Yes, I Do

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Yes, I Do Page 30

by Gwynne Forster


  August laughed. Nothing she could have said would have reduced the tension quicker or made him laugh harder and longer.

  “Capital punishment.” To his amusement, she nodded slowly, as though weighing the pleasure against the consequence.

  She looked up expectantly with an air of innocence. “What rights does a bride have? I mean, wouldn’t the courts understand if she did something like that. Or, can she sue for…” He swallowed the end of her inquiry in a tender cherishing of her mouth.

  “That’s one question to which you don’t need the answer. Thank God, it’s all settled,” he breathed, his relief palpable. “We’re getting married in about two weeks and that ought to give you plenty of time to get a wedding dress. I want us to meet the minister of my church tomorrow night, if that suits you. The way things are going, we could sure use his blessings.”

  Susan backed away from him. “Get this in your head, August. I am not getting married in a church among a bunch of good sisters and brothers I never saw before, and the only reason I’ll wear a bridal gown and veil will be because Mandrake the Magician waved his magic wand and got us a date in the Rainbow Room. He’s long gone, so I’ll meet you down at the marriage bureau.”

  August ran his hands over his hair, took a deep breath, and she could see that he had trouble summoning his famous smile. “Sweetheart,” he began, almost haltingly. “You can’t mean that. I refuse to say my vows to you at that marriage factory with couples lined up and the clerk squeezing as many ceremonies as possible between his coffee break and his lunch. A beautiful woman like you should be more romantic, and I’m disappointed that you’re not.”

  She pulled air through her teeth and looked toward heaven, her patience ebbing. “Don’t joke, August, we’re having a fight. I’m sorry, but I don’t see why I have to put on the symbols of purity—male dominance, actually—and hide my face behind a veil just to get married. And since I haven’t been in a church since last Easter, it would be hypocritical to marry in one.”

  He spread his legs, folded his arms, and let a frown warn her of his answer. “And since I go to church every single Sunday, it would be out of character for me to get married any other place. I’m not giving in. I want to watch you walk toward me, your satin slippered feet crushing the rose petals I’ve strewn in your path. Just think how wonderful it will be when you approach me in a white satin gown and lacy veil, clutching the bouquet of white roses and lilies that I’ll send you and the altar shimmering in white lilies and soft candlelight. I don’t know if I can stand the wait.”

  She’d known he wouldn’t give in easily, but she hadn’t thought he’d go for the jugular first thing. She took a deep breath and raised to her full height. “You’re not going to win this one, August. Period. If you have your way about everything now, what will you be like when we’re married? I always thought marriage would be liberating, that I’d be free.” She thought for a second. “You know…like the Queen Bee, darting in and out of your arms as I pleased, but you’ve got too many fixed notions.” Her voice darkened, and her words came out slowly as though floating from her lips. “I wouldn’t mind standing beside you under a silvery sky with twinkling stars, a bold crescent moon and a snow-covered forest of glittering icicles all around us. The music would be soft and romantic. We’d create a special world. Beautiful. Spellbinding. Like that long ago New Year’s Eve in the Rainbow Room. Just think, August, instead of bridesmaids and best men, sprites and wood nymphs would skip out of the woods, waving their magic wands and sprinkling precious stardust as they frolicked around us.”

  Her deep sigh and obvious melancholy pulled at him. He’d give it to her, if he could. But he couldn’t and, anyway, the church was best. How was God going to make them one in something called a Rainbow Room? He doubted any angels knew where it was, and told her so.

  She grinned at him, though he could see she’d rather he saved the jokes. “Then I’m not wearing a wedding dress.”

  “Now, honey, I’ve always dreamed of seeing my bride in one of those dresses.” He didn’t know what he’d do if she wouldn’t change her mind, and he had begun to suspect that she wouldn’t.

  She looked at him for a long time, calculated her chances of changing his mind, and decided she didn’t have any. And she wasn’t going into that marriage handicapped by his notion that he could have anything he wanted.

  She shrugged. “I’m sorry, August, but I won’t do it. A woman is supposed to have the kind of wedding she wants, and—”

  His frown deepened. “You’re not interested in a wedding. All you want is to get hitched. Honey, we hitch up horses.” He looked steadily at her, the eyes she loved so much clouded with sadness. “I thought when we settled the matter of our babies, we were home free. Looks like we weren’t so lucky after all. Well, I guess this is it, huh?”

  She rubbed her arms, warming her suddenly cold flesh. “I suppose so. Let me know if you change your mind… Oh, August, can’t you give in just this once?”

  With his sad smile for an answer, she turned her back so that she wouldn’t see him leave her. “Give my regards to Grady.”

  “Sure.” She heard him say just before the door closed.

