Shameless (14 page)

“Oh, Phillip, Phillip, my darling…. When I drove off from The Saddlebag I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that you wouldn't want me. I was in hell.”

“Me, too. I love you.”

Tenderness at his velvet, reverent tone burst inside her like a new flower even before he put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. Gently, without speaking, they held on to each other. Then he kissed her, a deep, long kiss that Celeste wished would go on forever.

Their souls and hearts were in that kiss.

“Forever,” she whispered. “No more goodbyes. Only you.”

“Forever.”

He patted his pocket. “It's a good thing I held on to this big chunk of ice.” He pulled out a familiar black velvet box and opened it.

“Oh, Phillip—” When she looked at it and then at him, her blue eyes flashed with more fire than his diamond.

“I've been carrying it around, waiting for the right moment.”

“Looks like you found it.”

He slipped it onto her finger. Bringing her hand to his
mouth, he kissed each fingertip. Not saying anything, he gazed into her eyes.

“Oh, Phillip—”

“Home. You've come home,” he whispered. “To me, where you belong.”

T
he long white limousine raced through gray storm clouds and thick driving rain toward the Lazy W. Dozens of cans tied to the back bumper rattled noisily behind them.

“Not very good planning…getting married during a hurricane,” Celeste whispered as Phillip kissed her.

“Tropical depression,” he corrected gently.

In the rear seat of the vehicle, the bride and groom soon forgot the cans and the rain or the damp satin streamers glued to the trunk of the car. They were kissing and holding each other so tightly, their bodies seemed glued together.

After another long kiss that left her breathless, Celeste held up her hand and gazed at her rings. All day, all during the reception, she hadn't been able to stop looking at them.

“Mrs. Phillip Westin,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “Oh, darling, I can't believe you did it.”

“We did it.”

“I'm a respectable married woman.”

“Don't let it go to your head. I mean, I don't want you to start acting…too respectable.”

“You mean in bed?”

“Exactly.”

She laughed. “I can't believe the whole town came to our wedding. Why, the reception at the Lone Star Country Club filled the club to its maximum capacity.”

“And maybe then some.” He grinned. “Free food and booze. It's going to cost us.”

“I don't care. Everybody was so nice to me.”

She still couldn't believe that the town accepted her because Phillip had chosen her to be his wife. They didn't care who she'd been before or if her wedding gown was low-cut and clung to every curve.

Now she was somebody, really somebody. Finally she had a family and a home…even a town to call home. She was loved and accepted. She was safe.

When the chauffeur pulled up to the big white house and got out and opened their door, Phillip wasted no time in getting her out of the rain. As soon as Celeste managed to get out of the car, he gathered her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and through the front door.

Inside, he let her go even though his eyes continued to hold her. Her knees felt weak because at last they were alone again. She knew what he wanted, what he'd wanted ever since the preacher had made them one.

Without speaking she reached up and began to undo the studs of his shirt. He slipped out of his tuxedo jacket as eagerly as if this was their first time. Soon she had the studs undone, and she'd managed to get him out of his shirt, too. He flung it on the floor impatiently, and she wrapped her hands around his lean waist.

His brown skin was hot. His eyes burned her.

“Oh, Phillip…”

“I can't wait,” he said. “But then, I never can.”

“Who says you have to? We're married.”

“All those guests… I thought they'd dance forever.”

“They're still dancing,” she said. “We're the only ones who snuck out early.”

“It's our honeymoon. We're entitled,” he murmured, kissing her earlobe.

With awkward hands, he began to unfasten the tiny satin buttons at the back of her dress.

Then they were on the floor, and he covered her with his body. She closed her eyes and ran her hands over his thighs.

She felt something touch her abdomen, and she began to tingle all over. She giggled and grabbed at his hand blindly. “What…”

“Don't open your eyes,” he whispered, “or I'll have to blindfold you.”

Satin ribbons curled over her nipples, her eyelashes, and her throat. And then he touched her with something ice-cold.

“What's that?”

“Just be quiet. Enjoy.”

“But it's kinky.”

“Only the first time.”

She knew Phillip deserved a proper, virginal bride. Not her. And yet he had told her over and over he wanted no one else.

She kept her eyes shut and surrendered to the sense of touch. For a long time different sensations played over her until she was quivery and nervy, and still he wouldn't take her. Then he licked her in sensitive places,
and still with her eyes closed, she licked and touched him back.

He leaned over her. “Wrap me with your legs.”

Instantly her legs came around him. When he drove inside her, thunder clashed outside and rain began to beat at the windows with gale force. The storm wasn't nearly as wild as she felt.

He said her name above the roar of the storm and she whispered his.

Never had she felt so hot or so desired. She was married. She belonged to him—utterly.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you, Mrs. Phillip Westin.”

Then he came, and she exploded, too.

“Being married just makes it better,” she whispered a long time later.

“Every day, I'll love you more,” he said.

“Oh, me, too. Me, too. You're my dream, my everything.”

“Sing to me,” he murmured.

“Nobody but you,” she began. “Only you…” Her throat was suddenly too tight to sing.

“Don't ever say goodbye,” he commanded.

“Everywhere I go, there's nobody in my heart…only you.” She paused. “Enough singing.”

“But not nearly enough loving—” He picked her up and carried her to bed.

“It's about time, cowboy,” she purred when her golden head hit the pillow and he covered her with his much larger body.

She circled him with her arms.

He was all man, all hers, at last, forever.