by Diana Palmer
Her head began to spin. He was going to be her husband. She could lie in his arms all night long. They could have children together. After the tragedy of the past few months, it was like a trip to paradise.
She moaned and wrapped her long legs around his hips, urging him even closer. She felt the power and heat of him intimately. Her mouth opened, inviting the quick, hard thrust of his tongue.
“Oh, yes,” she groaned into his hard mouth. Her hips lifted into his rhythmically, her breath gasping out at his ear as she clung to him. “Yes. That feels…good!”
A tortured sound worked out of his throat as he pressed her down hard into the soft cushions of the sofa, his hands already reaching for the zipper in the front of her slacks, so far gone that he was mindless.
The sound of footsteps outside the door finally penetrated the fog of passion that lay between them. Jordan lifted his head. Libby looked up at him, dazed and only half-aware of the sound.
“Amie,” Jordan groaned, taking a steadying breath. “We have to stop.”
“Tell her to go away,” she whispered, laughing breathlessly.
“You tell her,” he teased as he got to his feet. “She gets even in the kitchen. She can make squash look just like a corn casserole.”
“Amie’s Revenge?”
He nodded. “Amie’s Revenge.” Jordan paused. “I want to marry you,” he said quietly. “I want it with all my heart.”
She had to fight down tears to answer him. “I want it, too.”
He drew her close, over his lap, and when he kissed her, it was with such breathless tenderness that she felt tears threatening again.
She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back with fervent ardor. But he put her gently away.
“You don’t want to ravish me?” she exclaimed. “You said once that you could do me justice in thirty minutes!”
“I lied,” he said, chuckling. “I’d need two hours. And Amie’s skulking out in the hall, waiting for an opportunity to congratulate us,” he added in a whisper. “We can’t possibly shock her so soon before the wedding.”
She hesitated. “So soon…?”
“I want to get married as quickly as possible,” he informed her. “All we need is the blood tests, a license, and I’ve already got us a minister. Unless you want a formal wedding in a big church with hundreds of guests,” he added worriedly.
“No need, since you’ve already got us a minister,” she teased.
He relaxed. “Thank God! The idea of a morning coat and hundreds of people…”
She was kissing him, so he stopped talking.
Just as things were getting interesting, there was an impatient knock at the door. “Well?” Amie called through it.
“She said yes!” Jordan called back.
The door opened and Amie rushed in, grinning from ear to ear.
“She hates squash,” he said in a mock whisper.
“I won’t ever make it again,” Amie promised.
He hugged her. After a minute, Libby joined them. She hugged the housekeeper, too.
“Welcome to the family!” Amie laughed.
And that was the end of any heated interludes for the rest of the evening.
The next few days went by in a blur of activity. When the votes were counted on Tuesday at the primary election, Senator Merrill lost the Democratic candidacy by a ten-to-one margin. A recall of the city fathers was announced, along with news of a special election to follow. Councilman Culver and the mayor were both implicated in drug trafficking, along with Julie Merrill. Julie had managed to get bail the day before the primary, but she hadn’t been seen since. She was also still in trouble for the arson conspiracy. Her father had given an impressive concession speech, in front of the news media, and congratulated Calhoun Ballenger with sincerity. It began to be noticed that he improved when his daughter’s sins came to light. Apparently he’d been duty-bound to try and protect her, and it had almost killed his conscience. He’d started drinking heavily, and then realized that he was likely to lose his state senate seat for it. He’d panicked, gone to the mayor, and tried to get the charges dropped.
One irresponsible act had cost Senator Merrill everything. But, he told Calhoun, he still had his house and his health. He’d stand by his daughter, of course, and do what he could for her. Perhaps retirement wouldn’t be such a bad thing. His daughter could not be reached for comment. She was now being hunted by every law enforcement officer in Texas and government agents on the drug charges, which were formidable. Other unsavory facts were still coming to light about her doings.
Jordan finally understood why Libby had tried so hard to keep him out of Julie’s company and he apologized profusely for refusing to listen to her. Duke Wright’s plight had made him somber and afraid, especially when he realized how much he loved Libby. He was afraid to take a chance on her. He had plenty of regrets.
