Authors: Jo Goodman
Michael hugged her sister. "I mean it," she whispered. "There
is
no one else like you. I don't want you to do anything that would place you in danger. I couldn't live with that, Rennie." She stepped back and searched her sister's face. Rennie was making a good show of being calm, but Michael knew better than anyone the strength of the anger that was being suppressed. "I'm sorry about your wedding, Rennie. Not sorry that you're not marrying Hollis, only sorry that it wasn't your decision. You believe that, don't you?"
"You know I do." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Jarret Sullivan's shadowy presence by the door. "I wish Mary Francis would threaten his kneecaps."
Michael laughed. "And what about Jay Mac?"
Rennie's emerald eyes shifted from Michael's face to where her father stood in deep conversation with Ethan and Judge Halsey. She shook her head slowly, her expression torn between admiration and anger. "I'm not one to back down from a challenge," she said. "I'll think of some way to outmaneuver him for the trick he's played me."
Michael almost felt sorry for her father. "Good for you, Rennie." She squeezed her sister's hands, offering encouragement. "But don't marry Hollis Banks to spite Papa. You'd only be spiting yourself." Slipping away before Rennie could respond, Michael joined Ethan, the judge, and her father.
After he had drawn her into the circle, Ethan's hands rested lightly at the small of Michael's back. He looked at the grandfather clock standing in one corner of the darkly paneled chambers. It was almost midnight.
Michael intercepted his glance at the clock. "Tired?" she asked, searching his face. The edge of weariness had been taken from his features the moment she agreed to marry him, but it had been impossible to talk him out of waiting. Never had so much been accomplished in so little time. While the hotel sent around bellboys with messages to all the people Michael requested, Ethan soaked in a hot tub and washed away the grit of travel. He shaved as she held up gowns for his opinion. He was partial to the green silk satin with piping along the collar and sleeves the exact shade of her eyes, but she knew she could have worn her dressing gown and he wouldn't have cared. His belongings were brought down from the fourth floor as she shamelessly pressed every employee of the hotel into her service. His clothes were cleaned and pressed and laid out when he was finished in the bathing room. By unspoken mutual agreement, they dressed on opposite sides of the bed, and only came together when he needed help with his cuffs and she with her buttons. Neither of them looked at the bed but they were never more aware of it.
Looking at Ethan now, Michael could see the faint shadow of weariness cross the planes of his face. She wondered if he counted lack of sleep in hours or days. Michael turned to her father. His eyes were warm on hers. She slipped her hand into his.
"It's meant everything to me to be here tonight," he told her.
Michael smiled, shaking her head with bemused affection. "Jay Mac, I'm not at all certain you're not responsible."
His thick brows rose slightly. "Responsible for what?"
"For orchestrating Houston and Dee's escape. It set tonight's events in motion."
Jay Mac laughed. "Daughter, you've always credited me with more influence than I have. This is none of my doing."
Michael kissed her father on the cheek. "Twenty-four years ago you chose Judge Halsey as my godfather. I think you had the entire thing planned even then." She hugged the judge, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his sharply angled jaw. "Thank you for tonight. It was good of you to do this for us."
The judge sighed and dipped his graying head in Jay Mac's direction. "As you said. The man's had it planned for years. It's hard to stand in his way."
"Don't I know it," she said. Michael fell back into Ethan's loose embrace and she looked at her father. "Rennie's going to challenge you, Papa."
John MacKenzie Worth smiled widely. "Then that's something to look forward to, isn't it?"
* * *
Ethan plucked the pins from Michael's hair. His fingers sifted through the tumble of burnished curls before she laid her head against his shoulder. The hansom cab swayed, rocking its occupants gently as it rolled down Broadway to the St. Mark Hotel.
"Jay Mac looked nearly apoplectic when Rennie caught my bouquet," Michael said sleepily. "Did you notice that?"
"I don't think it was the bouquet so much as your sister announcing she had every intention of marrying Hollis Banks come hell or high water."
"Your friend Jarret didn't blink an eye."
"He doesn't."
"He was smiling though."
"He does that. Lots of things amuse Jarret."
"Not much amuses Rennie. She's so... so
serious."
In the darkness of the closed carriage Ethan smiled, pressing a kiss against her fragrant hair. "I didn't know Judge Halsey was your godfather."
"You don't think I could have gotten just anyone to marry us tonight, do you? My father has that kind of influence, I don't."
What Ethan thought was that Jay Mac had done everything in his power to see that his daughters were cared for and well-protected. He couldn't give them influence but he provided connections. "I hope I see to our daughter half as well as Jay Mac saw to you."
"Daughter?" Michael snuggled against him. "Do you really think it will be a girl?"
"I'm counting on it."
"Have I told you I love you?"
"Not since you married me."
"I love you, Ethan."
"That's a damn good thing, Mrs. Stone."
* * *
She was shy undressing in front of him. After he unfastened the buttons at her back she started to go to the dressing room. He stopped her, slipping his fingers around her wrist. "Don't you want me to look at you?" he asked.
"I look like an apple on legs."
He bent and kissed her mouth. His lips were warm. "It's all right," he said. "I like apples."
Her eyes were uncertain.
Ethan turned her and gave her a small push toward her dressing room. "Go on. I'll warm the bed for you."
He was as good as his word. The sheets were warm when Michael slipped between them a few minutes later. "Thank you," she said, moving closer, curving her body against his. She drew his arm around her thickened waist and warmed her feet against his calves. He didn't move. "Ethan?"
Michael peered in the darkness, raising her fingers to his face and traced the line of his mouth, his cheek. His lids were closed, his lips slightly parted. His breathing was gentle and even. Her smile was tender as she leaned into him and touched his mouth with hers.