  August walked the two blocks over to Broadway, caught a taxi, and went home. Not even his joy in knowing that Grady awaited him banished his anguish. He stopped by his mailbox, collected his mail, and went up to his apartment.

  “Who robbed you?” Grady asked. “Wait a minute. What happened between you and Susan? Anybody would think you’d been given a death sentence.”

  That analogy was too accurate; she’d killed his dream. “We broke up.”

  Grady grimaced. “Man, what’s the matter with you two? Grace said—”

  “I don’t want to hear about Grace and her charts. Susan and I are perfect for each other until she gets stubborn.” He glared at his brother. “And you can keep your amusement to yourself.” He dropped the mail on the coffee table. “I’m damned if I’ll let her get away with it.” He’d like to wipe the grin from Grady’s mouth.

  “Get away with what?” Grady wanted to know. His bottom lip dropped and his eyes widened as August related his grievances. “That dame’s wet,” Grady told him. “If a man’s going to do a woman the favor of marrying her, he should at least have things his way. Good riddance.”

  August stared at his brother. “Are you being a smartass?”

  “Who me? Nah. I’m just telling it like you think it is.”

  August looked hard at Grady’s wicked twinkle, so like their father’s, and decided not to take the bait. He sat down, flipped through the mail, and his glance rested on an envelope that bore “Rainbow” in the upper left corner. His shaking fingers ripped it open and his gaze fastened on the word, Winner.

  “I don’t believe this,” August shouted, as he dashed to the telephone.

  “Susan, honey, it’s me, August. Get that dress, sweetheart, because we’re getting married in the Rainbow Room on Valentine’s Day.”

  “How? What about the church and…?”

  “I’m compromising. You get the Rainbow Room, and I get to see my bride in a wedding gown. Do you hear me, Susan? You listening?”

  “No. Yes. Of course I’m… Are you sure? Positive?”

  He read the letter to her and explained what he’d done. “I hoped, honey, but I didn’t put much faith in it.”

  He could feel her happiness. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry I said you were pigheaded.”

  A grin seemed to spread all over him. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I am sort of stubborn sometimes. When’s Ann coming?” He didn’t wait for her answer before he asked, “What kind of flowers do you want? Roses and lilies?”

  Happiness seemed to spring from her to him through the wires. “Any kind you send.”

  August waited, Grady at his side, and the mayor in front of him, as Susan approached, a vision in a dusty rose gown and matching hat. A grin claimed his face when he saw her. Her teary smile tore at his heart and, as she came near, he reached o
ut and took her hand to steady her. Hang custom; she needed his strength. Minutes later they were husband and wife, and he lifted her veil, looked into her eyes and said, “I will always be here for you, no matter what and no matter where…through thick and thin. Do you understand?” She nodded, and he kissed her. And he thought that only she cried, until, with her white gloved finger, she brushed the tears from beneath his eyes.

  Five minutes after their reception at the Waldorf began, August told Grady, “As soon as we cut the cake, we’re leaving. Give everyone our thanks.” As they left, he saw Grady lead Ann in a sultry dance and shook his head. Considering Grace’s record, he wouldn’t bet against them.

  He had suggested to Susan that she pack what she’d need for the night separately from her honeymoon luggage, which he’d sent to the airport for their two weeks in Honolulu. He took his bride to their bridal suite in the Waldorf where he’d ordered a cold supper and champagne.

  “We have two bathrooms, in case you want privacy,” he told her.

  “Why do I need privacy? If you insist on giving it to me, watch out. I could claim wife abuse, extreme mental cruelty, even temporary insanity for my crime.”

  He grinned. She was wonderful, a challenge that made a man’s blood heat up.

  “Come here, Susan.” He suppressed a laugh as she sashayed boldly toward him. “Yes?”

  “How do you get out of this thing?” She turned around, and he began the pleasure of making her his wife. He got as far as her bra and panties, and she folded her arms across her breasts. It occurred to him then that she had been silent from the time he began to undress her, and he altered his approach, stopped and let his gaze drift over her. That seemed to embarrass her more, so he took her in his arms, and whispered words of encouragement.

  “You’re so beautiful, honey, I want to look at you. I’ve waited so long.” He let his fingers skim lightly over her flesh in the most sensual, arousing way, barely touching her, as he told her how much he wanted her and the pleasure he planned for her. He sensed that she relaxed, and kissed her lips fleetingly, but she clung as though not wanting to separate from him, and he offered her his tongue. Immediately, she took it, savoring it with gusto. Then he unhooked her bra and watched her beautiful breasts spill into his waiting hands. He stroked her nipples until her sighs told him that she needed more, and he bent his head and took her fully into his hungry mouth. Her undulations told him that dinner and the champagne would wait, and he carried her to their bed, careful not to make her anxious. As she lay there looking up at him, she covered her breasts again, and he had to hide his concern. He disrobed quickly and joined her.

