Confessions of the World's Oldest Shotgun Bride (18 page)

“Yeah. In a good way.” His voice was like warm syrup. He held out his hand. “Come to bed.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” She took his hand and they walked across the petals in their bare feet, stopping next to the bed. He pulled her cover-up open. “You’re so beautiful, Mrs. Tyler.”

She shrugged out of the cover-up and let it float to the floor, settling around her feet like a cloud. In just the thin nightgown, she might as well have been naked. Suddenly she felt self-conscious. He was right. Things had changed between them. They were bound together by something bigger than both of them. She shook her head. “You’re my husband.”

“I sure am.” Smiling the smile that always made her wet between the legs, he pushed her onto the bed and moved her hands to the waistband of his white silk boxers. “I belong to you now. Take what’s yours.”

Her hands shook like a 6.0 magnitude earthquake as she tugged at the boxers, the material smooth to the touch, and slid them to his ankles. His cock peeked out from under his dress shirt, saluting her. Her mouth turned to sand and her heart pounded.

She scooped up a handful of rose petals and let them drift back to the bed. “No other man has ever done anything so romantic for me.”

“I’m the man you were meant to be with, baby.”

“Oh yes, yes, yes.” She tugged on his hand, pulling him onto the bed on his back. Grabbing a handful of petals, she rubbed them into his bare chest. “Mine.”

He pulled her down next to him. “Mine.” His hand slid under her nightgown, finding a hard, swollen nipple. “All mine. No other man gets to touch these.”

He cupped the soft tissue of her breast in his hand and swirled his thumb around the nipple. The shot of heat to her groin easily outweighed the twinge of pain from her tender breast. She moaned.

He drew back. “Am I hurting you?”

Damn it. He must have seen her flinch. “They’re a little sensitive. Nothing serious.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, God no. They want your attention more than ever. Just be gentle.” She gave his a sly smile. “You have a very gentle tongue.”

Taking the hint, he took her nipple in his mouth and teased it with soft flicks of his tongue. Her pleasure was close to unbearable. She slid a leg over his and ground her pelvis against him. He pulled her nightgown to her waist, giving him access to the part of her straining for release, and stuck a finger inside her channel. She wouldn’t have minded prolonging the tension, but the instant his finger brushed her clit, her body convulsed and she screamed out her fulfillment.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, continuing to stroke her. The aftershocks rippled through her and she couldn’t stop coming. Not that she wanted to. She looped her arms around his neck, arching into him. “Steven,” she whispered.

He spread her legs wider. “Open up for me, Katie.”

Oh yes. At this moment, that was what she wanted—to open up every part of her to him—her body, her mind, her heart, her soul. To belong to him completely, without holding anything back.

“I love you, Katie,” he said as he entered her. She gasped. He was so big and so hot and so very, very hard. The ripples increased to waves and then to glorious full-blown climaxes, and she knew she’d been changed forever.

* * *

Steve awoke and realized the other side of the bed was empty. He sat up and saw Katie standing next to the window, naked and unselfconscious, staring out at the garish neon lights of the strip. He padded up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t like this bed.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“My wife isn’t in it.” He rested his cheek against hers and plucked a rose petal from her hair. “What are you thinking?”

She pressed her hand against the windowpane and spread her fingers. “Once we leave fantasyland, I’ll have to face the music.”

“If anyone gives you a hard time, be the Ice Queen and stare them down. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

“Not everyone would agree. I shouldn’t have seduced you in Cayman.”

“Seduced me?” His laugh tickled her neck. “As if. I seduced you. The moment you pulled that trick with your tongue and the cherry, I decided to take you to bed.”

“But you didn’t know it would lead to so much trouble.”

“What trouble? It’s all good. I gained a family.”

“A family...” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Steve... what if there’s something wrong with the baby?”

He stiffened. “Why would you think that? Did the doctor say something to you?”

“No, but the risks are higher because of my age, and I can’t have the genetic tests for another few weeks.”

He slid his arms down to her stomach. His voice was rough with emotion. “There’s nothing wrong with the baby. She’s perfect.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do. Maybe not scientifically, but I know it in my gut.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I wish I had your confidence. You’re so brave. Your job’s dangerous, but you’re never afraid.”

