His Sister's Wedding (18 page)

"Just give it some time," Luke declared roughly. "It might be real, it might not.
You're both so damned young."

"I don't believe you," Scott said incredulously, coming to his feet. "When will you
accept that we're in love?"

Luke made a derisive sound in his throat, his face mocking.

"Yes," Scott shot back, his color higher. "In love. That won't be different in six
months or a year. We could wait five years and it wouldn't matter to you. You just
don't want her to ever get married. You want Mel to be as twisted about relationships
as you are!"

His words rang into a well of silence, echoing in the emotionally-charged atmosphere.

Melanie, who'd stood immobilized, now stepped forward. Standing physically between
the two men, she turned to her lover.

"Hush, Scott. We don't have to argue about this." She turned toward her brother, her
chin lifted. "We're getting married, as planned."

She brought up a pleading hand. "I'm sure about this, Luke. Very, very sure. Yes,
it'll be difficult going to school and being married. But it would be harder living
apart. I love him. Can't you understand?"

"No," Scott interjected, "he doesn't understand. Come on, Melanie. Let's get out of
here."

*   *   *

"They're spending the night in a hotel," Lillie said, walking into the kitchen where
Luke sat at the table.

He looked up. "They've left?"

"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "They said they wanted some time alone."

Luke looked away. "If she were a couple of years younger, I'd have him hauled off
for corrupting a minor."

"How could you start this?" Lillie asked him. "On Thanksgiving, of all days."

"She's my sister and I'm worried about her." His voice was low, his face unreadable
as usual.

Lillie shook her head slowly. "I don't believe that."

"What?"

She met his glare defiantly. "I don't think this is about Melanie. Regardless of how
you think of her, she's not a minor. She's a lovely young woman who's fully capable
of making her own decisions."

"How capable were you at nineteen?" he scoffed.

"It wouldn't matter if she were twenty-nine," Lillie declared. "None of this is because
they're too young. You're opposed to this marriage because your mother ran away with
a man she thought she was in love with. You don't think Melanie and Scott are really
in love because you were engaged at nineteen and your first love turned out to be
a faithless Jezebel."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked irritably, pushing back from the table.

"Angie."

Luke got up and walked to look out the back window, disgust in every movement. "This
situation has nothing to do with Angie. I told you, she's ancient history."

"She changed your life. Your mother first and then her," Lillie said, her voice wobbling
in the middle.

He turned his head sharply, skewering her with a look. "That's crap."

"You loved Angie," Lillie said softly, tears clogging her throat, "and she hurt you."

He swung around, coming to grasp her by the arms. "Don't be making up fairy tales
about me. I guess Mel told you about Angie, but you've got it all screwed up."

Lillie shook her head, aware of the heat of his hands where he held her. "I don't
think so. She was your first love and she betrayed you. Like your mother betrayed
your father."

"Christ." He flung away from her. "How many times do I have to tell you? All the hearts
and flowers crap means nothing. Yes, I was engaged to Angie and, yes, she dumped me.
Hell, she did me a favor."

"How can you say that?" Lillie demanded. "You opened your heart to her. Took a huge
chance when you were young and vulnerable--"

"Young and stupid," he finished, his voice cruel. "I was hot-headed and possessive.
She got tired of it. That's all. End of story. She didn't damage my young psyche.
She just helped me get clear on my priorities."

"Yes, she did that. She convinced you that you couldn't trust your heart, couldn't
rely on people."

"I rely on people," he said, his face shuttered again. "You just have to know what
to rely on them for."

"Love."

"What the hell does that mean anyway?" he demanded, pacing back to the window. "Do
you even know what you mean when you say that word?"

"Yes," the pit of her stomach felt like a knotted rope. "I mean letting someone mean
everything to you. Giving them the power to brighten you day or crush your world.
Needing them, only them. Counting on them when you need help. Loving them and letting
them love you."

Luke made a disgusted sound and then asked, "Who was the first man you ever slept
with?"

"What?" she said, bewildered by the sudden shift.

"Your first lover," he repeated, his gaze intent on her.

"Ah." Lillie went to the table and picked up a bowl, intending to store the leftovers.
She put the bowl down, Luke's question triggering remembrance. "His name was Steve.
We met in high school."

"And you thought you loved him," Luke said gently.

"Yes."

"But something happened," he went on in that too soft voice, "and you eventually went
your separate ways."

"It's not that simple," she shot back. "We wanted different things. He had a scholarship.
I was going to school here."

"Life happens that way sometimes," Luke said ironically. "But you thought you loved
him."

"I did love him," Lillie insisted. "He just didn't love me."

"And the next guy?"

She flung her head back, glaring at him. "I didn't date again for two years."

"Then another guy came along," Luke said inexorably. "And you fell for him, too."

"No," Lillie said. "I was lonely and I made a mistake. I knew it almost immediately,
but by then it was hard to get out of the relationship."

"Well, maybe you weren't in love, but he was. Right? He thought he loved you?"

"What exactly do you think you're proving with this?" she demanded. "That my life
has been less than perfect? That I've made mistakes and been confused? Okay, I acknowledge
that. What does that have to do with my brother and your sister? Or anything, for
that matter?"

"Everything," Luke responded, his smile sardonic.

"I don't think so," she said. "At least, I've been out there, taking chances. Risking.
You're hiding from life."

"My point is that basing your relationships on 'love' hasn't gotten you anywhere.
Romance and fairy dust aren't good foundations for the future. That kind of thing
comes and goes like the wind."

