The Bride Wore Starlight

by Lizbeth Selvig

  “You don’t have to leave it on.” She whispered the words almost fearfully against his mouth. “I want to know all of you. I want you to . . . trust me.”

  “I haven’t wanted to weird you out.”

  The words were light, slightly jokey, and still she clearly heard the underlying tension. With a start she recognized her own fears in the sound, and deep inside a little of the anxiety she’d battled so long started to disintegrate.

  “That’s just dumb, Alec. Weird? It’s not weird. It’s you.”

  Did she mean it? Of course she did. Then how could she do anything but open herself up in return? She couldn’t have his body without sharing hers no matter how much it scared her.

  “You’ve never made love to a one-legged guy.”

  The fear flared hot just before her grin broke loose. “Am I about to?”

  He pulled her back down against him and ran his hands over her seat, pulling her tight to groin and rolling his hips. “I think it might be too soon.”

  She pushed up and away again, resting one elbow beside his ear and brushing his hair back with the other hand, drinking in the texture with her fingertips. “I’m afraid to let you see, too.”

  “See what?” A light, perhaps one of hopefulness, brightened his eyes.

  “I have more scars than the one you’ve seen on my face. My own arsenal to use in weirding you out.” She stopped combing through his hair. The breath she took this time was shakier than any so far. “I’d show you mine if you show me yours. Let’s be weirded out together.” The words were silly, and her heart skittered around her ribcage—a scared bird that had trapped itself.

  He didn’t speak. Carefully, he rolled her off of him and placed one hand on her stomach. With gentle fingers he unsnapped her jeans and slowly rasped down the zipper. Then he sat up, and reached for her boots. One at a time he tugged them off.

  Next came his. It took him a minute to work the left one off and expose the shapeless foot with its intricate mechanical joint. She sat up, nervousness evaporating steadily.

  “Show me how it moves.”

  He did.

  “Amazing,” she said.

  Making him lean back on his elbows, she undid his snap and opened his zipper. He closed his eyes, and a long, hard “ahhhh,” escaped when she brushed the bulge of his erection.

  “Naughty man,” she whispered. “All I cared about was seeing the leg. Take your jeans off and behave yourself.”

  He laughed softly with a hint of disbelief in its tenor. “I can control the leg. I can’t control other things as well. Besides, it’s your fault.”

  He got to his feet and pulled down his jeans. The socket that cradled Alec’s real leg was colorful, and it delighted her in a fascinated kind of way. The swirling rainbow decorated the top of the prosthetic and the covering that tapered along its carbon fiber shaft. He stood before her in his boxers, his right leg as beautiful and muscled as an athlete’s, his left thigh muscled and strong, the knee half covered with a silicone sleeve that flexed when he moved. The limb itself was anticlimactic—dark and powerful-looking, but attached so securely that it was just him. The bionic man. And at the moment he was hers.

  And he had body parts that were much more interesting than the artificial leg.

  “You’re pretty gorgeous,” she said. He caught her staring at the tented boxers, and he burst out laughing until it rolled over them both.

  He sat on the sleeping bag and silently, deftly, removed the artificial limb. “You’re amazing,” he said when he’d set it aside.

  His stump did divert her attention from the part of him she really wanted to explore. The first thing she noticed was the smoothness of the skin and then the redness along the front and sides.

  “Oh, Alec, it looks rubbed. I’m sorry you couldn’t take it off before.”

  “It gets sore, but not painful. And having it off now makes everything fine.”

  “Honest?”

  “Honest. Now lie back and let me take care of you for a minute.”

  She closed her eyes and, suddenly, her bravery threatened to flee again as he shimmied off her jeans. Inch by inch he got closer to revealing her twisted leg, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out to stop him. And then the denim was gone, the jeans tossed aside.

  “Look at you.” The prayer-like whisper brought tears to her eyes.

  “I’d like it better if you didn’t.” All she wanted was to pull him down, roll over and mesh with him, make herself invisible and stop the shivers coursing through her body.

