Talking about sex wasn't necessary. The less talk the better, he decided. Manda was a woman in need, whether she knew it or not.
Returning his hands to the task, he spread apart her blouse and removed it, then slipped his fingers around her to unhook her bra. After he eased the straps down her arms, her large, full breasts came into view. Hunter took a deep breath, the sight of her there in the moonlight arousing him anew. The stirrings of desire spiraled inside him, urging him to further action.
"You're a beauty, Manda Munroe," he said, his voice husky with emotion.
She smiled faintly, but he noted she was shivering.
"Will you touch me?" she asked. "My breasts are aching and I—"
When he cupped both breasts and flicked his thumbs across her nipples, she keened softly and trembled. "Let me make them stop aching."
He lowered his head to one breast and sucked, tenderly at first and then as he plucked at her other nipple, his mouth intensified its hold. She tossed back her head and gasped with pleasure. While his lips continued their attention on her breasts, going from one to the other, he placed his hands on her knees and began shoving up her skirt, inch by inch, until he had it bunched around her hips. Then he placed one hand on her belly and pushed her gently down on the table. She cried out in surprise, but cooperated with him when he pulled her toward him until her hips rested near the edge of the table. He lifted her hips and removed her panties. She lay before him, a magnificent woman in need of loving.
He spread her legs farther apart, then slipped a couple of his fingers between her feminine folds and found her most sensitive spot. When he stroked her, she whimpered and closed her thighs to trap his hand. As he petted her, she moved against his fingers, as if seeking more.
"Take it easy, babe. I'm going to give you just what you need."
* * *
All rational thought left her. Under Hunter's skillful hands, she had become a quivering mass of sexual longing, a woman desperate for satisfaction.
How had she let things get out of control so quickly? When she'd been engaged to Rodney, she had become accustomed to using her hand to bring him to a climax and he had often done his best to bring her relief in the same manner. A few times, it had happened. Like fireworks exploding inside her. He had been the only man who had ever touched her intimately, but now she wanted that from Hunter.
If she were completely honest with herself, she would have to admit that she wanted more—much more. Afterward, she wouldn't be able to think of him the same, wouldn't be able to keep him at arm's length. But heaven help her, she couldn't stop him. Didn't want to stop him. Not now. Not when she thought she'd die if he didn't give her the relief she needed.
His fingers stopped; she whimpered. When he slid his hand out from between her clenched thighs, she grabbed his hand. "Please, Hunter. Please."
He ignored her pleas. Then suddenly, he lifted her legs up and over his shoulders. The moment his mouth touched her, she bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to not scream. As he began the onslaught, she tensed and splayed her hands flat atop the table on either side of her hips. While his lips and tongue became intimately acquainted with her body, sensations so wild and hot that she felt as if she were on fire spread from the core of her femininity to every cell and nerve in her body.
As he increased the tempo and deepened the pressure, he reached up to caress her breasts, doubling the sensations bombarding her body. Within moments, she came apart and cried out her pleasure. He continued his assault on her senses until she completely shattered and went limp. Tiny, rippling aftershocks drifted through her.
Hunter lifted her off her back and brought her into his arms. His mouth covered hers in a demanding kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, reminding her of what they had only moments ago shared.
She responded, kissing him with equal passion. When they came up for air, he brushed flyaway tendrils of hair from her face.
"When I brought you here, I didn't plan on this," he said. "I'm not prepared. Maybe we should go back to the car and see if we can find a motel."
She shook her head. "No, please, Hunter, I don't want my first time to be in a roadside motel."
"Your first time?" He stared at her as if she'd shot him, totally dazed, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me that you've never … that you're still a… How is that possible? You're thirty-three years old!"
"I thought you knew," she said. "Didn't I explain that Mike and I didn't have sex and that Rodney and I…" No, she hadn't bothered to explain that she and Rodney had waited for a wedding night that had never happened. "Rodney and I did things … but not … we planned to wait for our wedding night."
"What about all the guys before Rodney? You had more boyfriends than ten other girls put together. Are you telling me that you never let a one of them—"
She shook her head. "Never."
Hunter burst into laughter. Manda stared at him, stunned by his reaction.
"What's so damn funny?" she demanded.
"Ah, brat, if you only knew how often I thought about all those guys getting in your pants."
She suddenly realized that she was practically naked, was still sitting on the table and Hunter was still standing between her spread thighs. She reached out and gave him a shove. The moment he reeled backward, she slid off the table and began searching for her bra, panties and blouse. While she searched, Hunter continued laughing. By the time she found the items, he had tapered off to an occasional chuckle.
She stepped into her panties, then put on her bra, fumbling as she tried to hook the back closure. Hunter whirled her around, gripped the bra hooks and slipped them through the catches. She stiffened when he clasped her shoulders and leaned over to nuzzle her neck. "I had no idea that you'd been saving yourself for me all these years."
Manda gasped, then whipped around and glared at him. She saw the humor in his eyes, the wide grin on his face and knew he was joking with her. But anger rose inside her, heating her temper to the boiling point. Damn infuriating man! The comment he'd made in jest had hit a nerve. She hadn't intentionally saved herself for him, but it seemed that Fate had done it for her.
