by Diana Palmer
‘‘But, but,’’ she blurted.
‘‘I want to marry you right away,’’ he added. ‘‘You’re a qualified health professional, and I have a terrible pain that you can cure in only one night.’’
She got the idea, belatedly, and hit him.
He chuckled, bending to kiss her gently. ‘‘It’s no use trying to stop them,’’ he said. ‘‘Besides, they’re very good at it. I used to be, too.’’ He scowled. ‘‘Somehow, it’s not as much fun being on the receiving end, though.’’
She just shook her head.
The wedding was beautiful, despite her misgivings. Meredith wore the most gorgeous gown she’d ever seen, with yards and yards of exquisite lace over satin, with a long veil made of the same lace and a bouquet of pure white roses. Her father gave her away, and all four of Rey’s brothers were best men. Tess, Cag’s wife, stood with Meredith as her matron of honor. In a very short time, the two women had become close friends.
Most of Jacobsville turned out for the affair, but Meredith had eyes only for her handsome husband, who was dressed to the hilt as well. They exchanged rings and Rey lifted the veil very slowly. He’d been romantic and gentle and teasing over the days before the wedding. But when he looked at her now, his eyes were quiet and loving and very solemn. He bent and kissed her with such tenderness that she knew she’d remember the moment for the rest of her life.
They clasped hands and ran down the aisle and out of the church together, laughing gaily as they were pelted with rice and rose petals. At the waiting limousine, Meredith turned and tossed her bouquet. Surprisingly it was caught by Janie Brewster, notorious locally for her rubber chicken dinners and trying to catch Leo Hart’s eye. She blushed vividly and clutched the bouquet, her eyes on it and not on anyone nearby. Which was as well, because Leo looked suddenly homicidal as the ranch foreman elbowed him and grinned.
The newlyweds waved and dived into the limousine, already packed and ready to take them to the airport. They’d already announced that the reception would have to go on without them, to the brothers’ shock and dismay.
‘‘I hated for us to miss it,’’ Rey told her on the way to the airport, ‘‘but I know my brothers. They’d have found some way to embarrass us.’’
She chuckled, snuggling close to him. ‘‘Well, we’re safe now.’’
The flight to France was long and boring. They held hands and couldn’t sleep as the little computers above the seats marked the long trail on a map, showing the progress of the flight. When the jumbo jet finally landed, they walked like zombies into the airport to go through passport control and then on to wait for their luggage so that they could get through customs and to the waiting car that would take them to their hotel. The driver, holding a sign that read Hart Newlyweds had met them at the gate and arranged to meet them at customs. Meredith was yawning visibly when they found the driver and followed him and the wheeled luggage out the door. He and Rey exchanged comments that went right over Meredith’s head.
‘‘I don’t speak French,’’ she said worriedly when they were in the car. ‘‘I took a double minor in German and Spanish.’’
‘‘No Latin?’’ he teased.
‘‘There’s a special course of it for nursing students,’’ she replied with a smile. ‘‘Fortunately you don’t have to learn the whole language anymore, although I wouldn’t have minded. I’m so tired!’’
‘‘We’ll have a nice long rest when we get to the hotel.’’ He pulled her close. ‘‘I could use a little sleep myself!’’
The car pulled up under the covered entrance and a bellboy came out to get the luggage. Rey paid the driver and made arrangements to contact him when they were ready to go sightseeing in a day or two.
Meredith followed Rey and the luggage to the desk clerk and waited while he got the key to their suite.
It didn’t take long. Rey unlocked the door and opened it. And the bellhop burst into helpless laughter.
There, on the bed, very obviously courtesy of the Hart boys, were two life-size blow-up dolls, a blond female and a dark-haired male, in the midst of a garden of thornless roses of every color known to man. They were obviously engaged in a notorious newlywed ritual.
Rey tipped the bellhop and opened the door himself, waving the man out while he tried not to bend over double laughing.
When he closed the door again, Meredith was removing the dolls and roses with tears of mirth running down her cheeks.
‘‘Just wait until they break something, anything,’’ she threatened. ‘‘We can have them put in body casts for a sprained ankle…!’’
He came up behind her and caught her around the waist. ‘‘And I’ll help you. But, later, sweetheart,’’ he added in a soft, hungry tone as he turned her into his arms. ‘‘Much, much…later!’’
She was a professional health care worker. She knew all the mechanics of marriage. In fact, she counseled young wives in them. This was totally out of her experience.
Rey undressed her with slow precision, while he kissed every soft inch of skin as he uncovered it. He never rushed. He seemed to have committed the whole night to her arousal, and he went about it like a soldier with a battle plan.
