic could not convince her to change her mind. She had cast her lot in with his, for better or for worse. She wanted to see Slade's soft side again for her own reassurance, but her anxious smile did not change his set expression. She was stricken with the horrific thought that he had been having logical doubts that afternoon as well.
They moved across the courtyard. Outside of the dining room, he paused, touching her lightly. "I haven't said anything yet. No one knows. I'll tell them now."
Her stomach had been knotted; now it relaxed. He wasn't going to change his mind. So, if logic were to rule the day, she would have to be the one to naysay him. She hesitated, then knew she would not. Unreasonably, she could not.
Her brief moment of doubt must have showed, for he suddenly straightened. Very coolly, he said, "Gonna back out?"
"No," she whispered. "I gave you my word and I intend to keep it."
"A lady with honor," he said flatly. The tension slowly drained from his shoulders. "Let's go in."
Everyone was waiting for them in the den. Victoria had dressed for supper, as had Regina. Edward's mother was slim and beautiful, and elegant despite the fact that her red gown was more than a few years outdated. A strand of rubies was looped around her throat. Regina could see at a glance that they were glass and paste; of co
urse, she was clued in to the dire straits at Miramar and rubies were outrageously expensive.
Edward slouched against one wall, sipping a glass of red wine, the perfect picture of a splendid male in a moment of indolence. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he was the epitomy of refinement, and terribly handsome, more so when he flashed her his fabulous smile. Rick had been pacing the living area, still in his work shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had not bothered to dress for dinner, but then, neither had Slade.
Slade wore a worn white shirt and blue jeans that were so faded they were dappled gray. Until that instant Regina had not looked closely at him, but now she was shocked. The shirt he was wearing was the one she had worn the night of the storm. Her breath caught in her chest and then her blood began to race.
Hot color flooded her face. No one else could possibly know that they had shared that shirt, but she knew. For an unguarded instant she stared at him, remembering how the shirt had felt on her naked breasts, how it had smelled, remembering the intimacy the dark stormy night had created, remembering the urgency that had throbbed to life between them.
"There you are!" Rick exclaimed. "I'm so hungry I could eat a bear!" Then he grinned. "You two look cozy."
Slade's hand found the middle of Regina's back. She tensed, surprised at the intimate gesture, but that was nothing compared to the surprise his next words generated. He said, very quietly, "Elizabeth has agreed to become my wife."
His choice of words rooted her to the spot. He could have chosen a dozen other ways to declare their intentions; he could have merely said that they were getting married. Their marriage was ultimately a sham, yet he had made the statement very possessive and very personal. Regina did not know what to think.
Victoria stared. Edward was still. Rick was the only one who didn't seem surprised and he shouted with glee. "This calls for a celebration! We'll open a bottle of that fancy French champagne that James brought home when…" He stopped abruptly. A vast silence filled the room and Josephine could be heard singing in the kitchen several doors away.
"That James brought home the last time he went to London to visit Elizabeth two years ago," Victoria finished.
"Aw, hell." Rick shoved his hands in the pockets of his corduroy pants. "Me and my big mouth."
"Don't bother apologizing," Slade said tightly. He had removed his hand from Regina's back.
"It was an innocent slip," Rick said. "There's no cause to get all fired up."
"Drop it," Slade warned.
Edward came to life. He moved quickly forward and smacked Slade on the back. "All I can say is that I'm glad you've come to your senses." He grinned. Then he turned to Regina. "You, my dear, are the perfect bride- every man's dream, in fact." He looped his arm around her shoulders. "Welcome to the family."
She swallowed nervously. Slade looked like he wanted to kill his father. Or maybe it was Edward he was less than thrilled with now. "Thank you."
"I want you to know that I've had my fingers crossed regarding this particular event," Edward said, winking. "I cannot think of a man and a woman better suited to one another. Trust me on that, Elizabeth."
Slade lanced them both with a dark look. "Don't trust him too much."
Edward looked back at him very thoughtfully and then removed his arm from Regina's shoulder. He turned to Victoria. "Aren't you going to say something, Mother? Other than what you've already said?"
Victoria smiled a bit stiffly. "Congratulations."
Regina managed a thank-you.
"You two set a date yet?" Rick asked.
"Sunday," Slade said.
Regina started. Quickly she turned to Slade, who still stood beside her, and she touched his wrist. Instantly she had his complete attention. "Don't you think," she began, her voice low, "that maybe we should wait just-"
He cut her off. "No. Sunday. This Sunday."