She would be damned if she gave him her virginity. Not when he didn't love her. She was so close to falling for him again that if she allowed him to become her first lover, she would be forever lost. And it would have been nothing more than sex for him. She knew that only too well.
"I have no intention of making love … of having sex with anyone unless he's my husband," Manda told him.
"Okay, I can wait until Saturday night. It won't be easy, but if you'd rather—"
"What are you talking about?"
"We're getting married Saturday evening at six," he said. "Don't you remember? Saturday night, I'll be your husband and then there will be no reason for us not to finish what we started tonight."
* * *
Manda and Hunter arrived at the Hickory Hills Clinic fifteen minutes late the next day. They had driven home during the night, arrived on Bermuda Road
around dawn, and had gone to sleep immediately after falling into bed. Manda had kept slamming the snooze button on the clock this morning, until Hunter had finally dragged her out of bed. By the time she'd showered and dressed, he had coffee and toast waiting for her. She'd wolfed down the buttered whole wheat toast and gulped the coffee.
All during the day, she'd kept catching Hunter watching her and when their gazes collided, he would smile at her as if they shared some naughty little secret. Perhaps they did. Maybe what they'd shared at the ramshackle beach house had been a bit naughty, but it had been wonderful. Whenever she thought about Hunter's reminder that come Saturday night, he would be her husband, she could not control the anticipation that heightened her senses. Their planned marriage would be one of convenience, a make-believe union to trap a killer. But legally, they would be husband and wife. The minister from her church, Reverend Titus, would officiate at their nuptials. Everyone who knew her would find it
strange, if anyone other than Patrick Titus performed the ceremony. Because of this one fact alone, Perry had immediately ruled out the possibility of using a fake minister.
Everything was set for the big event. They had gone for their blood tests first thing Monday, before Hunter had driven her to work. And they had picked up their marriage license that same day, making a detour to the county courthouse on their way to Lady Leona's Bridal Shoppe. Gwen was sending all the invitations by special messenger today and Claire had assured her, when she'd phoned this morning, that the florist and caterers had promised nothing less than perfection.
If she were really marrying Hunter, she'd be the happiest woman in the world. She realized that despite all the dire warnings she had issued to herself, she'd gone and done something really stupid—she had fallen for Hunter again. Maybe a spark of that old attraction had never died. Maybe deep in her heart, she had never stopped loving him.
But she couldn't be in love with Hunter Whitelaw! What she felt had to be nothing more than a very strong sexual attraction. She had simply become infatuated with the man, just as she'd been years ago. Hunter was handsome and virile and possessed that certain something that made a woman feel like a woman. When he kissed her, she knew she'd been kissed by a man who wanted her. When he touched her, she became instantly aroused. When he brought her to fulfillment, she experienced pleasure beyond anything she'd ever known. She could only imagine what having sex with him would be like. The anticipation alone nearly brought her to the brink.
If she actually had to go through with this marriage and found herself legally wed, would she be able to resist Hunter? Heaven help her, she really didn't think she could deprive herself of knowing what it was like to belong to him completely.
"Gathering wool?" Hunter asked as he rose from the sofa where he'd been sitting, waiting for her to clear off her desk before they left for the day.
She smiled at him. "Something like that."
"Are you about ready to leave?"
She nodded. "Let me put away these folders and then we can go."
After unlocking the small file cabinet beside her desk, she slipped the folders into their designated slots, then closed and locked the cabinet. She removed her purse from inside the bottom desk drawer, stood and walked across the room to where Hunter waited.
The minute they emerged from her office, Lisa stopped them. "Manda, would you mind terribly going by the lounge? Dr. Pierce left a wedding present for you and I forgot to—"
"No problem," Manda assured her. "The lounge is on the way out."
Hunter escorted her down the hall, then when they reached the staff lounge, he halted and instead of opening the door for her, as was his usual custom, he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'll wait here for you," he said.
"You mean you're going to let me go in there all by myself," she said teasingly.
"Just scream if you need me."
Manda shoved open the door and the minute she did, a deafening shout of feminine voices rang out and a dozen women came rushing toward her. It took her a minute to realize that white streamers adorned with wedding bells draped across the ceiling and white helium balloon bouquets had been tied to every stick of furniture in the room. A white linen tablecloth adorned the dining table used by the staff. Cake, punch, mints and nuts provided the refreshments and a floral arrangement of white roses overflowed from a crystal vase.
Just as Gwen reached out and hugged Manda, Lisa came barreling through the door.
"Were you surprised?" Lisa asked.
"Very surprised," Manda said.
"We couldn't let you get married without a bridal shower." Claire kissed Manda's cheek. "So, Gwen and Lisa contacted your friends and those of us who love you dearly … and here we are."
"This is so sweet of y'all." Tears misted Manda's eyes. She felt guilty. These dear people believed that her upcoming marriage to Hunter was a love match, one destined to last a lifetime.