  “You seem tense, honey. Are you tired? Would you rather wait?” She shot up and leaned over him.

  “Don’t you dare. I wasn’t kidding about psychological wife abuse. I’m just nervous.”

  He let out a long breath. Thank God, she didn’t want him to wait another day. “What can I do to put you at ease?”

  She buried her face in his neck.

  “Just take it a little slow—I’m…I’m new at this.”

  Right then, he wished he had a bag of beetle nut, which was what many men in India chewed on to distract themselves at such times. He leaned over her and began gently to stroke her arms and to nuzzle her throat, but her impatience delighted him. “What do you want, baby? Anything. Just tell me.” She led his hand to her breast, and he toyed with it until she wanted to scream. At last he pulled the nipple into his mouth and intensified her torment while he moved his body over hers rhythmically. The feel of his hard, hot penis rubbing against her vulva made her cry out in frustration. He kissed his way down her body, twirled his tongue into her navel, spread her legs and sucked her clitoris until screams poured out of her.

  “Something’s happening to me. I ache deep inside. August, honey, I can't stand this. I want to burst. Do something, honey. Please.”

  “I will, baby. But it’s going to hurt, and I can’t help that, honey.”

  “I know it’s supposed to hurt? Can’t you—”

  He drove in with one thrust, and when she cried out, he kissed her tears and her eyes, cherishing her. She smiled through her tears. “Who’s supposed to start, you or me?”

  He grinned down at her and began to move. “That’s it, baby. Come with me.” Then he increased his speed and the power of his strokes, driving mercilessly until the tremors began, swelling began at the bottom of her feet and her hot blood raced to her vagina. He held back, teasing, but she grab bed his buttocks, wrapped her legs around his hips and undulated beneath him stroke for stroke. She thought the clutching and squeezing would kill her, but he gripped her closer and unleashed his power, storming and raging inside of her, dragging ever ounce of passion from her until she erupted around him, capturing his penis in her woman’s claws until he cried aloud and exploded within her as he rocked them to the stratosphere.

  She screamed in ecstasy. “Darling. August, darling. I love you so!”

  He had tried to assure himself that she’d been completely fulfilled, but the sound of her crying his name in passion precipitated his powerful release, and he gave her the essence of himself. Their passion subsided slowly as he brushed kisses over her face, cherishing her.

  “Why did you pretend to be sophisticated?”

  “I didn’t pretend—I am. Well, about a lot of things, I am. Are you unhappy about me?” He rolled to his side, bringing her with him.

  “I’d never given the amount of experience you’d had or hadn’t had a single thought. You gave me something precious, and I wouldn’t change you for anything. It did surprise me, though.”

  “It didn’t happen by choice. When I watched some of my college classmates moving from one fellow to the next, it turned me off of the whole business, and I swore that if I never fell in love, I’d miss it. I fell in love with you, and I didn’t want to wait a minute longer. But you had your own game plan. I’m not sorry, though.” She rubbed her nose against his and let her fingers gently skim his forehead. “I may never say these words again, but this time you knew best.”

  He pulled her close to his side.

  “Don’t tell me things like that. I’ll think I’m in bed with the wrong woman.”

  Susan lay beside August, uncertain as to what she had contributed to their lovemaking. He’d been right in insisting that they wait. He’d given her a chance to learn to love him, but if love had been his only criteria, he needn’t have waited. She leaned over him and walked her fingers over his chest. Getting no response, she lifted the sheet and investigated his body. She hadn’t realized that she licked her lips until he asked. “Look good to you?” Her eyes widened in astonishment.

  “Where is…I mean…”

  August grinned and pulled her over on top of him.

  “Just resting. Ah, sweetheart, you’re wonderful. I don’t know how I ever lived without you. I love you so much, honey.”

  She braced herself with her hands on either side of him.

  “You do? You really do? And you’re happy with me after…well, you know?”

  August stared at his bride of five and a half hours. “You didn’t realize it? You’re perfect for me in every way, Susan. I fell in love with you in Grace’s taxi the day we met. Honey, Grace’s charts had nothing to do with this. I was in for keeps before you’d barely gotten in that car. Couldn’t you feel it? Why do you think I asked you to marry me?”

  “That’s funny. That’s when I fell in love with you. Maybe Grace is right. Maybe we really are a perfect match.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5618-1

  YES, I DO

  © 2010 by Harlequin Enterprises S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:

  NOW AND FOREVER

  Copyright © 2010 by Gwendolyn Johnson Acsadi

  LOVE FOR A LIFETIME

  First published by BET Books in Wedding Bells

  Copyright © 1999 by Gwendolyn Johnson Acsadi

  A PERFECT MATCH<
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  First published by Pinnacle Books in I Do!

  Copyright © 1998 by Gwendolyn Johnson Acsadi

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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