A Taste of Honey (12 page)

“Our cue I believe.” He took her hand, led her to the center of the room, and dreamingly spun her around the room to a cacophony of applause by their guests.

Charli glanced to her left and was pleasantly surprised to see her father dancing with Ester Knight. Her father was actually flirting with Will’s mother. Charli silently gave her approval. Anything that would bring her father back into the world of the living was all right with her, and if it took Ester Knight to do it; then so be it.

“Hey, I seem to be losing you.” And he pressed her neatly into his body.

When this was over she’d be alone with him. What would they talk about? What would he do? Would they make love? Her body reacted at the thought and she wondered if Will sensed it.

“Anything wrong?”

“Wrong? No, of course not,” she whispered, but was relieved when the dance was over and they were back at their wedding table and Will became occupied with a guest.

How she got through the rest of the preliminaries was a mystery to her. After the wedding breakfast was over, the cake cut and the champagne drunk, she made her excuses and left to change out of her wedding outfit. Although they were not leaving until all the guests had left, she didn’t want to remain in her wedding dress for the entire afternoon.

She returned a half an hour later, refreshed and feeling a lot calmer. The lime green dress knit from Peruvian alpaca yarn was perfect. She’d worn the pearls Will had given her with her wedding dress, and now she chose to wear a sacred Inca Tumi, believed to protect the wearer from negative forces and possess the power of eternal love. Judy had given it to her for a special wedding gift.

Will rose to greet her as she slipped into the seat beside him. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You smell great,” he whispered.

“Thank the intrigue of Mystere de Rochas. As it says on the box, ‘a fragrance of depth and mystery.’”

“My thanks to the manufacturers,” he said and pushed a small red box toward her. “And my wedding gift to you.”

She was truly amazed. “Gift! But Will, I never got you one.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Merely for the sake of the audience,” he said, flinging his hand out carelessly toward their guests. “One must keep up the correct protocol.” Oddly crestfallen, she managed an ineffectual smile.

She opened the small box and gave a tiny gasp. Nestled inside the crushed velvet was a pair of diamond earrings. “Oh, Will, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” She removed the pearl earrings she was wearing and fastened in his gift.

“Thought they matched the twinkle in your eyes.”

It was a nice thing for him to say, a simple thing, yet it caused her heart to beat frantically in her chest. She was so in love with him. What to do about it? Was there an elixir she could take that would kill off her love for Will? And if there was would she truly swallow it?

• • •

“Went rather well,” he said ushering her into the car.

She didn’t answer, but huddled silently in the seat. They’d made the short trip to his home. He drew the car to a halt under the carport. They got out of the car and she preceded him to the front door.

She gave a small gasp as he swept her into his arms. “The traditional wedding needs to be followed through by the traditional carrying over the threshold.”

“Put me down, Will.”

“Not until we’re inside.”

He kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe and placed her on her feet.

He moved into the living room, and crashed down into a large sofa. “God, I’m bushed. I’ll be glad to go to bed.” He stared directly into her eyes and her heart thundered. She felt giddy and slightly disorientated.

She moved toward the large window and peered outside. “It’s only dusk,” she said quietly. “Far too early for bed.”

He didn’t answer her.

She opened the double glass doors and walked out onto a large balcony. Noticing stairs on the left side of the balcony she called back to him. “Where do these stairs lead?”

“To a rooftop garden and swimming pool,” he called back. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

She leaned her hands on the rail of the balcony and stared out at the darkening shapes. The moon was slung down low over the city, its rays shimmering, splitting the sky into two. The witches’ moon her father used to say, and, as a child, she’d believed him literally. She’d stared and stared at the moon and the harder she’d look, the more she could make out the figure of a witch crouched upon a broom.

A chill passed through her. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her chest.

Suddenly he touched her shoulder and she jumped nervously. “Hey, it’s only me. Would you like a drink?”

She nodded. “That’d be great.”

A drink, a drink, my kingdom for a drink,
the words raced stupidly through her mind. Ease up Charli girl, you’re running the wild road here. Take a drink, calm down, and relax.

