by Kristi Gold
She nodded toward the bag. “What have you got there?”
“Dinner for two. Your father said he would not be joining us. J.D. has driven him home. I decided that Claire’s would be preferable to my attempts at preparing dinner, although I would be willing to try again if you are willing to take that chance.”
“With you cooking dinner?”
He pinned her with his gray eyes. “That, and other things.”
“What other things?”
He sighed. “I would like to start over, Jamie. Prove to you that I am not the ogre you claim I am. Since you left me, I cannot eat or sleep. I cannot concentrate on my work. I can only think of what we have shared, how you felt in my arms. I miss your laughter. I miss the way your eyes light up when I touch you. I even miss your singing. So if you will grant me another opportunity to—”
Jamie grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, silencing him with a kiss. The bag dropped to the floor. She didn’t care about food at the moment. She didn’t care about the fact she was dog-tired. She didn’t care about anything but Ben, the way he was kissing her back with such power that she thought her legs might not hold her any longer.
He hadn’t said he loved her, but he was coming mighty close. And tonight, no matter what, she wanted to be with him, make love with him, even if it was only one more time.
As if he’d read her mind, he hooked his arms underneath her knees and lifted her up, much as he’d done that first night they’d made love.
Again she was swept away, not only by his powerful arms, but also by her feelings for him. Her love for him.
Once in the bedroom, Ben slid Jamie down the length of him and murmured, “I did not expect this reaction from you. I believe that you have missed me, too.”
“Okay, I admit it. I have missed you.” She couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs. “But I didn’t expect this reaction from me either. I say let’s just go with the flow.”
He rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue. “You will receive no argument from me, but I have been traveling all day. I am in need of a shower.”
Jamie smiled up at him. “Me too.”
“Then perhaps that is where we should begin.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Jamie slipped off her blouse and shimmied out of her slacks. Ben tossed his robes aside, raked the kaffiyeh from his head, then tore at the white shirt he wore underneath his robes, sending buttons pinging around the room like pea-sized gravel. After he snaked out of his slacks, they stood before each other totally naked.
The raw hunger Jamie saw in Ben’s eyes made her shiver, made her want him right then, but she let him lead her into the small bathroom. He turned on the shower before bringing her against him for a long lingering kiss. A kiss full of promise and passion like none she had ever known before him.
Breaking the kiss, he took her hand and together they stepped beneath the lukewarm spray. They stood for another long moment and took in the sight of each other until Jamie began shampooing his thick dark hair, and he returned the favor. Covered in slippery suds, they laughed, they kissed, engaging in water play—a pleasant prelude to what would come next.
Jamie reached behind her for the shower gel, placed a few drops in her palm, then began to lather Ben’s chest through the swirl of dark hair.
His sexy smile drove her to near insanity. “You would have me smelling like Alima’s fresh-cut flowers?”
She returned his smile, sending her hands down his belly and farther still. He was completely aroused, and she was completely in awe.
“Are you complaining?” she asked, tracing a fingertip down the solid length of him.
He sucked in a deep breath. “No. You will hear no complaint from me if you continue this.”
She watched his features grow taut as she continued to caress him, memorize every inch of him. His eyes drifted shut and she knew he was close to coming unwound. Very close. And she felt such power.
Suddenly his eyes snapped opened and he circled her wrist in a steel grip. “Enough. You are driving me insane.”
“That’s the idea, Ben,” she said, sounding incredibly coy.
“Not yet. As I said, this is only the beginning.”
With that, he picked up the gel and spread some in his palms, then knelt down and washed her feet, one at a time. Jamie stared down on his dark head bent in concentration and realized that he was playing the role of slave. She had never expected that he would do something so subservient as bathing her feet. But then she had never expected to meet anyone like him.
He raised his gray eyes to her as he slid his large palms up her calves to the inside of her thighs, pausing just before he arrived at the point of her greatest need.
Standing once again, he took hold of her shoulders and backed her up against the cold tiles. He lowered his mouth to her breast and suckled one, then the other. Jamie moaned her pleasure, knowing it was only the beginning of his special brand of sensual torment. And she loved it.
He ran his hands down the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, and cupped her intimately. “I belong here, Jamie,” he whispered. “Inside you. One with you.”
His masterful fingers delved into her needy flesh, making her quiver, making her beg. “Ben, please—”
“Shhh, Jamie. You need not speak. I know what you need. I can feel it.”
Oh, boy, she could feel it, too. The steady building of pressure, of heat, when he found her center and settled there. He continued to stroke her straight into oblivion. She cried out when he brought her to a climax so great she thought she might never recover. But she did, enough to scold him. “No fair. Now I’m ahead of you.”
“Not for long, my Jamie.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek. “Not for long.”
Without bothering to dry off or turn down the lights, they made their way to the bed and sank onto the patchwork quilt, tangled together like clinging vines. They faced each other and continued to touch and explore, fondle and caress, until Ben said, “I can wait no longer.”
Neither could Jamie. She craved the feel of his body inside hers. But when she tried to guide him to her, he moved away and left the bed.