“The job’s not that dangerous. I trust my training, I trust my wingman, and I trust my equipment.”

All this worrying had to be bad for her, and for the baby. She needed distracting. He cupped his hands around her breasts, loving how heavy they felt, and pressed his erection into her back. “Relax.”

Her body tensed, but it was a good tense, a hot-and- bothered kind of tense. Her voice came out in a purr. “I can trust my wingman.”

“Roger that.” His fingers found her slick, wet core.

She wiggled against him. “And I can trust the equipment.”

“You can definitely trust the equipment.” He slid into her from behind. “Relax and let go, Katie.”

With a shudder, she did.

* * *

“Son of a bitch,” Kathryn said out loud. She’d just closed her PowerPoint presentation when she’d meant to close the Word document with her non-erotic to-do list, then compounded the error by clicking “no” when asked if she wanted to save the changes. An hour’s worth of work now resided in a black hole in cyberspace.

This so wasn’t like her. She didn’t lose focus at the office. Ever. And she couldn’t afford to start now. Even though she was still tingling all over, remembering how Steve had made slow, sleepy love to her that morning.

The office door creaked open and Janelle’s head peeked around the edge. “Sounds like you’re ready for your coffee.”

Kathryn gave her assistant a grateful smile. “More than ready. In desperate need.”

Janelle stepped into the room carrying a white and green Starbuck’s cup. “Venti decaf latte. You still want decaf?”

Kathryn’s eyes shifted to her monitor and the still-open to-do list: “Make OB-GYN appointment. Call Amanda to schedule consultation about decorating nursery. Research nannies.” Evidence that she now had responsibilities that were bigger and scarier than any business plan.

“Yes. I need to avoid caffeine.”

“Here you are, then.” Janelle handed Kathryn the cup and frowned. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you sick? Do you have an ulcer or something?”

“No. I’m perfectly healthy.” Which was true. Maybe too true.

“I’m worried about you. You’ve practically stopped eating, your stomach’s upset all the time, and you left early on Friday.” Janelle’s face took on a guarded look. “Of course you’re allowed...”

“But it’s not like me,” Kathryn finished, smiling to reassure Janelle. She held out her left hand, showing off the new ring that still made her finger itch. “I took the day off to get married.”

Kathryn was glad the cup had already changed hands, or she’d have been wearing the coffee instead of drinking it. Janelle’s eyes widened. “Who did you marry?”

“The flower guy.”

A broad smile warmed Janelle’s face, and Kathryn’s heart. “I’m so happy you finally have something in your life besides work.” The younger woman shook her head. “But I have to say, I didn’t see this one coming.”

Kathryn leaned back in her executive chair. “I heard my biological clock ticking and realized it was time to start a family.” A reasonable explanation—even if to be technical, the realization hadn’t come until after the family was started.

“Then you’re planning to get pregnant right away?”

“I’m a little past the planning stage.” Kathryn’s voice turned gentle. “I’m going to have a baby in October, Jan.”

“Wow.” The syllable carried a mixture of shock, amazement, and more than a touch of admiration. “You decide to have a baby, and just like that, it’s done.”

“Getting pregnant was easier than I thought it would be,” Kathryn admitted with a wry smile. “Marty will be scandalized.”

“Probably. Forget the twenty-first century, he hasn’t made it to the twentieth. But I think it’s great.”

“What do you think of my choice for the father? Are you shocked?”

“Why would I be? He obviously has great genes.”

“You don’t think he’s too young for me?”

“No way. Successful men have trophy wives, so why shouldn’t you have a trophy husband?”

That was exactly the spin she wanted to put on her sudden marriage. But Steve was more than a trophy, more than a boy toy or arm candy. The better Kathryn got to know him, the more she knew that. Brushing aside that inconvenient truth, she leered and answered, “Damn right. I
deserve
a trophy husband.”

* * *

“I’m leaving now, and you should too. It’s Friday night. In fact it’s nearly six on Friday night. Go home.”