She was teased, caressed, kissed until she felt as if there wasn’t a bed under her at all. The roses were scattered over the carpet by now, along with half the bed linen. She was under him and then over him as he increased the insistence of his hands and mouth on her body. She heard high-pitched little cries of pleasure and barely realized that they were coming from her own throat.
One particularly enthusiastic embrace landed them on the carpet, cushioned by the sheet and blanket and, under them, the thick comforter.
‘‘The bed,’’ she whispered, trembling with unsatisfied hunger.
‘‘It will still be there when we’re finished,’’ he replied breathlessly as his mouth bent again to her taut, arching breasts. ‘‘Yes, do that again, sweetheart!’’ he added when she pulled his head down to her.
He guided her hands along his lean, fit body to his hips and pressed them there as he suddenly shifted between her soft legs and his mouth ground into hers with intent.
The abrupt shift in intensity took her by surprise and lessened the sharp pain of his possession of her. His hard mouth absorbed the tiny cry that pulsed out of her tight throat, and his hands moved under her hips to caress her.
After a few seconds, she began to relax. He shifted again and found the place, and the pressure, that made her lift toward him instead of trying to escape the downward rhythm of his hips.
She clung to his damp shoulders as the little bites of pleasure became great, shivering waves. She could feel him in every cell of her body, and she wanted to look at him, to see his face, but she was intent on some distant goal of pleasure that grew by the second. Her mouth opened against the hollow of his shoulder and she moaned, her eyes closed, her body following the lead of his own as the heated minutes lengthened.
Her nails suddenly stabbed into his back and she gasped.
‘‘Yes,’’ he groaned at her ear. ‘‘Now, baby, now, now…!’’
As if her body had given him some secret signal, his hips became insistent and the rhythm increased to madness. She reached, reached…reached…until the pleasure exploded inside her and began to spread in racking hot waves from her head to her toes. She rippled with him, sobbed against his skin, as the ecstasy she’d never known flamed through her with hurricane force.
‘‘Rey!’’ She cried out pitifully as the wave peaked, and she felt her body go incandescent with joy.
His hands gripped her hips as he riveted her to his insistent hips. She heard his breathing become raspy and hoarse and then stop as he groaned endlessly against her throat and his entire body convulsed over her.
She felt him shake as the madness began to drift away.
‘‘Are you all right?’’ she whispered urgently.
‘‘I’m…dying,’’ he choked.
‘‘Rey!’’
She held him close until the harsh contractions of his body slowed and then stopped. He collapsed on her with his whole weight, his breathing as labored as his heartbeat. His mouth burrowed into her throat hungrily.
‘‘Never like that, Mrs. Hart,’’ he whispered huskily. ‘‘You just made me a whole man!’’
‘‘Did I, really?’’ she whispered with a silly giggle.
He laughed, too. ‘‘That’s what it felt like.’’ He sighed heavily and lifted his head to look at her. His hair was as damp as hers, and he looked exhausted. He brushed loose blond strands away from her cheeks. ‘‘I’m glad we waited. I hope you are.’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Filled with wonder, she touched his hard mouth, which was swollen from its long contact with hers. ‘‘I think I swallowed the sun,’’ she whispered. ‘‘It was…glorious!’’ She hid her face in his throat, still shy of him, especially now.
He laughed again, lazily brushing his mouth over her closed eyes. ‘‘Glorious,’’ he agreed with a long sigh. He rolled away from her gently, onto his back, and pulled her against him. ‘‘We fell off the bed,’’ he remarked after a minute.
‘‘I thought we were thrown off it,’’ she murmured sleepily. ‘‘You know, by the hurricane.’’
‘‘Hurricane.’’ He kissed her forehead gently. ‘‘That’s what it felt like.’’
‘‘I’m sleepy. Is it normal?’’
‘‘Yes, it is, and it does worlds for my masculinity,’’ he drawled. ‘‘Feel free to tell anyone you like that you ravished me to such an extent that I fell out of bed in my excitement, and you went to sleep from the tidal wave of pleasure!’’
She managed one tired little chuckle. ‘‘I’ll take out an ad in a magazine,’’ she promised. She wrapped her arms and one leg around him, completely uninhibited now. ‘‘I love you, but I have to go to sleep now.’’
‘‘Suit yourself, but I hope you’re not throwing in the towel. I’m a brand-new bridegroom, remember, you can’t just roll over and go to sleep once you’ve had your way with me…Meredith? Meredith!’’
It was no use. She was sound asleep, worn-out by the pace of the wedding and her first passion. He lay watching her sleep, his eyes quiet and tender and loving. It had already been, he mused, one hell of a wedding night, even if they hadn’t waited for it to get dark.