Manda scanned the room and saw a compilation of family and friends. Another female grief counselor, with whom she'd worked for a number of years, as well as several other clinic employees. Two old college sorority sisters. Three cousins. A great-aunt. A number of ladies from church. And even Grams.
She made a beeline to her grandmother, who looked her up and down, then huffed before she said, "You know I don't approve of this hasty marriage, but … if you're determined to go through with it, I don't intend to be left out of the festivities."
Everyone within earshot of Barbara Munroe laughed. Manda hugged her grams, the woman who had been the only mother she'd ever known.
"I love you," Manda said.
Grams cleared her throat. "And I love you, my dearest child."
Gwen grabbed Manda's arm. "Come along. You have a pile of presents to open. You get started, while I play hostess and make sure everyone is served."
Manda sat in the seat of honor, Claire at her side, with pen and pad in hand, prepared to make a record of the gifts and the gift-givers. Manda ripped into the wrapping paper and tossed bows aside as she revealed gift after gift. Most were lingerie items that were sheer, luxurious and sexy. Everyone gushed with admiration over each newly opened present. Finally only two unopened gifts remained, each in large boxes, one tied with an enormous pink ribbon and the other sporting white lace ribbon decked with silk roses.
"Open this one next." Lisa brought the gift with the pink ribbon over to Manda. "This is from the clinic staff"
Manda untied the ribbon, then lifted the lid and tissue paper. She removed the matching robes—his and hers—in a lush white velour.
Underneath lay a pair of extra-large, men's white silk pajamas. She held them up, looked at Lisa and said, "Only one pair?"
Lisa giggled. "Sure. Top for you and bottoms for Hunter."
While the group laughed, nibbled on cake and sipped punch, Gwen brought the final gift to Manda. She removed the beautiful bow, lifted the lid and found another box inside. Everyone gathered around to see the gift. Manda opened the second box only to be faced with a third box, which was a rectangular-shaped item wrapped in black paper.
A shudder of apprehension forewarned Manda. She grasped Lisa's hand. "Please, go get Hunter."
"Is something wrong?" Lisa asked.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think any of you would give me a wedding present wrapped in black paper."
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
The moment Hunter entered the room, the bevy of females who hovered around Manda moved away from her. Forming two rows flanking the chair in which Manda sat, the women watched him as he came near. What the hell was going on? he wondered. All Lisa had said was that Manda wanted to see him. He'd thought maybe the party was over and she wanted to make a big deal out of showing the gifts to her groom. Apparently that wasn't the case. Nobody was laughing. Heck, nobody was even smiling. His gut tightened.
He approached Manda, who looked up at him and held out a small black package. He noted first the fear in her eyes and then the quiver in her hand.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"This," she replied, lifting the rectangular box toward him. "It was disguised as a wedding gift, but I hardly think anyone here would give me a present wrapped in black paper."
Hunter reached out and took the box from her. A bomb? Possibly. But somehow he doubted it. "Let me carry this outside and take a look."
Manda grabbed his arm. "Please, be careful."
He leaned down and kissed her, just an affectionate and reassuring peck. "Don't worry. You stay right here and don't leave this room until I get back."
She nodded.
Claire moved in behind Manda and laid her hand on Manda's shoulder. "Don't you worry. We'll take care of her."
Hunter went outside, far enough away from the building that he felt it safe to open the package. Only a thin strip of cellophane tape held down the lid, so it was easy enough to open. Lying inside was a folded
sheet of paper. Another letter? Hunter wondered. Why the hell go to so much trouble to send another warning letter disguised as a gift? He examined the box, then slipped it into his sport coat pocket before he unfolded the piece of white stationery.
The message was brief, but straightforward. Damn! If that lunatic had done anything to hurt— Damn! He'd rather take a beating than go back into the lounge and tell Manda what he'd found. But he had no other choice. She would want to go home immediately, of course.
Please, God, please, let this be another hoax!
When Hunter returned to the lounge, Manda met him at the door, while the other ladies made a show of cleaning up and clearing away.
"What was in the box?" she asked.
"Another warning letter."
"Is that all?"
"This one was different from the others," he said. "He issued a specific warning."
She held out her hand. "Let me read it."
Reluctantly, he gave her the note, then waited for her reaction.
Manda scanned the brief message.
Why won't you listen to me? I do not want anyone else to die, but if you refuse to do as I say, then you leave me no choice. This is your last warning. This time, Oxford. Next time, Hunter Whitelaw.
"Oh, no. Please, no." Manda crumpled the note in her hand. "We have to go home right now."
"What is it, Manda?" Grams asked.
"I think this maniac has done something to Oxford."
Grams gasped. "Who would— Go, dear. See if that precious little dog is all right. And call to let us know, please."
"I'll gather up your gifts and take care of them for you," Gwen said. "Everyone here understands why you have to rush off."
Manda ran out of the lounge, down the hall and out to the parking lot. Hunter kept pace with her and when they reached his Lexus, he opened the door for her, then hurried to the driver's side and got in.
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