  “No, don’t say that. You had a terrible accident. Now that you’re part of me, of my life, I hate that it left you feeling ugly. But you aren’t. The scars aren’t. They’re here because you are, and thank God.”

  Tears spilled down her temples, hot and healing. He’d never seen her scarless, and he didn’t care. He didn’t compare her to anything, least of all who she’d been before. She had a clean slate with him. The knowledge slammed through her.

  “Don’t cry,” he said. “Don’t. It’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay.”

  “I want you, Joely. I thought it was because you’re beautiful, and I’m just a guy with a typical one-track brain, but that’s not it. I want you because you’re you, and you make me feel like the only man on Earth who matters. Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  In love?

  “I thought you weren’t in this for serious.” She held his cheeks between her hands, searching for the truth in his words.

  “Helluva thing. I’m still trying to reconcile it.”

  Joely sat up and scrambled, with only a little awkwardness, into his lap. Heat against heat, she pressed to his hard length until they both groaned in desire. Without taking time for finesse, he pushed her torso away so he could yank her T-shirt over her head with eager hands. A fluid movement of his fingers at her back flicked apart her bra, and she fell forward to kiss him, tunneling beneath his shirt and hitching it up between them.

  For the shortest moment she could manage, she broke their kiss so she could shuck his shirt off, then she spread her hands across his pecs in exploration. His bare chest, with its perfect dusting of sexy hair, thrilled her.

  They lay back, he beneath her first and then vice versa. Multiple times they changed their positions to explore each other, and when every item of clothing had been shed and their bodies touched skin to skin for the first time, Joely felt like she’d climbed Wolf Paw Peak to reach the beautiful top. What she’d thought was going to be a painful journey had been spiritual.

  They rolled to their sides and Alec ducked his head to catch first one breast and then the other in a delicious kiss. His strong hand pressed sensually against her lower belly and sought the spot between her thighs that controlled every sensation in her body.

  “How’s that?” He circled his finger gently, and his words went straight into her core.

  Within seconds she couldn’t stop the swift pressure within every muscle and nerve fiber. Higher and higher he pushed her until she looked right over the top of the mountain and prepared to explode over the edge.

  And he stopped.

  She cried out. “You can’t!”

  “Ssh. Trust me.”

  She opened her eyes. The tension in his face surprised her. Pleased her. He pulled away and grabbed a foil packet from above their heads. “Where did you get . . . ?” she asked, breathless, craving his touch back.

  “A magician never reveals his tricks.”

  “Let me put it on.”

  “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.” He laughed, but it was choppy and harsh with desire.

  She let him do it just so she could get him back into her arms sooner. When his fingers picked up where they’d left off, he brought her straight back to that brink of explosion. One last time he left her teetering, just long enough to shift and glide into her with a long, hot, silken stroke. Her explosion detonated, and she kept only enough wits about her to grab hold of him and mak
e sure he was caught in the blast with her. Time—how long the fireworks lasted or how long she hovered with Alec in pure ecstasy—ceased to matter. When they finally floated back to reality, a fresh well of tears overflowed. This time, however, she laughed through them and wrapped her arms and legs, which now felt more whole and healthy than at any time in her life, as thoroughly as she could around his spent body. She wanted him this close forever—as if they’d truly shared the same body, flesh, and soul for those moments, and she’d lose him if she let go.

  “You okay?” His question rolled into a deep, chuckle.

  “More than.” Her heart swelled with joy. With freedom. “Thank you.”

  “Aw, Joely, don’t thank me. That was us. Together.”

  “Then thank you for allowing me to say I’m falling in love with you, too. I haven’t wanted to scare you off.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. It scares me plenty.”

  “Try not to let it.”

  “Okay. If trying this again in a few minutes is part of the fear management therapy.” He nuzzled the hollow between her neck and shoulder.

  “It would be my first choice of treatment.”