“Champagne?”

“No, not champagne. I’d like a tomato juice.”

“The baby?”

“Alcohol’s a no-no. I had a sip of champagne at the wedding to keep our secret about the baby.”

He returned and handed her a drink. She sipped the icy liquid, grateful for its cooling effect on her suddenly parched throat.

“It’s a lovely house,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I like it very much. I thought at first I’d modernize it, but now I think that would be a pity.”

“Oh, don’t change anything, Will. It’s perfect.”

He bowed his dark head. “Your word is my command.”

He took a step closer. Her heart beat so painfully. “The colors are so restful.”

“The colors?”

She pointed toward the interior of the room and his gaze followed her pointing finger. “Iris blue and lemon.”

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose they are restful.”

He moved in a step closer. She moved two away from him.

“It must be hard to keep clean.”

His head jerked back slightly. “Excuse me?”

“The sofa, being lemon, keeping it clean I mean, it must be difficult, I should think.” Oh God, she was rambling. “Still I expect you have extra special detergents, or some such thing.”

“I have a housekeeper, a Mrs. Plunkett, who comes in four days a week, a more than capable woman.” He peered down at her. “You’re not one of those women who want to do her own housework, are you?”

“Heck no. Housework and me are enemies from way back. It’ll be great never having to clean and polish anymore.”

“You’ve got better things to do with your time.”

It wasn’t what he said, it was the way he said it. He moved in closer. Charli looked nervously left and then right. There wasn’t much room for her to move. He was enclosing her into a trap … his trap. If you make love with him, you’re doomed. Be strong. Be vigilant.

He bent his head. Her eyes crossed as his mouth came closer and closer. Blinking, she raised her glass and drained it. She thrust the glass toward him, forcing him to pull back from her.

“Care for another?” he said.

She was flooded with relief, albeit temporary, that he would be leaving her, giving her time to regain some sort of composure. “Yes, please.”

She took several deep breaths of the cool night air. The suddenly black night sky shone the moon a brilliant orange. A million stars were cobwebbed across the sky from the tip of the moon to the beginning of the world. Somewhere in the background she heard the soft strum of guitars and a fragrance, not unlike jasmine, enveloped her. Her senses reeled and she put out her hand to steady herself.

Pull yourself together, Charli girl, you’re a grown woman. And you can bet your last cent that Will arranged this whole kit and caboodle.

“Enjoying the view?” his voice was soft and soothing. It lulled her.

She took the proffered drink. “Yes.”

“It’s getting cold. Wouldn’t you rather come inside?”

“No, it’s not cold. I mean the night’s cold, but I’m not cold, because I’m warm you see.”
Idiot, you idiot, it’s the middle of winter, for God’s sake.
And she was doing it again, babbling like a brook. Don’t lose control of the situation. Keep ahold of your senses. But she was so darn nervous.

He removed the glass from her trembling hand. “Well I’m cold, so please me by coming inside.” He placed the glasses on a small cane table, placed his hand around her waist and steered her inside.

She walked to the corner of the room; picked up a magazine and pretended to browse through it. The words were a blurred mess.

“Planning on gardening?”

“What?”

“You’re reading Earth Garden. Are you a greenie?”

She flung the magazine to the floor. “I was simply browsing through,” she said.

“Do you want to change?”

“Yes.” She was so dreadfully shy. Completely unsure of what to do or say.

“Have a shower.” He was practically ordering her, and she felt powerless to prevent him from doing so.

“I’d like first to see where I’m sleeping.”

He grinned. She likened it to a pit bull terrier gnawing through your leg. “You’ll be sleeping with me.”

“Oh no, that’s where you’re wrong. We had an agreement. Each to his own. I insist on my own room.”

A flash of annoyance. “We’re married.”

“And that’s enough for any mortal woman to contend with.”

“That’s fine by me,” he said as he preceded her out of the living room and up the stairs. “This is my room. You can take any of the others.”

