by Francis Ray
Vincent scooted the magazines and silk flower arrangement over on the coffee table, then sat facing her. “Yes.”
“What?”
“I’m in love with you. Will you marry me?”
Charlotte’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Vincent stared into her shocked face and talked fast. “I didn’t expect it either. I knew I wanted you, but then I saw you walking down the aisle, and it began to sink in. I love you.”
Her eyes closed and when they opened they were filled with accusation and pain. “How could you do this to me?”
“I lo—”
“Don’t lie!” She came to her feet. “You want to sleep with me and you think the way to do it is to offer a fake proposal.”
Vincent had risen with her. “Fake proposal! What kind of man do you think I am?”
“Obviously one I only thought I knew.” She gripped her bag. “Good night.”
She got two steps before he caught her by the forearms and pulled her toward him. “Now you listen to me. I said I love you and I darn well mean it. I never said that to another woman in my life, not even to that scheming Sybil.”
Charlotte stopped struggling. Fire flashed in her eyes. “Who’s Sybil?”
“An unscrupulous woman who thought to use me to advance in the company I worked for and was fired instead,” he told her.
“You had an affair with her,” Charlotte guessed, and although it had been in the past it still hurt. The woman had shared with Vincent what Charlotte might never have the chance to experience.
For a moment she didn’t think he would answer, then he did. “Yes. Unlike you, she used her looks to get her what she wanted. When I found out about her duplicity I fired her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It taught me a lesson about sex and women.” He sighed. “At least I thought it did until I met you. You’re nothing like I thought and everything I could have wished for.”
“I didn’t expect you to stay after I told you,” she said softly.
His thumb stroked her arms. “Neither did I.”
“Why did you?”
“Probably a combination of a lot of things,” he said, thinking as he went. “I enjoyed being with you, hearing your laughter, watching you enjoy life. Your kisses also nearly blew the top of my head off. The little sounds you used to make when you were clinging to me nearly drove me crazy. We both know I didn’t have to propose to get you to sleep with me.”
She gasped and he kept talking. “You know why I stopped every time? It was because I’d rather cut off my right arm than hurt you.”
Since there were times she would have given in, all Charlotte could do was glare.
Vincent wasn’t finished. “Do you think I wanted to fall in love with a career woman who I’ll have to get on her calendar to see? I missed you like crazy while you were in Austin.”
Charlotte felt herself softening, but felt compelled to point out, “A woman has just as much a right to a career as a man.”
“A woman’s place is in the home, caring for her family.” He released her, then raked his hand over his head in frustration. “I cut Ashley some slack because of what you said, but I’m not the husband and family she’s missing time with. There’ll be times when you’re gone almost as much as I am. I don’t have any illusions that will change. I don’t like that!”
“I believe in what I’m doing just as much as you do,” she told him, wanting him to understand.
“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “Helping people and trying to make a difference in their lives is as much a part of you as breathing. I finally figured out that’s one of the reasons people are so drawn to you.” Black eyes narrowed. “Men especially. I wanted to punch James in the nose tonight. I would have, if I hadn’t thought it would upset you.”
Charlotte felt her resistance fade a little bit more. “I can take care of myself.”
“I realize that as well. You also have very strong moral principles and I trust you implicitly. I’ll always be waiting for you to come back home to me.” A slow, teasing smile came over his face as his hands settled on her waist. “It will be my pleasure to ensure that you can’t wait to get home.”
She pushed at his chest. “I’m still upset with you.”
“I know, but I’m working on getting you over it.” He kissed the curve of her jaw, her lips. “I brought you here so you couldn’t toss me out until I convinced you how much I love you.”
Her voice trembled. “Vincent, are you sure?”
His head lifted and he stared down at her with love in his eyes. “I love you more than life itself. You opened my eyes to what a real marriage is: trust, love, commitment, and sharing. I found my Southern comfort and I have no intention of letting her get away.”
Her arms circled his neck. “I love you. Together we’ll make it work.”
He pulled her closer. “I figure if I can learn calculus, I can learn how to fix a meal and change a diaper.”
Her heart glowed. “I’m sure of it.”
“Then your answer is yes?”
“Yes, forever and always, my conservative scoundrel.”
EPILOGUE
The bride wore white. Chantilly lace, tulle, and silk-satin were used to create an elegant gown with a sweeping train and veil for the formal December wedding. In her white-gloved hand was a cluster of calla lilies. As she made her way up the aisle on the arm of her beaming father, a hush fell over the packed, flower-filled sanctuary. She didn’t notice; her gaze was locked on the man in the gray morning coat who would soon be her husband, just as his was on her.
As they had done so many times in the past six months since their engagement, they communicated with their eyes.
I’ll love you always.
I’ll love you right back.
Then she was standing beside him in front of the minister, her hand resting trustingly in his. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind that he would always be there for her, nor were there any doubts in his mind about her.
We made it.
We certainly did.
Soon.
Soon.