At the sound of Janelle’s voice, Kathryn jerked upright in her chair and fought to open her drooping eyelids all the way. She hadn’t noticed her assistant coming into the office.

“I can’t. Not until I finish editing the financial proposal the team turned in this morning.”

“You’ve already gone over the proposal twice. Any more fine tuning can wait until Monday.”

“No it can’t. Now that the office grapevine is working overtime on my personal life, I don’t want anyone to think I’ve lost my edge.”

Janelle put her hands on her hips. “You need to start taking better care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I plan to spend most of the weekend sleeping.” Kathryn shook her head. “Sleep—the pregnant woman’s drug of choice. I may not be eating for two, but I sure am sleeping for two.”

Fifteen minutes after Janelle left, as Kathryn was shutting down her computer, she heard a noise in her outer office. Damn it! The last thing she needed was someone coming in now with a Friday night crisis. “Go away,” she called out. “If you have an emergency, call 911.”

A familiar muscled blond form appeared in her doorway. “I have an emergency. I can’t find my wife.”

“Steve!” Kathryn bolted out of her chair and rushed toward the door.

Moving like a wild creature closing in on its prey, Steve met her half way and lifted her off her feet, twirling her around in a full circle. Even in his dull olive drab flight suit, he seemed to glow. He was slightly sweaty, but instead of being unpleasant, the scent enhanced his intense masculinity. He set her down and pinned her against the wall. “Damn you feel good, Mrs. Tyler.”

She threw her arms around his neck and melted into him, her heart pounding and her nerve endings pulsing. He slid a leg between hers and pressed against her, locking them together like two pieces of a puzzle. She made a soft mewing sound.

He lowered his mouth to hers, but instead of kissing her, he took her lower lip in his mouth and sucked. She pressed her body against his, aching with raw need.

He released her mouth and loosened his hold on her. “We need to celebrate.”

Her smile quivered as she tried to regain some control of her body. “You’re in a good mood. Is the exercise over?”

“It wrapped up today. We finished the out-briefing at fifteen hundred.”

“I take it you did well?”

“I kicked ass. The squadron commander gave me a personal attaboy.”

Kathryn smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too. When do I get to show you off to the guys in the squadron?”

Her jaw tightened. Just what she needed, to face a whole crowd of Murphs, all waiting to judge her. “We’ll talk about that when I get back from San Diego. Right now, you deserve a reward.” She leaned in and kissed him, a hungry, searching kiss, all panting and tangling tongues, and reached for the zipper of his flight suit.

He stopped her by grabbing her hand. “Take me home,” he whispered.

“I like how you think. We can stop for a pizza on the way so once we get home, we don’t have to leave the bedroom.”

“I don’t mean home to your place... our place. I mean, take me home to meet your mother.”

Talk about a buzzkill! Kathryn dropped her arms and slumped against the wall. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I like you.”

“C’mon, Katie, I’m serious. I’m tired of lying to Mom and Dad.”

“You haven’t lied. You’ve just left out a few details.”

He laid a hand on her stomach. “Not telling them about something as important as my wife and child is the same as lying.”

Damn, he was honorable. Which at the moment was damned inconvenient. “Okay, so we’ll call and tell them.”

“No. I want to tell them in person. I owe them that much, considering we didn’t invite them to the wedding.” He leaned forward and pulled her back into his arms. “You know you’re going to have to face your mother some time.”

“How about when the baby graduates from high school?”

His voice took on an edge of impatience. “Katie...”

Inwardly Kathryn sighed. Steve was right. There was no point putting this trip off. On some level she’d known that before he’d said anything, even though her mind was thoroughly submerged in that river in Egypt, denial. She might as well be a good sport about it.

She gave him a teasing grin. “I could tell Mother I have a watermelon stuck under my dress.”

He returned her grin. “I’m glad you came up with such a practical solution. No wonder you’re considered a business genius.”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t work. She’d give me a lecture about wasting good fruit when children are starving in... where is it children are starving these days? Haiti?”

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “We’ll hop in the Corvette first thing in the morning and be in the old neighborhood in time for lunch.”