When she woke up, she was wearing a nightgown and lying on the bed, under the covers. Rey was sipping coffee and sniffing freshly cooked food under silver lids. He glanced up as Meredith sat up in bed and blinked her eyes sleepily.
‘‘Supper?’’ she asked.
He grinned. ‘‘Supper. Come and eat something.’’
She pulled herself out of bed, feeling a little uncomfortable and grinning as she realized why. She sat down beside Rey, who was wearing a pair of blue silk pajama bottoms and nothing else, and looked under lids.
‘‘Seafood,’’ she sighed, smiling. ‘‘My favorite.’’
‘‘Mine, too. Dig in, honey.’’ He reached over and kissed her softly and gave her a wicked grin. ‘‘It’s going to be a long, lovely night!’’
And it was.
They came back to the ranch after several magical, wonderful days together to find the house deserted. There was a note propped up on the kitchen table, obviously left by Leo, because his name was signed to it.
‘‘Goodbye, cruel world,’’ it read. ‘‘Have run out of biscuits. No relief in sight. Can’t go on. Have gone into Jacobsville to kidnap a cook or beg door-to-door for biscuits. If I fail, drag the river. P.S. Congratulations Meredith and Rey. Hope you liked the wedding present. Love, Leo.’’
‘‘He wouldn’t really kidnap a cook,’’ Meredith said.
‘‘Of course not,’’ Rey agreed. But he had a very odd look on his face.
‘‘Or beg door-to-door for a biscuit.’’
‘‘Of course not,’’ Rey repeated.
Meredith went to the telephone. ‘‘I’ll call Dad.’’
He waited while she dialed the cottage her father occupied and tapped his foot while it rang and rang.
‘‘Dad?’’ she asked suddenly. ‘‘Have you seen Leo?’’
There was a pause, while Rey gestured with his hands for her to tell him something. She flapped a hand at him while she listened and nodded.
‘‘Okay, Dad, thanks! Yes, we had a lovely honeymoon! We’ll have you up for supper tomorrow. Love you, too!’’
She hung up and sighed. ‘‘Well, Leo’s gone to San Antonio.’’
‘‘What the hell for?’’ he exclaimed.
‘‘Apparently he walked out of Barbara’s café with a cook in his arms and put him in the ranch truck…’’
‘‘Him?’’ Rey exclaimed.
‘‘Him.’’ She sighed. ‘‘The cook escaped out the other door and ran to get Chet Blake.’’
‘‘The chief of police?’’ Rey looked horrified.
‘‘Chet was laughing so hard that he didn’t get to the café before Leo took off in a cloud of dust, barely escaping public disgrace. He tried to hire the little man to bake him some biscuits, but the cook refused, so Leo took harsh measures.’’ She chuckled. ‘‘Dad said he phoned halfway to San Antonio and said he’d be back in a few days. He thinks he’ll go to that genetics workshop until the heat dies down here.’’
‘‘We’ll never live that story down,’’ Rey sighed, shaking his head.
‘‘There is a solution,’’ she remarked. ‘‘We can find him a nice wife.’’
He laughed even harder. ‘‘Leo’s the one of us who’ll have to be dragged to the altar behind a big horse,’’ he told her. ‘‘For all that Janie Brewster is desperate to marry him, he’s as elusive as smoke.’’
‘‘Janie’s pretty,’’ she recalled, because the girl caught her bridal bouquet at the wedding.
‘‘She’s a doll, but she can’t boil water,’’ Rey told her. ‘‘He’d never get a biscuit if he married Janie. Besides, she’s not mature enough for him.’’
‘‘She could change.’’
‘‘So could he, sweetheart,’’ he drawled, pulling her close to kiss her. ‘‘But I wouldn’t hold my breath in either case. Now here we are, at home, and all alone, and I’ll give you one guess what I’d like you to do next,’’ he whispered suggestively.
She smiled under his lips. ‘‘Would it have something to do with flour and olive oil and skim milk and a hot oven?’’ she whispered back.
He actually gasped. ‘‘Darling!’’ he exclaimed, and kissed her even harder.
She linked her arms around his neck. ‘‘So,’’ she whispered, moving closer, ‘‘Just how badly do you want that pan of biscuits, sweetheart?’’ she teased.
Chuckling, he bent and lifted her clear of the floor and turned down the hall. ‘‘Let me show you!’’
Eventually he got a pan of fresh biscuits and a whole jar of fresh apple butter to go on them—along with a nice pat of low-fat margarine. And he didn’t even complain!
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4230-6
A MAN OF MEANS
Copyright © 2002 by Diana Palmer
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