Confused, Jamie sat up and found him rummaging through his pants pocket. “Ben, what are you doing?”
“I have brought the condoms.” He slipped onto the edge of the bed and held up the plastic packets, at least five, for her inspection.
She couldn’t repress a smile. “It doesn’t matter.”
He frowned. “I believe it does. At least to you. I want you to know that I will do whatever you wish of me.”
She snatched the packets from him and tossed them aside. “I wish for you to make love to me. Now.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
Without words, he moved over her and sank into her waiting body, joining them on a level that went far beyond the physical. He moved slowly, with care, setting a perfect rhythm. Setting Jamie on fire with his increasing thrusts, his fine caress above the place where they were joined.
Suddenly he stilled and bracketed her face in his palms. “You are everything to me,” he whispered. “You invade my waking hours. You have captured my heart.” He kissed her softly. “And I love you with all that I have to give, my Jamie.”
Had she heard him right? She couldn’t find the heart to ask, afraid she had dreamed it.
“I have never known such feelings before,” he continued, “And I can no longer deny them.”
Tears of joys spilled from the corners of her eyes. “You have no idea how much this means to me. For the longest time, I believed I was nothing more to you than a possession.”
His smile was so beautiful, so sincere, it brought fresh tears to her eyes. “How could you be my possession when it is you who owns me?”
He kissed her deeply then. A kiss that held a promise for the future. Jamie knew right then that she belonged with him. They belonged to each other.
A
gain he moved inside her, touching her in places begging for his attention. Touching her heart and her soul. And when she could no longer hold back the tide of pleasure, she gave in to the release with abandon as Ben shuddered and called out her name.
In the aftermath, Ben turned to one side, taking Jamie with him. She brushed a wayward lock of damp hair from his forehead. “My answer is yes.”
His smile was teasing and a little bit wicked. “What would the question be?”
Obviously he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She couldn’t blame him, considering how many times he had asked, and how many times she had refused. “You know. The one you’ve been asking for a few weeks.”
“The one involving marriage?”
“Yes, that’s the one. And if the offer still stands, then yes, I will marry you and drive you crazy and have your babies.”
He cupped her face in his large hands. “More than all the gold in the world, I want you to be my wife. I will put no one before you. All I need is the promise of your love.”
She held him tightly. “Ben, I do love you. I think I loved you the moment you woke up in my bed that first morning.”
He kissed her gently. “Then you will promise to wake with me every morning, and come to my bed every night? That you will be with me always?”
Never had Jamie felt such freedom. Such honest love. “Yes. Always.”
He rolled her beneath him once again. “Good. That is all I will ever need.”
Her tummy rumbled. “How about food?”
He laughed then, a deep rich sound that made Jamie want to laugh, too, from the pure joy of it. “Are you saying you are hungry?”
“Starving.”
His eyes darkened with intense desire. “So am I, and after I am done with you, we can have dinner and plan our wedding.”
She was late, but not for the wedding.
Jamie still had forty-five minutes to get ready for the ceremony and about one minute before she would know if she was, in fact, carrying Ben’s child.
Perched on the edge of the vanity stool dressed in her old terry robe, she stared at the white plastic stick resting near the sink and waited for the sign that would tell her yes or no.
A watched pot never boils.
Jamie released a nervous laugh when she recalled her mother’s words. She’d have to remember to teach Alima this particular American saying.
The remaining seconds ticked off while Jamie impatiently tapped her foot. Then suddenly, a plus sign appeared, leaving no doubt in her mind she was pregnant.
Pregnant.
She’d somehow known for a while that she was carrying Ben’s baby. A baby created by two people who had found each other against all odds. Created by two people in love. Jamie felt truly blessed.
But when should she tell Ben?
She consulted her watch. Time was wasting. She still had to dress. Her father would be at the apartment any moment now to escort her to Royal’s city park, the place they’d chosen for the ceremony.
After the wedding, she would tell Ben. This news could wait for now, until the right time. Until tonight, when they were alone. She didn’t want anything to detract from this glorious day when she would marry the man she loved more than life. Just as her parents had loved each other.
Quickly she applied her makeup and curled her hair. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she retrieved her mother’s dress and slipped it on. A perfect fit.
Lovingly she caressed the white lace overlay. Funny, she’d told Helena last month she had no intention of wearing it anytime soon. Now she was wearing it and she was going to have a baby. Ben’s baby. Things had certainly changed in her life in record time. And she couldn’t be happier.
The doorbell sounded and she answered the summons, finding her father waiting for her. He looked so very handsome in his Sunday suit, his bright smile flashing against his tanned rugged face.
He held out his hands for her to take and smiled a proudpapa smile. “You look as pretty as your mama did when she wore that dress all those years ago. She would be so proud of you.” A single tear drifted down his cheek.
Jamie tried to thwart her own tears with a smile. “Stop that right now. If I cry, I’ll ruin my makeup, then we’ll never make it on time.”
He hooked his arm and she slipped her own arm through it. “Then let’s not keep your Ben waiting,” he said.
“No, let’s not.” She had kept him waiting long enough.