  “I feel better already.” He gnawed the tender skin below her ear, tickling it and eliciting a happy shriek. “But at the moment, you’re cold. I can feel it. Let’s clean up and get in where it’s warm.”

  “If you’re talking about the goose bumps, they are not from the cold.”

  “I see. Well, nevertheless, let’s try making more of them under the covers.”

  The “covers” were their two sleeping bags, zipped together to make one down-filled cocoon. They tucked themselves in, and Alec enveloped her, making her safe, turning her goose bumps into warm contentment.

  “Wake me when you’re ready.” She grinned dopily and drifted into sweet oblivion with her head pillowed on his arm and his kiss pressed to the top of her head.

  THE WORLD EXPLODED for real, tearing into the middle of Alec’s very hot dream that had, exquisitely and erotically, nothing to do with Humvees or Iraq. A screech and the convulsive jolt of Joely’s warm, naked body in his arms punctuated the enormous crash of thunder that had scared them both awake. She buried her head in his arms.

  “Jeez,” she said. “That was close.”

  “It was.” He kissed her, his mind racing between detailed images from the interrupted dream he now desperately wanted to turn into reality, and the actual reality of what encroaching thunder meant. “Come on. I know what I promised, but I think finding shelter before the rain hits has to come first.”

  They scrambled reluctantly into clothes. He put his leg back on, safely holding close the memory of his unbelievable Joely and the way she’d turned his moment of greatest concern into a moment that connected her to him forever. The wind picked up swiftly, and Alec threw dirt on their mostly dead fire until the embers were suffocated. Rain would extinguish it, but he didn’t want to take any chances with coals in the wind.

  Joely rolled everything quickly into their saddle packs and cleared their campsite. “Of course it has to do this the only night we’re not going to be in a cabin.”

  “I think we made the thunder gods jealous with our own storm.” He took a moment to capture her and brand another kiss across her lips. She melted against him.

  “That was unbelievably corny,” she said. “But I say, let them try and best us.”

  He wanted to keep going. His undisciplined body was only reacting harder, literally, to her touch, her scent, her lips, but they needed the leeward hillside and the rock overhang they’d scouted before making camp under the trees. Trees were a godsend in normal weather. They could be lethal in a thunderstorm.

  More thunder roared and rolled toward them. It was pitch dark except for the constant show from lightning. He pulled their flashlights from his saddlebags and handed one to her.

  “Put the saddles deep under the pine trees and put the saddle blankets over them. They’ll be okay. Let’s grab the horses first . . . ” And that’s when he realized what was wrong. “Shit. Where’s Rowan?”

  “She was tied up under the tree.”

  “But she’s not there. She must have gotten scared and snapped that little leash. It’s what it’s meant to do if she got tangled or in trouble, but she should have come to us.”

  That started frantic calling, desperate listening, and a panic he couldn’t control roiling in Alec’s gut. He didn’t realize how frenzied he’d grown until Joely stopped him and pressed to him in a tight hug. She breathed deeply for him. Calmed him with a steady, certain voice.

  “It’s okay, Alec. We’ll find her. I promise.”

  It took five long, precious minutes before they heard the high-pitched whine.

  “Rowan! Here girl, come on, don’t be afraid,” he called to his dog.

  The whining came again along with a thunder crack and a gust of straight-line wind that nearly toppled them both.

  “Crap and a half,” Joely said. “This is not funny.”

  Finally Rowan let out her low, unmistakable woof. They found her beneath a cottonwood tree pinned by a five-inch-thick branch taken down by the storm. Joely let out a cry. Alec knelt, his panic surging again. The big dog raised her head and licked his hand.

  “The branch is caught and looks like it smashed into her knee,” Joely said, holding the flashlight steady on Rowan’s leg. We can get it off her, but I think she might be in tough shape. I can’t tell if it crushed her sides, too.”

  “Oh, God.” He moaned. “Rowan, I’m so sorry. We’ll get you out.”

