Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (37 page)

He kept kissing her, doing these absolutely amazing things with his tongue.

Her breasts ached, heavy and taut, eager to feel the caress of his fingers, to construct memories she would never forget. If this was the only night she spent with him, Delaney would remember it forever. They might be fated for only a hot, quick fling, but this joining would stand out as one of the greatest points of her life.

For better or for worse, she was going to make love with Nick Vinetti, and she knew without a doubt that it was going to be the most splendid sex of her life.

Her abdomen melted into a steamy puddle of hungry lust, and the most feminine part of her clenched in a desperate cry for release.

As if reading her mind, Nick pushed her legs apart with his knee and leaned forward until his erection branded her skin. The head of his penis thrust firmly against the throbbing head of her clitoris.

Delaney could not have prevented her hips from arching upward if a tornado had blown the roof right off the building, swept them over the rainbow and into Oz.

Nick groaned, his lips vibrating against her mouth. He broke their kiss, trailed his lips down to the underside of her jaw, and nipped her skin just hard enough to send a jolt of powerful need straight through her entire body.

While planting more erotic love bites along her throat, he ground his pelvis against hers, in long sinuous strokes that let her know she had not been mistaken about his potency.

He kept up the steady rocking, driving her deeper and deeper into the savage wanting that was changing everything she had ever known about herself and what she was capable of.

She reached up and pressed a palm to his chest, intending on restraining him until her mind caught up with what her body was doing. But instead of putting on the brakes and telling him she needed more time, that this was moving too fast, her head was reeling, she felt the wild pounding of his restless heart.

He was as crazy for her as she was for him.

I’m responsible for this,
Delaney thought in awe. She’d never caused Evan to react in this manner, and she felt as giddy as if she’d drunk a whole bottle of champagne by herself.

She couldn’t get over how wonderful he looked—firm biceps, taut abs, manly shoulders, tousled hair. Or how powerful she felt. It was freedom of the most delicious kind. With Nick, she didn’t have to gauge her response and adjust accordingly. She didn’t have to pretend. She could just be.

His eyes were open wide, and he was staring at her as if she was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. The look made her blush. She felt the hot flush.

“Rosy,” he whispered. “Oh, Rosy, don’t be embarrassed with me.”

“But that’s just it,” she whispered. “That’s the glory of it. I’m not, I’m not.”

“So why are you blushing?”

“Because,” she said, “all my life, I’ve tried to be perfect and fell far short of my goal. But then you came and I stopped trying to be perfect and now, when I look into your eyes and see the way that you see me, I finally feel perfect at last.”

Tears misted his eyes and he swallowed hard. “Damn, Rosy, that was some speech.”

The pounding thrust of their lust had slipped a bit, but in its place came a softer, kinder desire. She still wanted him, oh, yes, with a need that would not be denied. But there was something deeper too. Something more than lust and hunger and wanting.

There was love.

Big and rich and true.

She didn’t know if either of them was ready to say it, but she felt it to the depths of her soul. He didn’t have to say it. She knew.

Happiness erupted from her lips in a giggle.

He kissed her again, swallowing her giddy sound. She tasted her joy on his tongue.

They danced together in a ritual as old as time, moving in perfect union, their bodies pressed close, smoothly, in tandem.

A heated calm seeped through Delaney’s body as she experienced a blissful sense of homecoming. A wondrous peace unlike anything she’d ever known.

She understood the mystery of creation, recognized the cosmic connection between herself and Nick. They were one soul, one entity. His eyes latched on to hers and she could not look away. Did not want to look away.

They climaxed together like that, locked in each other’s embrace.

And in that moment, two souls became one.

Chapter 20

T
hey spent the entire weekend holed up in the room with only brief forays down to the beach. For two glorious days they made love. In the bed, on the floor, in the bathroom in front of the mirror, and even on the terrace late one night.

At times their lovemaking was sweet—a romantic seduction in the bathtub, complete with bubbles and candles and expensive champagne. At other times, it was hungry and fierce and raw—they tore at each other, animals unable to get enough. After one such session, they came up for air and Nick glanced around the room.

“We knocked two seascapes off the walls.” He grinned. “I think we broke the glass in the frames.”

“Oh, my.” She grinned back and drew the covers to her chest. “Seven years’ bad luck.”

“No, no, that’s mirrors.”

“Better check the bathroom. The way we were going at it, we could have knocked the mirror off the wall too.”

“You were amazing.” Nick was lying facedown in the pillows. He reached a hand over and trailed his fingertips over her belly. His touch raised gooseflesh on her arms. She couldn’t believe the way he made her feel. As if the very air they breathed was special.

She sat up, pushed back a strand of hair that flopped across her face. “Oh, dear.”

“What is it?”

“There’s scratches all over your back. How did they get there?”

His laugh was deep and rich. “You clawed me.”

“I did?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember feeling all shook up.”

“Yep.” He rolled over and grinned up at her. “You were wild, out of control.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I loved it.”

She leaned down and gently pressed her lips to the scratches she’d inflicted upon him in the throes of desire. She would never have thought herself capable of such passion. It renewed her excitement.

When she finished kissing the scratches she kept going, tracing her lips down the curve of his spine to the high, tight mound of his bottom. Once there, she bit down tenderly on a nice chunk of butt.

“Watch out, woman, you’re playing with fire.”

“Promises, promises,” she teased. “We’ve already made love twice today.”

“Are you questioning my stamina?”

“Stop bragging and back it up.”

