by Ann Jacobs
“Hello, Eli. It’s good to hear from you.” Eli’s mother sounded the way Maggie had imagined she would after looking at her photo on Eli’s bureau—sweet, with just a hint of a Texas country twang in her voice. A welcoming sound. A sound that chased away some of her trepidation.
“Hi, Mom. I’ve got a surprise for you. Maggie Berman’s here beside me, and she’s foolish enough to have agreed to be my wife. Say ‘Hi,’ sweetheart.”
Maggie shot Eli a surprised look. “How are you, Mrs. Calhoun?”
“Oh, my God, my boy’s certain to give me a heart attack yet if he doesn’t quit springing surprises on me! Tell me all about yourself. How you and Eli met, where and when you’re gonna tie the knot. How long has my naughty son been keeping you all to himself?”
Maggie squeezed Eli’s hand for courage, but still her voice came out squeaky, not at all like the self-confident surgeon she knew she should project. “We work together, ma’am. I’m one of the surgical residents Eli supervises. We’ve known each other about six months, since he came to San Antonio and started working at the hospital, but…”
Eli broke in. “She’s too embarrassed to tell you I swept her off her feet less than a week ago, Mom. I’m past the age of dawdling now that I’ve found the woman I want to live with for the rest of our lives. The wedding will be as soon as you can get yourself off the ranch and down here to see us tie the knot.”
“Wait a minute, Eli. Have you thought that Maggie might like a bit more of a ceremony than it sounds like you’re planning?”
His mother obviously didn’t realize Eli was a Dom, but Maggie appreciated her concern. “It’s all right, ma’am. We both want a small wedding, just our friends here—and families who want to come.”
“That’s good then. My son never did want to wait once he made up his mind what it was he wanted.” She paused, as if she was thinking of Eli as a child…a teenager…a young man graduating from medical school. Maggie could hear the love and pride in her voice and knew Eli had never known anything but his mom’s love and pride. “You’ll have your job, making my big lug of a son toe the line. I’ll see how soon I can get somebody to cover for me at the Founder’s Day celebration and let you know how soon I can get away.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at Eli. I like your mom.
He grinned back at her then spoke. “Do it quickly, Mom. I want to lasso this filly before she gets away.”
“Now, son. Be patient. How far away do Maggie’s parents live?” She paused then spoke to Maggie. “Will it take more than a day or two to get your folks down to San Antonio? You don’t want to rush them.”
“They live in Chicago.” Maggie doubted her mom and dad would make the trip. After all, the last event in her life that they’d shared with her was…hell, she didn’t remember. Was it her high school graduation, when she’d been valedictorian? Of course. They only attended events where she was being honored as number one. “If they want to come, they can get here in a matter of hours.”
“If they want to come? You mean they might not?” Eli’s mom sounded scandalized, but no less enthusiastic than she’d been before Maggie’s revelation.
Eli spoke, his tone sympathetic. “We haven’t told Mr. and Mrs. Berman yet. I wanted to let you know first.”
“Of course. Welcome to the family, Maggie. We’re all gonna love you, just like Eli does.”
After exchanging goodbyes, she hung up. “Dial your folks’ number now, sweetheart.”
“They’re not likely to welcome you with open arms the way your mom did me.” Oh, yes. They’d be civil. Never let it be said that David and Miriam Berman ever behaved in a less than socially correct manner. But she didn’t want Eli to expect the sort of spontaneous joy she’d heard from his mom. Reluctantly, she dialed the number that hadn’t changed for as long as she could remember.
Then she took several shallow breaths as the phone rang once, twice, three times. Maybe they’d be out. She hoped so.
No such luck. Maggie heard the click of the receiver, the stern sound of her father’s voice. “Berman residence.”
Not “hello.” He couldn’t even give in that little bit to popular culture. It was if he and her mother were caught in a time warp and had never been able to break free. “It’s me, Margaret,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady even though her body was trembling uncontrollably. “I’m engaged.”
A sharp intake of breath came through the speakers, loud and clear. “Engaged?”
She was about to speak when Eli clamped a hand over her mouth. “Yes. I’m Elijah Calhoun, and Maggie and I plan to get married as soon as it can be arranged. We want you to come share our big day.”
Her father sputtered. “This is a shock. Mother and I have never met you, Mr. Calhoun.”
“Doctor Calhoun,” Maggie said, slipping out from under Eli’s hand over her mouth. “I’m one of Eli’s residents in thoracic surgery—chest traumas are his specialty, and I’ve been taking a rotation with him.” Please, God, let my father not subject Eli to the third degree. For once, make him happy for us.