Ben stood beneath the gazebo waiting for his bride. The April day was unseasonably warm, and the tuxedo he wore decidedly uncomfortable. He supposed his discomfort had as much to do with nervousness as the weather. He would not be at ease until he had Jamie by his side. Not that he thought she would not show for the wedding. He was simply ready to begin their life together.
Matt stood nearby, speaking with fellow Cattleman’s Club members Justin Webb, Aaron Black, Greg Hunt and Hank Langley. Moments before, Forrest Cunningham had walked away from Dakota Lewis who now remained back from the others, looking disinterested and perhaps a bit sad. Ben assumed he was contemplating the mission he would soon undertake in Asterland with his estranged wife. If luck prevailed, it would serve to bring the couple back together once again—as was meant to be, according to Aaron who had known them quite some time. Although the man denied any feelings for his wife, Ben and all the other members knew better. And Ben could certainly relate to Dakota’s pain over not having his love with him. The short time he had spent without Jamie had seemed like centuries.
The statue of Tex Langley, the Texas Cattleman’s Club’s founding father, stood off in the distance. A crowd of onlookers had gathered around the ropes that segregated several rows of white chairs lined up on the lawn for the invited guests. Ben assumed that a wedding between an Arabian sheikh and a local woman would garner much interest in the small town. At the moment, he wasn’t concerned over the masses. At the moment, he wanted to see Jamie.
The sound of a woman crying drew his attention. Alima sat on the front row dabbing at her face, sobbing now and again, much louder than most would deem appropriate. She had told him that morning how honored she was to stand in for his mother who was tending her latest grandson, the sixth born to his brother. Alima’s sobs grew louder when the string quartet he had hired began to play. He believed her tears were those of joy. Or perhaps the classical music was not to her liking. At least she had come without the blessed headphones.
Several guests turned to the direction of the street. A spattering of excited voices acknowledged the arrival of the white limousine pulling up to the curb.
Ben’s heart vaulted in his chest and pounded in anticipation when he saw Jamie’s father exit the car. And then his bride slipped out in a flowing white dress. His Jamie. His love. Soon to be his wife.
The guests who had been mingling began to make their way to their seats, many noted citizens of Royal, including several members—old and new—of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
The Justice of the Peace moved to the gazebo next to Ben, along with Matt Walker who would serve as the best man. Matt’s fiancée, Lady Helena, who would also bear witness to their union, took her place on the opposite side. The couple exchanged a look, one of love beyond all limits. A few weeks ago, Ben might have scoffed at such a thing, but now he truly knew the power of love. A love he had never thought possible.
Ben turned toward the crowd and watched with pride as Jamie made her way toward the gazebo. She walked with grace and shone in the mid-morning sun like the fine jewel that had brought them together. The mild breeze, smelling of freshly mowed grass, ruffled her golden hair, ringed on top by a circle of white flowers. The locks curled over her breasts and glistened in the sunshine, bringing to mind that day when Ben had first viewed her leaving the cleaners with the dress she now wore, singing at the top of her voice. That day that had nearly ended in disaster but instead had brought them to this treasured point in time.
The dress flowed to the ground and fit her curves to pe
rfection. Ben mentally scolded himself when the image of removing it slowly from her body filtered into his brain.
The quartet began to play the traditional “Wedding March” as Jamie started up the aisle. Her smile was luminous, giving Ben such a resounding joy. He had finally made her happy, and it had taken not objects nor gifts, but only a few simple words.
Once Jamie and her father had scaled the first of the two steps, Caleb Morris turned and kissed Jamie on the cheek, then offered her hand to Ben. “She’s all yours,” he said. “Treat her like the gift she is, cause if you don’t, I’ve got a loaded .22 and a case full of shells.” A grin melted his serious expression.
A spattering of laughter came from the audience, and Ben smiled in kind. Jamie looked mortified.
Ben bowed slightly. “You have my word, Mr. Morris.”
Taking Jamie’s fragile hand into his, Ben helped her up the remaining step. When she met his gaze, he noticed a fine sheen of tears in her eyes.
“Are you ready for this, Prince Ben?” she asked.
“I have been ready for weeks.”
Jamie turned and handed her bouquet to Helena who smiled and said, “Amazing what love can do, isn’t it?”
“Truly amazing.” Jamie turned back to her soon-to-be husband and drew in a deep cleansing breath.
Debonair was the first word that had come to mind when she’d seen Ben waiting for her at the end of the aisle, dressed in a tailored tux, wearing his traditional kaffiyeh, looking strong and commanding. Beautiful was the second, and it much more aptly described him at the moment as she glimpsed the adoration in his gray eyes.
He brought her hand to his lips. “You are more exquisite than I could ever imagine.”
“And you look much too good to be true.”
The Justice of the Peace cleared his throat, signaling he was ready to begin the ceremony that would unite them forever. Not once did Ben look away, his voice clear and composed as he repeated the vows. Jamie wished she could say the same for herself. Her voice trembled, shaky with stubborn tears of joy that wouldn’t go away. But she managed to get through it all the same.