“I’ll take this one,” she said, indicating the one next to his. Why hadn’t she worked out the sleeping arrangements before the wedding? And why was she so disappointed that he hadn’t argued with her?

He grunted. Walked into his bedroom. Returned carrying her suitcases. He placed them near the bed. “Everything to your satisfaction?”

“Perfect.”

He touched her hair. She drew back. “Rice,” he explained.

“Oh.”

He ran his finger across her bottom lip. “Wedding cake.”

“Wedding cake?”

He kissed her mouth. “Impulse,” he said.

“I always go with an impulse.”

He kissed her brow, her eyes, her cheek, down to nuzzle her neck. She held her breath. He unbuttoned the back of her dress. “Like to help anyway I can.”

“I always need help.”

Her dress pooled around her feet. He pulled her into him, his fingers fumbling with the hooks of her bra. She stood before him clad only in her brief lace panties. He touched the sacred Inca Tumi? “Lovely,” he said.

“It protects the wearer from negative forces and possesses the power of eternal love.”

“Is it working?”

“I don’t know.”

He traced the outline of the necklace with his fingertip. Trailing down her belly, circling her navel and threading his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties. His hand ran over the smoothness of her hipline. She shivered.

He stood back and admiration flashed into his eyes. She was wonderfully alive, and past caring what was right or wrong. She wanted Will. She trembled as he ran his hands lightly over her breasts. Her nipples tightened. A zigzag of pleasure speared the nub of her.

“Undress me,” he said softly.

With trembling fingers, she slipped his coat from his shoulders. His tie and shirt followed. Sweet seduction filled her as she slipped the belt from his slacks.

He was naked and he was more magnificent than she remembered.

He was broad of shoulder and slim hips. His skin was evenly tanned and the muscles rippled with each move he made. It was obvious he worked out, the sinewy muscles in his arms and chest were testament to that.

Her eyes traveled down his chest to his fascinating naval, to the thick thatch of hair trailing down to his penis. My God, this man lacked nothing.

She closed her eyes tightly but the image of him danced before her eyes. Her eyes flew open. He had his back to her placing his watch on the bureau. His sculpted back. The deep indentation of his spine. The manly curve of his hips and the tightness of his backside excited her. She ached to run her hands over the smoothness of his skin.

Furiously her heart thumped. Her blood pressure rose as desire swept through her. She stirred. Her sex throbbed. Whatever else Will was, he was desirable.

He turned and smiled. Her heart melted. “Take your panties off for me.”

She wiggled out of her underwear, kicking them away with her foot.

With one easy movement, he lifted her into his arms and placed her on the bed. He kissed her hair, her brow, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and finally her waiting mouth.

His hand pressed her breast. Her arm wrapped around his neck as she brought his mouth down. He suckled her.

His mouth left her breast and claimed hers in a wild and passionate kiss. He loomed over her. His dark head bowed. Where his mouth touched, electricity burned.

He found the essence of her.

A myriad of sensations flooded her. The sweet anticipating thrill in her groin.

Her body rocked.

Her heart thundered.

More alive than she’d ever been.

He lowered himself upon her. She welcomed the sensual weight of him. They rotated their bodies. She wrapped her legs around his hips. Clasped her arms around his shoulders. He buried his head in the cradle of her neck.

“I love you,” she said as he entered her.

His hand slid beneath her waist as he dove deeper inside her.

He grunted as they went into rhythm.

She held him as if she would never release him. Her fingertips pressed into his back, her nails dug into his flesh, and Will groaned as if the pain thrilled him.

“I love you,” she repeated in her delirium.

He collapsed on top of her. He’d uttered no words of love or affection.

She placed a trembling hand on his hair. It was damp with perspiration. She stroked his back and shoulders.

She’d never understood what love was all about until now. Never knew what giving meant, until now. Never realized what it was like to love another more than herself, until now … until Will.

She kissed the top of his head. He moaned softly.

He held out his arm and she cradled into him. “We can make a go of this marriage,” he said.

Don’t say anything. Don’t make it mundane. Let me pretend, if only for this night, that you love me.