Libby accepted his apology and threw herself into politics as one of Calhoun’s speechwriters, a job she loved. But, she told Jordan, she had no desire to do it for a profession. She was quite happy to work for Mr. Kemp and raise a family in Jacobsville.
On the morning of Libby’s marriage to Jordan, she was almost floating with delight. “I can’t believe the things that have happened in two weeks,” Libby told her brother at the church door as they waited for the music to go down the aisle together. “It’s just amazing!”
“For a small town, it certainly is,” he agreed. He grinned. “Happy?”
“Too happy,” she confessed, blushing. “I never dreamed I’d be marrying Jordan.”
“I did. He’s been crazy about you for years, but Duke Wright’s bad luck really got to him. Fortunately, he did see the light in time.”
She took a deep breath as the first strains of the wedding march were heard. “I’m glad it’s just us and not a crowd,” she murmured.
He didn’t speak. His eyes twinkled as he opened the door.
Inside, all the prominent citizens of Jacobsville were sitting in their pews, waiting for the bride to be given away by her brother. Cash Grier was there with Tippy. So were Calhoun Ballenger and Abby, Justin Ballenger and Shelby Jacobs Ballenger. And the Hart brothers, all five of them including the attorney general, with their wives. The Tremaynes. Mr. Kemp, with Violet! The Drs. Coltrain and Dr. Morris and Dr. Steele and their wives. Eb Scott and his wife. Cy Parks and his wife. It was a veritable who’s who of the city.
“Surprise,” Curt whispered in her ear, and tugged her along down the aisle. She was adorned in a simple white satin gown with colorful embroidery on the bodice and puffy sleeves, a delicate veil covering her face and shoulders. She carried a bouquet of lily of the valley and pink roses.
Jordan Powell, in a soft gray morning coat and all the trappings, was waiting for her at the altar with the minister. He looked handsome and welcoming and he was smiling from ear to ear.
Libby thought back over the past few agonizing weeks and realized all the hardships and heartache she’d endured made her truly appreciate all the sweet blessings that had come into her life. She smiled through her tears and stopped at Jordan’s side, her small hand searching blindly for his as she waited to speak her vows. She’d never felt more loved or happier than she was at that moment. She only wished her parents had lived to see her married.
Just after the wedding, there was a reception at the church fellowship hall, catered by Barbara’s Café. The wedding cake was beautiful, with a colorful motif that exactly matched the embroidery on Libby’s wedding gown.
She and Jordan were photographed together cutting the cake and then interacting with all their unexpected guests. The only sticky moment was when handsome Hayes Carson bent to kiss Libby.
“Careful, Hayes,” Jordan said from right beside him. “I’m watching you!”
“Great idea,” Hayes replied imperturbably and grinned. “You could use a few lessons.”
And he kissed Libby enthusiastically while Jordan fumed.
When they were finally alone,
hours later in Galveston, Jordan was still fuming about that kiss.
“You know Hayes was teasing,” she said, coaxing him into her arms. “But I’m not. I’ve waited twenty-four years for this,” she added with a wry smile. “I have great expectations.”
He drew her close with a worldly look. “And I expect to satisfy them fully!”
“I’m not going to be very good at this, at first,” she said breathlessly, when he began to undress her. “Is it all right?”
He smiled tenderly. “You’re going to be great at it,” he countered. “The only real requirement is love. We’re rich in that.”
She relaxed a little, watching his dark eyes glow as he uncovered the soft, petal-pink smoothness of her bare skin. She was a little nervous. Nobody had seen her undressed since she was a little girl.
Jordan realized that and it made him even more gentle. He’d never been with an innocent, but he knew enough about women that it wasn’t going to be a problem. She loved him. He wanted nothing more than to please her.
When she was standing in just her briefs, he bent and smoothed his warm mouth over the curve of her breasts. She smelled of roses. There was a faint moisture under his lips, which he rightly attributed to fear.
He lifted his head and looked down into her wide, uncertain eyes. “Women have been doing this since the dawn of time,” he whispered. “If it wasn’t fun, nobody would want to do it. Right?”
She laughed nervously. “Right.”
He smiled tenderly. “So just relax and let me drive. It’s going to be a journey you’ll never forget.”
