The Rebel and His Bride

by Bonnie Pega

  Maybe if she talked to him, she could figure it out. She sat up and reached for the phone. No, she didn’t want a telephone line between them. She wanted to see his face, watch his eyes. Perhaps that would help her find the answer. She just wished she was sure what the question was.

  She quickly dressed and left a note on her bedroom door, in case her grandmother woke up and looked for her. She didn’t allow herself time to think as she drove to Gregory’s; she was afraid she’d change her mind. She thanked God that his light was still on, because she might not have had enough nerve to knock on the door if he’d already gone to bed.

  He opened the door almost immediately. “Annabelle.”

  “Hi.” Oh Lord, he was wearing jeans and nothing else. For a moment Annabelle forgot what she wanted to say.

  “Is something wrong? Is Virgie all right?”

  She took a deep breath and willed her gaze not to stray below his chin. “Nothing’s wrong and Gran’s fine. I just, well, I couldn’t sleep and I thought maybe we could talk.”

  He smiled faintly and invited her in, waving his hand at the sofa. “I couldn’t sleep either. Sit. Do you, uh, can I get you something?”

  She shook her head. “No thanks.” She fell silent. He was the one who’d wanted to talk earlier, and she hoped he’d start things. He didn’t. “Gregory, you said I had a couple of—of—”

  “Misconceptions.”

  “Yeah, misconceptions you wanted to correct. What did you mean?” She looked at him, her gaze locking with his, and she wondered if this was indeed where the answer was.

  He sat silent for a long moment, as if gathering his words carefully. “The biggest one is that you seem to think I’m looking for you to be a part of my life. I’m not. I’m looking for you to share my life. Everything I’m a part of, you’d be a part of. I want a partner, Annie. A real honest-to-God partner.”

  She could hear the underlying tension in his voice and she could tell that what he was saying was important to him. Studying him, she saw the quiet longing in his eyes, the fervent hope that he’d somehow get through to her. Tears stung her own eyes, and she wanted to tell him that she was listening, really listening, to him. With her heart.

  He reached out as if to take her hand, then pulled back. “You were right, you know, when you said the ministry is my life. It is. But it doesn’t have to be something I do while you do your thing over there somewhere. It’s something we do together, Annie.

  “Do you remember I said that our goals weren’t so different? I wanted to save souls and you wanted to save minds.”

  She nodded. “I remember.”

  “Well, the two aren’t exclusive of each other. We can do both.”

  “I kept watching you with the McKinleys,” she said. “You were so good with them. I couldn’t hear what you were saying, but whatever it was, it seemed to help because they hugged each other and they smiled at you. You made a real difference to them, just like you did with Mrs. Cochran’s family at the hospital.”

  “You were good with the kids. You made a real difference with them too. Don’t you see, Annie? We could work together. We could work to make this whole community a better place. We could work to make a marriage work, to build a home together.”

  He reached out again to take her hand, this time holding it in both of his. “I don’t just want to come home to you, Annie, I want to walk in that door with you.”

  This was it, she thought. This was that home truth, that pearl of wisdom she’d been reaching for. It was that word. With. Her throat was suddenly so tight, she had trouble getting the words out, but she gave a shaky smile. “I can’t do choir. I sing like a frog, remember?”

  An answering smile, a tender smile, crossed his face. “I remember. If I sing like a cricket, we’ll sound like a summer night.”

  Hope blossomed inside her like a rose. “Do you really think we can do it?” she asked tremulously.

  “Sweetheart, I think we can do anything if we work on it together. We can do miracles. I love you, Annie. I love you so much. I’ll try as hard as I can to make sure you always feel loved, to make sure you never feel left out. But I need you in my life. Please, Annie, tell me what I need to do.”

  The tears overflowed at his heartfelt plea and ran freely down her cheeks. She whispered, “Well, you might ask me to marry you again.”

  He clasped her hand so hard, it should have hurt, only she didn’t feel any pain. The welling of joy inside her eclipsed everything else but the glimmer of tears in his eyes.

  “Will you marry me, Annie?”

  “Yes.”

  She was pulled into his arms so fast, she didn’t have time to breathe. Not that it mattered, because his mouth crushed hers, stealing what little breath she had left anyway. And, in a moment, she really didn’t care all that much about breathing. She had not only found her master plan, her home truth, but she was wrapped tightly in it. Surrounded by it. It was his arms.

  EPILOGUE

  “You can’t come in, Gregory. You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”

  “I know, I know. I just want to talk to her a minute. Please, Danni.”

  Danni sighed. “Fine, but don’t you come in. Understand? You don’t even peek around the door.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. You might sit on me if I disobeyed you. Sebastian says that’s how you keep him in line these days.”