Quick as a cobra, he flipped her over. She giggled as he grabbed her around the waist and tackled her to the mattress. “There’s two more seascapes on the wall. Wanna go for double or nothing?”

Looking into his eyes, a thrill so rich and true she would never be able to express it filled her up. He kissed her and they were off again. Riding the crest of their passion.

They woke again at dawn on Monday morning, locked in each other’s arms. He leaned in to kiss her.

“No, no, morning breath.” She put a hand over her mouth.

“I don’t care. I want to share everything with you, including morning breath.”

“That’s yucky.”

“That’s life, baby.”

He kissed her, then pulled back laughing. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little yucky.”

Teasing each other, they filed into the bathroom to brush their teeth. They stood side by side, naked in front of the mirror, making silly faces at each other. Delaney felt lighter, freer, than she’d ever felt in her life.

She realized with a start that she had never been naked in the bathroom with a man before she’d been with Nick. How had she managed to get to the ripe old age of twenty-five without such intimacy?

Nick wandered back into the bedroom and flicked on the television. It was the first time they’d had the TV on all weekend. He channel surfed, looking for the morning news. And stopped cold when he saw Delaney’s face flash across the screen.

Uh-oh.

He thumbed up the volume.

“Delaney Cartwright has been missing since she was kidnapped from the chapel on her wedding day,” said the News 4 anchorwoman. “Police departments all across the country have been looking for her. This morning we have stunning new revelations in the case. We go now to our correspondent, Joe Sanchez, outside the main precinct of the Houston Police Department.”

Delaney came running in from the bathroom, her toothbrush still in her mouth, wearing nothing but her underwear. Since they’d been holed up together, she’d stopped flatironing her hair and it curled around her face. Nick said it made her look like an erotic sea nymph and she liked the sound of that.

“New revelations,” she mouthed around the toothbrush. “What new revelations?”

“Kelly,” Joe Sanchez addressed the anchorwoman. “Here’s what we’ve learned. James Robert Cartwright, Senior VP of Cartwright Oil and Gas, and his wife, Honey Montgomery Cartwright, received a ransom note asking for ten million dollars or their missing daughter will be executed.”

Delaney pulled the toothbrush from her mouth and waved it at the TV. “They can’t execute me,” she shouted. “I’m not being held hostage.”

“Your parents don’t know that,” Nick said quietly and the full extent of his words hit her like a slap.

Guilt took hold of her then, sharp and raw. What a horrible daughter she was. She hadn’t thought about her parents or Evan from the moment Nick kissed her on the balcony. She imagined how frantic they must be and recalled how crushed they had been after Skylar’s death. She thought the note she’d left for Evan would ease their minds, let them know she’d gone off on her own.

The taste of shame filled her mouth. She’d wanted to punish her mother for lying, for deceiving her all these years, but this was too cruel. How thoughtless she’d been. How selfish.

Nick loosely hooked his elbow around her neck and drew her against his chest and whispered, “Don’t browbeat yourself.”

“In a stunning revelation,” the newscaster continued, “Honey Montgomery Cartwright revealed that she was being blackmailed by her biological mother and that her real name is Fayrene Doggett. Thirty-five years ago, she assumed the identity of a dead woman. For over three decades, Fayrene Doggett was posing as a Philadelphia blue blood. The scandal has rocked Houston high society, and the police have put out an APB on Paulette Doggett Wilson and her stepson Monty Wilson, who are suspected of holding Delaney Cartwright hostage. Their fingerprints were all over the ransom note.”

Delaney’s mouth dropped open and she sat down hard on the floor. “Mother went public? She admitted she’s Fayrene Doggett? She’ll be drummed out of the society that means so much to her. I can’t believe she confessed.”

“She did it for you,” Nick said.

Her mother had come clean in order to get her back. Letting go of her too-high standards, telling the truth, risking everything for Delaney. Guilt and shame mixed with sadness and concern inside her. There’d been too much pain and misunderstanding on both sides of the fence. It was time for open and honest communication between mother and daughter.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Take me home, Nick. Take me home.”

As Nick drove Delaney up to the security gate of the mansion she called home, he felt decidedly out of place.

Delaney told him the security code and as he punched it into the keypad, he wished he could disappear. The driveway was crammed with unmarked police cars. Nick recognized the Feds when he saw them, standing guard outside the house. Before he even stopped the pickup, they were running toward him, guns drawn.

He got out with his hands up, identifying himself.

The FBI yanked open his truck door and pulled Delaney out. They ushered her inside the house, while another batch of agents surrounded him. Nick stood watching Delaney go, and he’d never felt more like an outsider in his life.

“Delaney!” Honey swallowed her daughter up in the tightest embrace she’d ever given.

The last two days had been a living hell. Right in front of the FBI, she and James Robert had fought and cried and argued and slammed doors and relived the day Skylar had been killed. But he’d stayed and they’d fought it out. Then they’d talked in a way they hadn’t talked in years, if ever. Honey didn’t hold back. She told him all her secrets, her fears, her terror of losing him. Letting down the guard she’d held up so high for so long wasn’t easy.

When they could argue no more, James Robert took her in his arms, kissed her tenderly the way he’d kissed her in the early days, and told her he forgave her, but that for them to go forward, she was also going to have to forgive herself.

That was the hard part. Letting go of thirty-five years of self-recrimination and guilt. But she was trying her best.

Honey kissed her daughter’s face over and over. They were both sobbing and apologizing profusely. Delaney for running away from her wedding, Honey for keeping a lifetime’s worth of secrets and lies.