In a few minutes Michael was asleep as well.
* * *
His mouth was on her breast. His tongue flicked her nipple and it swelled. Her skin was warm and damp where he touched her, the scent of her flesh musky. The taste of her was sweet.
Ethan's fingers curled around her neck. His thumb dipped in the hollow of her throat. The hair at her nape was downy, as soft as a child's, and his touch there made her whimper at the back of her throat. His mouth moved to her collarbone and placed teasing, tormenting kisses along its length.
Michael liked coming awake to the taste of Ethan against her mouth and the feel of him under her palms. Her movement against him was sleepy and sinuous. Her nightshift had been unbuttoned to her waist. It slipped off her shoulders as Ethan's fingers trailed from her throat to her breasts. Her swollen nipples hardened more. His head moved lower and his teeth caught her flesh, worrying the buds gently.
She sipped the air as a frisson of pleasure tripped down her spine.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked.
His voice was husky and it washed over her with its heat and desire. She shuddered. "No, you didn't hurt me. I want you to touch me." Michael arched toward him, lifting her breasts. The suck of his mouth made her gasp again and this time he knew it was pleasure, not pain, that had pulled the small cry from her.
Ethan's hand caressed the swell of her abdomen. His knuckle grazed her distended navel. The baby kicked and Ethan withdrew his hand as if scalded.
Laughingly, Michael drew back his hand. "Feel? There she is again."
"She wants out."
Michael shook her head. "She's just stretching." Her own arms circled Ethan's neck and she uncurled along his length. "Like her mother."
Ethan's mouth slanted across Michael's. He drew in her lower lip, tracing it with his tongue. She opened her mouth under his, sweeping the ridge of his teeth, sharing the same breath, the same husky and urgent cry.
"I won't hurt the baby, will I?"
Reaching between their bodies, Michael's fingers curled around him and stroked the hard, hot length of him. She giggled softly. "Don't flatter yourself," she said. "The baby will be fine." For her impudence she was kissed breathless.
Ethan's hands slid along the curve of Michael's thigh to her hip. His caress was gently insistent and her legs parted beneath his touch as her mouth parted beneath his. His tongue intruded in the same moment as his fingers.
"We've already waited too long, Ethan," she whispered. "I want you inside me."
"Then take me."
She raised his fingertips to her siren's smile and kissed each in turn. She moved to straddle him. His hands fell to her heavy breasts where her nipples had darkened to dusky rose. She guided herself onto him. The tangle of curls that was her magnificent hair fell forward over her shoulders. She began to move. Shadows tinged with hues of blue unfolded across her pale skin. She moved through them like a sylph, caressing the length of him intimately with her body.
Ethan did not take his eyes from her face until the moment of his coming. His back arched, thrusting into her deeply as his eyes, the same blue-gray shade as the shadows, closed in the taut agony of pleasure.
Michael clung to him as Ethan withdrew and turned her onto her back. His mouth trailed over her flushed skin. His hand slipped between her thighs and his fingers passed in a whisper-stroke across the bud that was all sensation. She twisted in her desiring and when she said his name it was as a plea.
His practiced touch became a shower of pleasure. The heat concentrated at the very center of her burst and became a cascade of sparks skittering along the surface of her skin. Tension dissolved and her fingers unwound in his hair and in the sheet she was clutching.
He watched her, loving her abandonment, her wild pleasure. She was so beautiful to him that he couldn't imagine he had ever thought otherwise. Ethan tugged at her nightshirt, pulling it down as he tucked the sheet around Michael. Her breathing quieted and Ethan listened, stroking her hair, her face. He turned on his side and propped himself on an elbow.
"I should have never let you leave Denver," he said. "I'm going to regret it all my life."
She touched his face, brushed the square angle of his jaw with her forefinger. "There are too many things you should never have done, things that I shouldn't have done. I can't find it in my heart to regret them anymore. You're with me now. It's what I want."
"And you must have whatever you want."
Michael's expressive green eyes were solemn. "Absolutely."
He dropped a kiss on her lips. "I didn't mean to fall asleep before," he said. "It's probably not the wedding night you imagined."
"I've never imagined any wedding night. I never imagined any wedding. I thought you were lost to me, Ethan. It's incredible that I have Houston and Detra Kelly to thank for you being here."
Ethan didn't want to think about that.
"I wished I had been braver," she told him. "I wish I had asked you to marry me back in Stillwater."
Ethan smiled, intrigued by the idea. "Did you think about it?"
She nodded. "But I was afraid it was too forward a gesture—even for me." Michael turned on her side, drawing her legs up as the baby seemed to press into her back. "That's not quite true. I was afraid you'd say no."
"I don't know what I would have said, but I know I loved you then." His fingers threaded in her thick hair. Soft strands curled around his knuckles. "And now... I love you now."
An abrupt yawn changed the shape of her beautiful smile.
Ethan chuckled. "Go to sleep, Michael."
Beneath the sheet she searched for his hand, found it, and slipped her fingers between his. She closed her eyes. A moment later, so did he. They fell asleep together.
* * *
"I have an address for her," Dee said. She was careful not to jar Houston's leg as she sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled a slip of paper from her reticule and handed it to him. "It wasn't difficult to get at all. I merely told one of the secretaries I had an appointment with her at her home and I'd misplaced the address. It was as simple as that."
"The St. Mark Hotel. 305." Houston folded the slip and returned it to Dee. "She wasn't at the offices?"
"Not today." Her deep blue eyes were almost feverishly bright as she tried to relate her news calmly. "Perhaps not tomorrow either. There was quite a buzz at the
Chronicle
this morning. I couldn't help but learn what it was about. Everyone was talking."