The ceremony proceeded with the solemn lighting of candles, the exchange of vows and giving of rings, then the moment each had waited for. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The kiss was a brief brush of lips, then hand-in-hand they were rushing down the aisle to the waiting limousine that would take them to the reception at the posh Crescent Court Hotel. Exactly an hour later, the couple slipped away, leaving their best man and maid of honor to ensure that all the guests had a wonderful time.
“Hurry,” she said impatiently, crowding him as he tried to unlock the door to their honeymoon suite in the Crescent Court. Neither had wanted to wait to start their honeymoon.
“The key card is—there!” The green light blinked on. Turning, he lifted her up in his arms and stepped inside, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t stop until he was in the lavishly decorated bedroom of the suite. Vintage champagne, a huge fruit basket, and finger food waited. Neither noticed. All that mattered was the turned-down, king-sized bed.
“Please put me down and help me out of this dress.” Lifting her cathedral crown off her head she tossed it and his coat he’d taken off in the elevator in the direction of the love seat.
He set her on her feet, then breathed a sigh of relief that there were only five satin-covered buttons. “My hands are shaking.”
“My entire body is shaking,” she said.
They both laughed, but it was nervous laughter. The last button slipped free. “Done.”
She reached to pull the dress off her shoulders. He helped, then sucked in his breath as the dress slid down her body. She stood in yards of tulle and satin-silk wearing a white lace bustier, delicate lace bikini panties, and sheer white lace-top thigh-highs.
“You simply take my breath away.” His hands spanned her tiny waist and lifted her out of the gown.
Her
hands rested on his broad shoulders as she stared up into his intense black eyes. “I plan to do a lot more to you before we leave this room again.”
He grinned. “Charlotte, I do love you.”
“I love you too, Vincent. Thanks for giving me this,” she said, her hands coming up to cup his face. “Now, it’s my time to give.” Her lips nipped his, then she traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue.
He shuddered. His hands tightened. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Why don’t we give to each other?”
In his usual way, he didn’t wait for her consent, but fastened his mouth on hers. The kiss was bold, erotic, and mind-bending. Her little moans and whimpers told him she was in complete agreement with his idea.
Vincent fell back on the bed, carrying Charlotte with him. He rolled and she was on the bottom. “Unbutton my shirt while I act out a fantasy.”
She reached for the first pearl button with shaky hands. Vincent’s tongue rimmed the bustier, its deep center. Her body quivered. The pleasure was unbelievably erotic. The only way she completed the task was by thinking she wanted to do the same thing to him.
Vincent found the zipper in the bustier and slowly drew it down, revealing lush breasts and pebble-hard nipples that begged for his attention. Not yet. He wanted to rush, but for Charlotte it would be the first time and, if he could keep his sanity, it would be one that she would always remember and cherish.
His hand drifted over the flesh he had uncovered, as gentle as a butterfly’s wing, as thorough as a cat licking cream, and that was exactly what he planned next. The tip of his tongue stroked first one turgid brown point, then the other.
Beneath him, Charlotte twisted. A slow heat was building between her thighs. Her legs moved restlessly. “Vincent?”
“I’m here.” His hand cupped her womanhood. She whimpered. Then he dipped one long finger inside her. Her hips came off the bed.
He stared into her eyes, eyes that were as hot as his. She leaned forward and curled her tongue around his nipple. Vincent couldn’t hold back a moan nor did he try to. However, when her hand closed around his manhood and stroked the length of him, he gritted his teeth and gently pushed her hand away.
“I did it wrong?”
“You did it too right.”
Her smile purely feminine, she went back to driving him crazy with her sweet mouth and nimble tongue, removing his clothes while he took enormous pleasure in acting out another fantasy in the way he got rid of her panties.
Flesh to flesh, heart to heart, they explored each other and loved each other on the way to the intimate bonding both had waited months to share.
Poised above her, he stared down at her and was gratified that he saw no hesitation, only love and desire. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
His hips moved to bring them together for the first time, then he was surrounded by her velvet heat. The fit was snug; the sensations exquisite. He loved her not only with his body, but with his heart and soul. She loved him back the same way. When her cry of fulfillment came, he was there with her, holding her as he always would.
The Southern lady had married her conservative Yankee scoundrel, and the fit was perfect.
the Blind Date
ONE
Tanner Rafferty, one of the most sought-after bachelors in Washington, D.C., had been stood up. In his thirty-six years he could count on one hand the number of times that had happened. However, if his sister Raine had been called out of town unexpectedly on business, at least she had ensured that he’d have a wonderful dinner at Leo’s.
Tanner sat back as his waitress, dressed in a slim black skirt and white blouse, cleared the remnants of his rare prime rib, cooked to perfection, while another waitress brought the coffee he’d ordered to be served after his meal.
He nodded his thanks and picked up the fine china cup. In the two weeks he’d been in town he’d heard a great deal about the popular supper club. Everyone from politicians to college students flocked in droves to Leo’s to dine, unwind, and lose themselves in the ambiance. Tonight, a Thursday, taped jazz flowed through the room like a haunting melody. It seemed the accolades he’d heard about the place weren’t superfluous after all.