  It took only seconds to move the long, heavy limb. Alec prayed for his dog to jump up, happy to have her prison opened. But she didn’t move. She thumped her tail and lifted her head to look at him with confused eyes, then lay back down.

  “Oh, God,” he said again.

  “Let me look.” Joely knelt behind the dog’s back. “Dogs get hurt all the time on a ranch. Hold my flashlight.”

  She ran her hands slowly over Rowan’s belly, ribs, and back. The dog didn’t make a peep.

  “I don’t think anything’s out of place here,” she said. “It’s all her leg. But I can feel a bone out of place. And there’s a gash right above the joint. I don’t think she lost a lot of blood, but it’s hard to tell.”

  She stood and left him so she could hop and shuffle to the saddle rolls. Quickly she extracted a white tank top from her pack. She returned and in moments had ripped a makeshift bandage out of the shirt. Carefully she wrapped it tightly enough around Rowan’s leg to stop the bleeding.

  “We have to figure out a way to get her home,” she said.

  “I’ll ride out.”

  “No.”

  The forcefulness behind her single word made him stare, too numb with worry to start an argument. “No?”

  “We have to wait until the rain passes, and then I’m the one who should go. It won’t be light for hours yet, but I know this area like I know my name. I can get close enough to the highway to maybe get a cell phone signal. If not that, I’ll get home faster, and Cole can get the truck and trailer close.”

  “We’ll discuss it after the storm.”

  The rain started five minutes later. Between the two of them they hefted Rowan to the shelter spot and led the horses out of the worst of the wind. Joely’s bravery in forcing use of her injured leg humbled and astounded Alec. By the time they sat mostly out of the rain all five of them were soaked. Rowan slept, and Alec held her big head in his lap, stroking and talking. Joely held him, rubbing shoulders and convincing him everything would be fine.

  The student who had been learning how to find her strength had definitely become the master.

  She left the instant the rain slowed and the thunder faded into the east. It ate at him like acid that she was headed out by herself, but she never wavered. Rowan would be more relaxed with him, she said. She would have someone back before suppertime. If she rode quickly it would only be a few hours.

  As she headed off, all Alec co
uld think was how little fast riding she’d done and how her legs had to be like rubber. He convinced himself she was undertaking an inevitable suicide mission and created a long list of possible disastrous outcomes. When he went to work on a list of successful ones, the only item was “miracle.” Rowan whimpered in her sleep, distracting him, and he tried to wake her. She opened one eye and thumped her tail, but then slept again almost before the thump ended.

  Finally exhaustion hit him, and his eyes closed, too. He fought to stay awake, to keep prayers heading heavenward for his dog, and for his girl. It had only been a few hours since her lovemaking had made him feel like king of the world.

  What was it Sadie had said? Every form of lovemaking involved trust? He brought back the memory of how hard it had been to drop his jeans. He’d bared every ounce of vulnerability he still kept hidden, but her reaction had defined the word trust.

  She had defined the word love. He’d said he loved her, and now as he had no choice but to wait in half panic, he knew he’d meant the word in every way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE WILDEST PART of the storm might have passed, but rain still drove like fine needles into Joely’s skin. The gamble she took by leaving before it cleared was that she’d had to guess this was the end of the system and the rain would end soon. Fifteen minutes into her trip, Joely wondered what had possessed her to be so bold.

  She’d never been afraid of the dark, so the night didn’t bother her. She’d always known that nocturnal animals prowled the darkness—cougars and coyotes among the most dangerous—but she and her sisters had learned as children how to beware of and avoid the creatures who were the true residents of this land. She wasn’t even afraid of storms, although she knew the idiocy of getting caught without shelter in a Wyoming plains tempest.

  What she feared was falling off the horse. If she did she wouldn’t be able to get back on without Alec’s help. If she’d had Penny, she’d have believed she could ford head high rivers and never fall. But Muddy was an unknown. An interloper. A horse she’d had no part in choosing and, therefore, a horse she hadn’t wanted. Unfortunately, their lives now more or less depended on each other.