  “Don’t you forget it. Hey, Annabelle, there’s a gentleman at the door who insists on talking to you. Make it quick. Your groom-to-be should be heading downstairs about now. You can crack the door to talk to him, but don’t let him see you.”

  Annabelle went over to the door, wrapping her fingers around the edge of it. “Gregory?”

  He covered her fingers with his. “I love you, sweetheart. I just wanted to tell you.”

  Annabelle’s smile, which she’d walked around with all morning, grew wider. “You can prove it by meeting me downstairs in about five minutes. And, by the way, I love you too.”

  “You can prove it by accepting a present I have for you. I’ve had it for nine years and I really want you to have it.”

  “Okay. I can’t wait to see it.”

  His other hand showed around the door, holding his college ring. “Will you be my girl?”

  Annabelle took the ring from him and bent to press a kiss on his fingers. “Yes. I’ll see you in five.”

  Gran, dressed in a lemon-yellow dress that blended nicely with her newly dyed blond hair, gave Annabelle a quick hug and went downstairs. Her mother, weepy but overjoyed, kissed Annabelle and hurried after Gran, and her father offered his arm with the aplomb of a prince. Danni, looking for all the world like a pink chiffon balloon, led the way.

  Annabelle stood in the vestibule at the back of the church, holding the college ring she’d slipped on the gold chain around her neck, and peeked up at the front. Her parents’ minister from Raleigh, here to perform the ceremony, stared down at the cat sitting on the floor next to his feet. Gregory and Sebastian stood to one side waiting, with Gregory wearing a boutonniere of pink rosebuds and baby’s breath—to match her bouquet. His eyes eagerly searched the back of the church for a glimpse of his bride.

  And then it was time. Annabelle thought she’d never forget this beautiful September day as long as she lived. The afternoon sun streamed in the windows, casting a golden glow on everything. Or maybe it was just that her eyes were seeing gold. Then the only thing she was seeing was Gregory’s face and his beautiful, beautiful eyes.

  “Dearly beloved …”

  Annabelle heard the words through a mist, her only reality Gregory’s strong hands, which held hers so firmly, his golden-brown eyes so full of love and sweet desire that she wanted to drown in them. “And now by the power vested in me—”

  “Damn!”

  That wasn’t part of the wedding ceremony. Annabelle jerked her head around and looked at Danni.

  Danni gave an apologetic shrug. “My water just broke.”

 
The best man’s knees buckled.

  And Annabelle and Gregory spent their anxiously and long-awaited wedding night in a hospital waiting room.

  It was dawn before they arrived at Gregory’s house. Gregory swung Annabelle into his arms and carried her across the threshold. He carried her straight to his bed, quickly undressed her to bra and panties, leaving the white lacy gown lying on the floor topped with his discarded tuxedo. He lay next to her on the bed, pulling her into his arms, then kissed her, a singularly sweet kiss. He pulled back enough to see her face. “I love you, Mrs. Talbott.” He kissed her nose. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  “Gregory?”

  He grinned, a tired but purely male grin. “Neither of us has slept in over twenty-four hours and when I make love with you, I want you to be well-rested. You’re going to need to be.”

  Annabelle smiled sleepily. “And you’re definitely going to need to be well-rested, too, my love.”

  He snuggled Annabelle next to him and rested his cheek on top of her head. “I intend to be,” he whispered, but her lashes had already drifted shut.

  When Gregory awoke, long fingers of golden afternoon reached across the bed. “God, I could wake up like this everyday for the rest of my life,” he whispered as he snuggled his new bride closer.

  She stirred and opened her eyes. “So could I,” she murmured sleepily, and stretched, which brought even more of her body in contact with his.

  He raised up on one arm and leaned over her. “Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he said, pressing soft moist kisses on her nose, her forehead, her eyelids, her chin. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other, then left a trail of kisses down her cheek. Only when Annabelle’s fingers curled imperiously into his hair and met his lips with hers, did he take her mouth.

  “I love your mouth,” he murmured against her lips. “I love the way it fits against mine. I love the way you taste. I could kiss you for hours.” And then he kissed her, long drugging kisses that gave credence to his words.

  When he finally lifted his head, he deftly unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. “But I love your breasts, too,” he whispered huskily. “I love the way they fit my hands. I love the way they taste.” He suited actions to words until her breasts swelled into his palms and her nipples beaded tightly in his mouth.

  Annabelle moaned again and again beneath his skilled touches, soft pleading sounds, primal animal sounds. Her hands roamed the warm skin of his back, sweeping over the smooth ripples of his muscles again and again.