No wonder Raine had insisted they dine here when she dropped in from Charleston that morning for an unexpected visit. A smile tugged the corners of Tanner’s sensual mouth. His baby sister was checking out the competition.
Raine was beautiful, intelligent, and as competitive as they came. It wasn’t a coincidence that she had chosen to have dinner at Leo’s, since she had recently added a supper club in Atlanta to her growing list of restaurants. In fact, the new supper club had been the reason for her quick departure. He didn’t have a doubt that whatever the problem, Raine would solve it. She’d go over, around, or through you, as tenacious as her two older brothers and father when it came to getting what she wanted. None of them believed in settling for less than the best or having their clients settle, either.
Their father, Thomas Rafferty III, had taught them never to be satisfied with the status quo, and that service was always the bottom line. As the smiling waitress approached Tanner’s table to refill his half-empty coffee cup, Tanner gave Leo’s additional points for an attentive staff.
He glanced appreciatively around the crowded restaurant with its elegant yet comfortable décor of Tiffany lamps on rosewood tables covered with white linen, the stained-glass, floor-to-ceiling narrow windows behind him, and the intricately patterned parquet area for dancing. Leo’s had style, something else he valued.
Tanner nodded to a U.S. senator from Texas and her escort who were leaving. The table was quickly cleaned and another couple seated. Knowing Raine would want a full report, he relaxed in his chair, sipping his coffee. It was a rare moment and he planned to take advantage of it. As a hotel developer and chief operating officer of ten Rafferty Hotels dotting the coast from Florida to D.C., he usually had nonstop twelve- to sixteen-hour days.
With the scheduled opening of his newest hotel, The Rafferty Grand, six weeks away, his life was about to become even more hectic. He didn’t mind. He loved what he did. There was a huge amount of responsibility but also the freedom to travel, to move from one city to the other where something new and different always waited for him. He was easily bored. His mother had often lamented that it was the reason he never stayed with one woman longer than a few weeks. In the hotel business, boredom was impossible.
In the weeks he’d been in D.C. he’d been confronted with numerous problems, from pacifying the temperamental consulting concept chef over the design of his kitchen, to the delay of the custom-made crystal chandeliers for the ballrooms, to the imported marble for the bathrooms in the suites. He’d solved each problem to his satisfaction. The opening of The Rafferty Grand would be on schedule and would be as spectacular as he had envisioned. The guests would be pampered in luxury and treated with the kind of old-fashioned southern hospitality and graciousness that he’d grown up with in Charleston.
Like Raine and their brother Adrian, who ran the Rafferty Resorts in the Virgin Islands, Tanner prided himself on service and customer satisfaction. All of his hotels were four-star. His aim was for The Rafferty Grand to be five.
He was about to put down his coffee cup and signal for his check when he looked up and saw her. For a long moment he just stared. In his lifetime he’d seen many beautiful women, but never one who stopped him in his tracks the way she did. Wondering why he hadn’t seen her sitting there before, he finally put down the cup as he realized the four men who had been sitting at the table in front of him had been obscuring his view of her.
The men’s bawdy conversation had been of easy women and tough choices in life. Tanner had tuned them out. He had excellent hearing, much to the chagrin of many of his employees. They had learned over the years that whispering was useless when he was around. Now he had no intention of ignoring the conversation of the woman in red whose skin was the color of sun-warmed honey.
A broa
d-shouldered man in a black raw-silk sports jacket showed a young couple to the vacant table. Tanner’s frown turned into a sigh of relief when they sat next to each other, leaving an unobstructed view of the woman. She was wearing a red sleeveless top with a high collar that framed her stunning face. Seated across from her was another young woman who waved her left hand expressively in the air as she talked. A diamond ring glinted on her third finger.
From the resigned expression on her face, the woman in red wasn’t thrilled with what was being said. One small, fine-boned hand, unfortunately the right, rested on the table near a half-full glass of red wine, then shoved its way impatiently though lustrous, short black curls.
Tanner absently stroked his full beard, then leaned forward and placed his arm on the table as if he were continuing to relax. He smoothed out his features and prepared to eavesdrop. He didn’t consider it rude, just necessary, if he were to find out more about the woman … like if she was already taken.
“Ayanna, George Collins is a fantastic catch,” Sheri said, her voice excited and rushed. “He comes from a very wealthy and influential family in Rochester. He’s been here about six months. He’s one of the best tax attorneys in the country. You two would have lots in common since you’re the accountant for Leo’s. You just have to go out with him Saturday night.”
Ayanna Hardcastle barely kept a grimace from her face as Sheri finally wound down and stared expectantly across the table at her. Sheri had been Ayanna’s best friend since high school. She agreed to meet her for dinner because she genuinely liked and admired her … when she wasn’t trying to fix her up. At least Sheri had waited until they’d finished dinner and Sarah, their waitress, wasn’t likely to return as frequently and learn that her boss couldn’t get a date on her own.
“Please, Ayanna,” Sheri said into the lengthening silence. “I’m sure you’ll like George much better than the others I set you up with.”