Her hands went to his tie. “Okay. But I get to make suggestions,” she told him impishly, and worked to unfasten the tie and then his white shirt. She opened it over a bronzed chest thick with dark, soft hair. He felt furry. But under the hair was hard, warm muscle. She liked the way he felt.
He kissed her softly while he coaxed her hands to his belt. She hesitated.
“Don’t agonize over it,” he teased, moving her hands aside to unfasten it himself. “We’ll go slow.”
“I’m not really a coward,” she whispered unsteadily. “It’s just uncharted territory. I’ve never even looked at pictures…”
He could imagine what sort of pictures she was talking about. He only smiled. “Next time, you’ll be a veteran and it won’t intimidate you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He bent to her mouth again. “I’m sure.”
His warm lips moved down her throat to her breasts, but this time they weren’t gently teasing. They were invasive and insistent as they opened on the hard little nubs his caresses had already produced. When his hands moved her hips lazily against the hard thrust of his powerful body, she began to feel drugged.
She’d thought it would be embarrassing and uncomfortable to make love in the light. But Jordan was slow and thorough, easing her into an intimacy beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. He cradled her against him on the big bed, arousing her to such a fever pitch that when he removed the last bit of her clothing, it was a relief to feel the coolness of the room against her hot skin. And by the time he removed his own clothes, she was too hungry to be embarrassed. In fact, she was as aggressive as he was, starving for him in the tempestuous minutes that followed.
She remembered the first kiss they’d shared, beside her pickup truck at his fence. She’d known then that she’d do anything he wanted her to do. But this was far from the vague dreams of fulfillment she’d had when she was alone. She hadn’t known that passion was like a fever that nothing could quench, that desire brought intense desperation. She hadn’t known that lovemaking was blind, deaf, mute slavery to a man’s touch.
“I would die for you,” Jordan whispered huskily at her ear as he moved slowly into total possession with her trembling body.
“Will it…hurt?” she managed in a stranger’s voice as she hesitated just momentarily at the enormity of what was happening to her.
He laughed sensuously as he began to move lazily against her. “Are you kidding?” he murmured. And with a sharp, deft movement, he produced a sensation that lifted her clear of the bed and against him with an unearthly little cry of pleasure.
From there, it was a descent into total madness. She shivered with every powerful thrust of his body. She clung to him with her arms, her legs, her soul. She moaned helplessly as sensation built on sensation, until she was almost screaming from the urgent need for satisfaction.
She heard her own voice pleading with him, but she couldn’t understand her own words. She drove for fulfillment, her body demanding, feverishly moving with his as they climbed the spiral of passion together.
She felt suddenly as if she’d been dropped from a great height into a hot, throbbing wave of pleasure that began and never seemed to end. She clung to him, terrified that he might stop, that he might draw back, that he might pull away.
“Shh,” he whispered tenderly. “I won’t stop. It’s all right. It’s all right, honey. I love you…so much!”
“I love you, too!” she gasped.
Then he began to shudder, even as she felt herself move from one plane of ecstasy to another, and another, and another, each one deeper and more satisfying than the one before. At one point she thought she might actually die from the force of it. Her eyes closed and she let the waves wash over her in succession, glorying in the unbelievably sweet aftermath.
Above her, Jordan was just reaching his own culmination. He groaned harshly at her ear and shuddered one last time before he collapsed in her arms, dead weight on her damp, shivering body.
“And you were afraid,” he chided in a tender whisper, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her throat.
She laughed. “So that’s how it feels,” she said drowsily. “And now I’m sleepy.”
He laughed with her. “So am I.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” she teased.
He kissed her swollen mouth gently. “For the rest of my life, honey. Until the very end.”
Her arms curved around him and she curled into his powerful body, feeling closer to him than she’d ever felt to another human being. It was poignant. She was a whole woman. She was loved.
“Until the very end, my darling,” she repeated, her voice trailing away in the silence of the room.
She slept in his arms. It was the best night of her life. But it was only the beginning for both of them.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6895-5
LONE STAR WINTER
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
THE WINTER SOLDIER
Copyright © 2001 by Diana Palmer
CATTLEMAN’S PRIDE
Copyright © 2004 by Diana Palmer
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