"No. Not true love."

"Geez." He shoved an exasperated hand through his hair. "And how the hell is anyone
supposed to know the difference between 'true' love and untrue love? What if Scott
and Melanie are as confused as you and your first lover were? They'll be making a
huge mistake to get married."

"They're not in high school," she reminded him.

"Twenty and twenty-one aren't that much better than sixteen and seventeen."

"Of course, it's better. If they can vote and be sent to war, they're old enough to
make the more intimate decisions in their lives."

"You'd think so," he said with heavy irony.

"Getting married has to be a mistake for them because it would have been for you...or
for me? Scott and Melanie aren't your average goof-offs. They're going to school,
getting the grades. Taking care of their future."

Luke met her gaze.

"This is about you," she insisted. "You and your broken heart. You and your inability
to take a chance on getting hurt again."

"No."

"Yes," she insisted, her voice husky with a welter of emotion. Longing and need. Sadness.
They'd talked about love in the abstract. About Scott and Melanie. But nothing about
themselves.

She loved him so much it felt like her heart were spilling over. It had become a need,
like water and air. She needed him, needed him to...need her.

"Tell me," Lillie said, "if love is fairy dust, what do you want from a woman? From
me?"

He crossed the room in an instant, drawing her into his arms. "Sure as hell not fairy
dust."

Pulling her close to his body, he buried his face in the heavy fall of her hair.

"I want this," he said thickly.

"Sex," she said, her voice shaking. "That's all?"

Luke turned his face into the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her sensitive
skin.

Her body vibrating with fear and sadness, hunger and longing, she let her head fall
back, reveling in the magic of his touch. The natural scent of him filled her lungs.

"I'm not the kind of man to put roses on your pillow," he said, his voice rough. "But
I can give you this."

His hand skimmed along her neck, cradling her head in his palm. "And this."

Lillie closed her eyes as he trailed kisses along her jaw. How much she loved him.

Drawing her body hard against his, he kissed her, his mouth seducing her, hot and
insistent. He tasted of wine-sweet desire, heated and drugging. She sagged against
him, clinging to his broad shoulders. Words didn't work, bouncing back and forth like
crazed pingpong balls. But this, the touch of their bodies, the hunger catching at
her breath. This way she could tell him how she felt.

His lips rocked over hers, teasing, plundering, worshipping. Kissing him back as if
she were starving, Lillie poured everything into her touch. He was so special, so
wonderful. And he'd been hurt so badly. With the stroke of her tongue, the urgency
of her hands on his body, she loved him. He deserved this. Deserved to be loved without
boundaries.

Shifting her in his arms, Luke kept his mouth against hers, holding her cradled in
one arm. With his free hand he slowly unbuttoned her high-necked dress, button by
button, till he brushed the fabric aside and lay his hand against her thundering heart.

Lost in the heat of their kiss, all thought long since flung aside, she clutched him
as if by the very desperation of her touch, she could draw him closer. Tug him into
her soul. The whisper of his touch skated over her as he loosened her dress, then
the warmth of his strong hand against her breast.

Plunging her tongue into his mouth, Lillie squirmed against him, urgent and restless,
on fire for the consummation ahead. She pulled his shirt loose from his khakis and
skimmed her hands up over the powerful planes of his back.

Locked together, they devoured each other, one kiss spilling into the next, the sound
of their breathing harsh and urgent. Slowly, Luke smoothed his hand over the slope
of her breast, his touch drawing a moan from her lips.

Grasping the belt loops of his pants, she pressed against him, pelvis to pelvis and
drew a sharp breath of excitement when she felt the heavy evidence of his desire for
her.

This time it was Luke who groaned as she rocked against him, her hands skating up
his back under his shirt. Within a minute, he'd loosened the next six buttons down
the front of her dress. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he tugged the top of
her dress down her arms, letting it fall.

Covering her breasts with his hands, he cupped her through the satin and lace of her
bra.

Lillie's head fell back as he trailed kisses along her bared throat, his mouth hot
and wet against her skin. Her breasts felt tight and warm, confined within the silken
cups. Within an instant, he freed her, kneeling before her to draw one turgid nipple
into his mouth.

Writhing in his arms where he held her hips imprisoned, she struggled to pull his
shirt off, longing to feel their bare skin in contact. Luke pulled back, releasing
her breast with one last tug. He shrugged himself out of his shirt and threw it to
the floor before drawing her back against him, his mouth at her other breast.

She cradled his head, the throbbing hunger flooding her body as she grew ever more
urgent to have him inside, their bodies locked in that most intimate of passions.

He brushed her dress down over her hips, pressing his open mouth to her bare stomach.
Shudders of pleasure raced through her as she clung to his shoulders.

Then, he abruptly tugged her panties down, his hand sliding gently between her legs.
Lillie cried out.

Without a word, Luke stood.

Scooping her into his arms, he carried her out of the kitchen, crossing the living
area in long strides. Within a minute, she found herself naked on her eyelet-covered
bed, Luke kneeling between her legs. She drew him down, moaning her pleasure when
his body joined with hers.

With every touch, every whispering kiss, each stroke of her body welcoming his, she
loved him. Loved him in the press of her lips at his throat. Loved him with all her
body and soul.

He thrust hard and fast above her, his breath harsh in the room's dimness. Each stroke
like a brush of heaven, his body in hers, she clung to him, the breathless, shimmering
sensations breaking over her.