Her heart was pounding harder than it should now. When she had agreed to marry him she had not thought that it would be in a few days! She had assumed it would be in a few months or even longer. Ripples of shock much like the waves she had watched that day washed over her.
"Well, Sunday is just fine!" Rick cried, coming over to them and hugging Regina. "Don't fret so. It's usual for gals to get all nervous and fluttery before a wedding. That right, Victoria?"
Everyone turned to look at Victoria, who had walked over to the sideboard and was pouring herself a glass of white wine. "I wasn't nervous before my wedding," she said. "But then again, I wasn't engaged to your brother before I married you, now was I, Rick?"
"That's enough," Rick said angrily.
Regina had the childish urge to run from the room. Why hadn't Slade told her that they would rush this wedding through? Did he doubt her word? Did he think she would change her mind? She wasn't, even though it was insane to marry a virtual stranger. Yet it was becoming more and more apparent that marrying into this family would be no easy task. There were too many hidden currents eddying around her, too many strong personalities and too much conflict. Everyone, it seemed, was a player in this little drama that should have belonged exclusively to her and Slade. She wanted their marriage to belong exclusively to her and Slade! And there most definitely was a plot, one which hinged around her. Regina did not like remembering that she was an heiress and that Miramar was bankrupt.
"Damn right it's enough," Slade said furiously. "Let's put all the cards out on the table, why don't we, Victoria? We all know you can't stand me and the truth is, I only stand you because you're the mother of my brother. And we all know why you're so damn unhappy right now. Well, if s too bad. I-not Edward-am marrying Elizabeth, and I am inheriting Miramar-not Edward. And if you really cared about your son, you'd be happy, because he doesn't want to be tied down to any woman just like he doesn't want to be tied down to Miramar."
Silence greeted Slade's harsh words. Regina was shocked. Victoria wanted her to marry Edward? Was this some kind of backup plan? If Slade had refused to marry her, would Edward now be courting her? She was appalled; she felt sick.
"Bravo," Edward said finally, clapping. "I couldn't have been more succinct myself, Slade. Mother, could you possibly apologize to the lucky groom and his bride?"
Victoria's breasts were heaving. "No," she said. "I won't apologize. I won't apologize for wanting for my son what this hoodlum is getting." She strode from the room.
Rick sighed. "That woman is impossible. And I'm getting tired of it." He looked at Edward. "If it weren't for you, I'd toss her out on her ear."
Edward shrugged. "Then it's a good thing that I'm here, isn't it?" He turned to Regina with a friendly smile and held out his hand. "Let's go in and sit down. Don't worry, Mother will grow accustomed to the idea of your marrying Slade, eventually."
Regina accepted his hand, but she could not smi
le. She could not even reply.
Victoria was so angry that she was shaking. Damn Slade! If only he hadn't come back! If only he would go back to Charles Mann and his life up north! He didn't deserve this-not Miramar, not the heiress, not any of it. Edward deserved it all.
She paced her room, the bedroom that she shared with Rick. It was an oversized chamber, the ceilings high, the floors warm pine that were covered with colorful throw rugs. A massive brass bed sat in the center, one big enough to accommodate her and Rick when they weren't speaking to one another and chose to he back-to-back; it also accommodated them quite nicely when they were engaged in their enterprising sexual activities.
She paced the room relentlessly, all the while thinking. How could she break up Slade and Elizabeth? How could she manipulate Slade into returning to San Francisco?
She knew, just as the entire family knew, that Slade loved Miramar. She wished that Edward possessed just a drop of his brother's passion for their home, but he didn't. She also knew that Slade was hot for Elizabeth; his lust was obvious to anyone who cared to notice. Yet Slade had had to consider the prospect of marrying her; for a while Victoria had thought he would refuse to do as Rick wanted, and that he was intending to leave Miramar as he always did. But she had been surprised.
They had all been surprised. He had suddenly had a change of heart.
Perhaps, with a little prodding, he would suddenly have another change of heart.
There was another angle, an easier one, because Slade, when he set his mind to something, was one of the most stubborn men she knew. That was a Delanza trait. The other angle was Elizabeth. She did not seem to be exactly thrilled with the idea of the marriage. She did not seem thrilled with Slade. She was anxious. A few minutes ago she had seemed actually horrified. Perhaps she needed a little prodding, too.