“Mother! Margaret has some disturbing news,” her father called out.
That made her furious as well as hurt. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, only to tell you I’m in love and thrilled that Eli has asked me to marry him. We’re going to do it in the next week or two, as soon as his mom can get here. Nothing big, just a few good friends and hopefully our respective parents.”
Eli took over, thankfully, though Maggie would have spared him. While she’d expected him to exert the sort of control he demonstrated when dealing with difficult OR staff, he stayed amazingly low key, answering her cold, formal parents’ pointed questions even though they were asked in a disapproving tone, barely within the definition of civility. “Yes. I have no intention of holding your daughter back professionally,” he responded to the question of whether he intended to allow her to pursue her career. He answered questions as to his ability to support her, his background…even his ethnic background, a whole lot more cheerfully than she’d imagined he would.
“What day can you get here to witness your daughter’s wedding?” Eli asked, neatly cutting off the inquisition before the anger apparent in his expression and in his tightly clenched fists spilled over into his voice.
“I don’t know,” Maggie’s mother said, her tone hesitant. “David?”
Maggie heard the familiar sound of her father clearing his throat, letting out a loud sigh. They weren’t going to come. Just as she thought. But Eli kept on the pressure. “Well, Mr. Berman. Do we wait for you to get here, or does your silence mean you’re not coming?”
“We will let you know,” her father finally said. “Mother and I need to talk.”
Hugging Maggie, Eli brushed gentle kisses over her face, licking away the tears she hadn’t been able to hold back. “Don’t know if they’ll come see us get married or not, but I hope they do, for your sake.”
“Thank you. As long as your mom comes, I’ll be content.” And that was the truth. Maggie might never have parents who loved her for herself, but she had Eli, her Master and her love. “You really love me, don’t you?”
“I do. Gotta practice for saying that on our big day.” With that, he swept her into his arms and carried her to their bedroom as though she weighed no more than a baby. “And in the meantime, while I practice, you could help my concentration by…” He murmured a suggestion to her that she was sure could not only wreck his concentration, but shatter her as well. A suggestion she recognized, with a tilt of her heart, was his way of taking her mind off the pain of the last few moments. Her Master, who always looked after her heart as well as her body. “And,” he continued with a glint in his eyes, “if you’re good, I’ll tie you up and eat your pussy until you scream.”
And she was good. Very, very good.
The End
About the Author
Ann Jacobs is a sucker for lusty Alpha heroes and happy endings, which makes Ellora’s Cave an ideal publisher for he
r work. Romantica®, to her, is the perfect combination of sex, sensuality, deep emotional involvement and lifelong commitment—the elusive fantasy women often dream about but seldom achieve.
First published in 1996, Jacobs has sold over forty books and novellas, some of which have earned awards including the Passionate Plume (best novella, 2006), the Desert Rose (best hot and spicy romance, 2004) and More Than Magic (best erotic romance, 2004). She has been a double finalist in separate categories of the EPPIES and From the Heart RWA Chapter’s contest. Three of her books have been translated and sold in several European countries.
A CPA and former hospital financial manager, Jacobs now writes full-time, with the help of Mr. Blue, the family cat who sometimes likes to perch on the back of her desk chair and lend his sage advice. He sometimes even contributes a few random letters when he decides he wants to try out the keyboard. She loves to hear from readers, and to put faces with names at signings and conventions.
Ann welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Ann Jacobs
A Gift of Gold
A Mutual Favor
Another Love
Awakenings
Black Gold: Dallas Heat
Black Gold: Firestorm
Black Gold: Forever Enslaved
Black Gold: Love Slave
Captured anthology
Colors of Love
Colors of Magic
D’Argent Honor 1: Vampire Justice
D’Argent Honor 2: Eternally His
D’Argent Honor 3: Eternal Surrender
D’Argent Honor 4: Eternal Victory
Dark Side of the Moon
Enchained anthology
Gates of Hell
Haunted
He Calls Her Jasmine
Heart of the West: Hitched
Heart of the West: Lassoed
Heart of the West: Roped
Lawyers In Love: Bittersweet Homecoming
Lawyers In Love: Gettin’ It On
Lawyers In Love: In His Own Defense
Love Magic
Mystic Visions anthology
Out of Bounds
Storm Warnings anthology
Tip of the Iceberg
Wrong Place, Wrong Time?
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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