  Gregory raised up long enough to remove her silky panties, then his own, then pressed kisses down over her flat stomach. “And I love you here, too. So hot and wet—” His voice broke off as his lips found her. He loved her with lips and hands until she shook with pleasure. He loved her until she wound her hands in his hair and pulled his face up to hers for a thorough kiss.

  “I thought marriage was supposed to be a fifty-fifty deal,” she complained breathlessly though with an infinitely satisfied smile.

  Gregory’s brow creased a little. “Of course it is, sweetheart.”

  “So when do I get my fifty percent?” Annabelle punctuated her words with a sweep of her fingertips down his back and up again.

  In sudden comprehension, Gregory rolled over on his back and sighed, a long-suffering sigh, belied by his muscles, tensed with anticipation. “Oh well, if I must. Go ahead and do your worst. I can take it.”

  “You think so?” Annabelle’s hair fell forward and brushed over his chest as she brushed her lips over the dusting of soft red-gold curls in the center. She circled his flat nipples with her tongue, then nipped the tiny buds with her teeth. “I think I’ll have you begging for mercy in no time.”

  “You may be right.” Gregory tried to catch his breath as his fingers tangled restlessly in her hair.

  Annabelle let her long-denied hunger take over and she tasted and teased until Gregory cried out, “You win. Have mercy!” and rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

  He caught his breath as he looked down at her, her hair spread over his pillow, her eyes glowing with love, her face flushed with desire. “I love you, sweetheart,” he breathed as he slowly entered her, and the words were as heartfelt and sacred as a prayer.

  “And I love you,” she whispered back, as she held him tightly in her arms.

  “It’s so good. It’s so good,” he said hoarsely as he buried his face in her hair. “I’ve needed you, only you, for so long.”

  “I’ve needed you all my life,” Annabelle said and those were the last rational words either of them spoke for some time, though the silence was broken with incoherent murmurs of love and need.

  Gregory made love to her with his heart as well as his body and when she finally cried out with ecstasy, he answered those cries with his own muffled shouts of possession and triumph.

  Gregory felt gloriously wasted as he lay with Annabelle’s head cradled on his shoulder. Her fingers smoothed back and forth over his chest, her leg nestled between his. When he heard her giggle a little, he snuggled her closer. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  She sighed, a sweet floaty sound of pure joy. “I was just thinking that all things come to those who wait. But last night I wasn’t so sure about this waiting business.”

  He grinned and kissed the top of her head, his free hand tracing little circles between her breasts. “We should have known Danni would go into labor, even if it was a month early. Babies keep their own timetables, I hear. Especially twins. I wonder how Sebastian is going to take to having two more little pink-and-purple butterflies flitting around.”

  “He was absolutely thrilled about having girls. How about you? Boys or girls?”

  “I’d be thrilled with either one. As long as their mother is you.” He turned onto his side to kiss her, leaving a moist trail from her lips down to her breasts.

  She arched under his touch and breathed, “Suppose a minister turned out to have a wife with an insatiable appetite for his body?”

  “Then he’s particularly blessed, sweetheart,” Gregory said, groaning as she reciprocated his caresses. “Blessed, indeed.”

  This book is dedicated to all the redheads in my life: my son Scott, my sister Pat Hildebran and her kids Emily, Jane, and Michael.

  And to my husband Bill and son Chris who aren’t redheads, but shouldn’t be left out.

  A very special thanks to Leanne Banks for all the pennies (and quarters).

  The Editor’s Corner

  May marks the halfway point between the first day of spring and the summer solstice—I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely ready for the warmth of spring and the heat of Loveswept romances! And you can always count on Loveswept to have the perfect gift for you and your mom this Mother’s Day.

  Let’s see what’s on sale this month:

  Small-town romance is first on the list with Laugh—Mary Ann Rivers continues her Burnside family series as two people try to share their hearts without losing their cool. Outlaws and daredevils are up next when the Justiss Alliance returns in Tina Wainscott’s Wild Ways, and the search for a missing woman forces two brave souls to tap into their wild sides. And in her Loveswept debut Against the Cage, Sidney Halston turns up the heat as a sexy cage fighter shows a former bookworm how delicious a few rounds between the sheets can be.

  Moms everywhere will certainly enjoy Loveswept’s Classics, beginning with Bonnie Pega’s back-to-back releases: Wild Thing, Then Comes Marriage, The Rebel and His Bride, Only You, and Animal Magnetism. Then Jean Stone weaves together an emotionally charged story of friendship and betrayal, forgiveness and love, in Places by the Sea. And, in #1 New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen’s electrifying Blue Skies and Shining Promises, two hearts are thrown together by fate and united by irresistible desire—don’t miss it!

  ~Happy Romance!

  Gina Wachtel

  Associate Publisher

  Love stories you’ll never forget by authors you’ll always remember

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