*
The midnight to morning hours on the concierge desk at the Excelsior Hotel were typically slow, and during weekdays handled by the nightshift bell captain. His experience with wedding arrangements was slight, but he managed pretty well. Even for a hurry-up, middle of the night occasion, he was able to provide a beautiful bouquet, a sober minister and a cluster of cupcakes with a bride and groom figurine on top. The jeweler at Caesars Palace had sent over a ring by taxi. And a 24-hour rental shop had managed a lovely white gown and veil, as well as the tux. Esperanza from the housekeeping staff was drafted into sitting with two sleeping children while the best man and matron of honor attended the ceremony.
The Excelsior, being a busy, much beloved and historical hotel, held claim to many innumerable “firsts” in its past. But to everyone’s recollection, and some searching of the special occasion logs, this was the only wedding ever to take place in their elevator.
2
The Promise
Linda J. Parisi
Excelsior Hotel, Las Vegas, 1962
Love. Funny how such a small word could mean so many different things.
Mac’s hand gripped hers, making Sarah intensely aware of the ring he’d just slipped on her finger. “Oh, Mac,” she whispered, squeezing back.
Take for instance, the difference between a man and a woman, she thought. For a man, love was the golden crown that made a man a king, the crown he wore with pride for all the world to see. For a woman love was deeper, like the layers of a peacock, splendid in full bloom, shimmering even when hidden.
“Well, Mrs. McDonald?”
All around them the lobby of the Excelsior bustled. Bellboys in bright red uniforms trimmed in gold carried in luggage followed by men in suits and women in mink. But Sarah only saw her husband, so handsome in his gray-blue dress uniform. “I can’t believe this is finally happening. Married. Finally.”
Sarah gazed up at Mac, hiding none of her feelings for him. His half-quirk, mostly devil-may-care grin made her fall in love with him all over again. For a brief second, she floated back to that moment when they first met. An interesting word, met. Better to say, when she barreled into his rock-hard body ending up in a heap at his feet. As he helped her up, his grin melted her for the first time. She forgot about her chemistry exam. He forgot about the blind date with her sorority sister. They spent the rest of the evening just talking…
His warm kiss on their clasped hands brought her back to the present. Sarah grinned back, shivering as she alternated hot and cold. When she returned the kiss on the back of his hand, heat flared in his gaze, leaving only the remaining embers.
“My very own blond bombshell,” he teased.
“I’m not exactly Marilyn Monroe,” she was quick to counter.
“No, my beautiful wife. You’re my Marilyn Monroe.”
Mac picked up her suitcase, hoisted his duffle, and they walked from the entrance of the lobby to the front desk. Bubbling inside with happiness, Sarah wanted to dance and twirl across the floor as if she were a princess at a ball. She fell in love with the hotel immediately. In a town growing with slanted roofs and modern architecture, Sarah slipped into the rich wood and soft tones of the Excelsior with the ease of a glass slipper.
“Lieutenant Michael McDonald. I reserved the honeymoon suite.”
The flutter of Sarah’s heart battered against the confines of her rib cage.
“Of course, sir. If you’ll sign here please?” The desk clerk handed him a key. “The elevator is at the end of the lobby. Top floor.”
Sarah caught sight of the patch on his arm. “That Others May Live.” The motto thrilled her. But half a world away and to Vietnam, such a dangerous place? She’d read the newspapers. The United States was sending even more “advisors” and becoming even more embroiled in war that wasn’t theirs.
With a deep breath, Sarah banished those thoughts immediately. There was only this place. There was only the present.
“Compliments of the house.” The clerk slid a couple of chips across the countertop and signaled a bellboy to handle the luggage. “Congratulations on your marriage.”
Mac looped his arm in hers and they followed. But as they reached the casino, he slowed. “Here,” he told the bellboy as he pulled out a couple of bills from his pocket. “Take our luggage up to the room.” Sara watched wondering what he was doing.
“Yes, sir.”
Mac shrugged. “They did give us some chips.”
“Boys will be boys?” she teased.
He shook his head and patted her hand. He was giving her time to get used to her new status. Nervous, a little scared, Sarah didn’t want to disappoint him. She caught the heat in his gaze and knew exactly why she loved him so much. “Thank you.”
Fingers entwined, Mac led her into the casino. Sarah wrinkled her nose at the cigarette smoke as they walked in. Mac brought her to a craps table and a waitress came over to ask if they wanted a drink.
“What do you want, kitten?” he asked, his mouth next to her ear so she could hear. Despite it being the middle of the day, the casino was crowded, almost too crowded for her taste.
“A Manhattan,” Sarah replied, trying her best to sound sophisticated, realizing that going to college for three years hadn’t quite taken the small town out of the give… yet.
Mac took the opportunity to nip at her earlobe before he placed their order and turned his attention to the craps table. Sarah lost interest quickly and people-watched instead. It was eighty degrees outside yet several women were walking around in mink stoles and hats. Others wore collared no-sleeve shirts and skirts. Her simple, short-sleeved, white A-line dress blended right in, making her not so self-conscious.
Not much of a wedding dress, but then Sarah hadn’t known he was going to ship out immediately after graduating flight school. When Mac found out, he proposed, and in less than twenty-four hours, planned a wedding and a honeymoon.
Mac placed a chip on the table. Their drinks came and she sipped, the liquor going straight to her head. Just like Mac.
She watched him play, serious and intense, but that hint of boyishness tugged at her heart. All of a sudden, she noticed people gravitating to the table. Soon they were surrounded. Mac’s tie was open, his cap in her hands. He pushed his cupped hands in front of her face and said, “Blow.” She did. Hard. Then he called, “C’mon. Seven.”
He made her do it again and then next thing she knew, he was lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. The man with the stick slid a whole pile of chips toward them. “We won!” he cried. “We won!”
As Mac let go, her body slid down his, sparking her desire. He kissed her for all the world to see. His tongue drifted over hers, velvet on velvet. Breathless, Sarah tore her mouth away and downed the rest of her drink to quench the fire. A single brow lifted as Mac confirmed that would be impossible. He gathered the chips, took her hand, and led her to a cashier’s window. A thousand dollars!
Grinning from ear to ear he asked, “Well, Mrs. McDonald? What shall we do with it?”
Sarah shook her head, a bit stunned. “I don’t know.”
They returned to the lobby and Mac stopped dead. Then he said, “C’mon.”
He led her back to the front desk. “Do you still have any tickets left for the show tonight, Flower Drum Song?”
The clerk smiled. “As a matter of fact I do. Two. Third row center.”
“We’ll take them.” Mac handed the clerk one of the crisp new hundred dollar bills from the casino. “Keep the change.”
Once they were out of earshot she murmured, “Extravagant.”
“We can afford it.” He tilted his head. There went that grin again. “It’s our honeymoon.”
Sarah relented and found herself caged between his arms in the elevator. She gazed up at him, her love for him welling in her eyes.
He melted. “Don’t cry, kitten. We have the whole weekend ahead of us.”
“I’m not sad,” she countered. “I’m happy.”
His finger trailed down her cheek. She kissed the tip. “Look, I know you’re disappointed, that you wanted a big wedding. And we can have one when I come back.”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t care about that now. All I care about is you. I love you Mac.”
“I love you too, kitten.”
As his mouth engulfed hers, Sarah forgot about everything else except this tiny ball of need that raged downhill inside her body growing bigger and bigger as they kissed. Not that they’d been saints, or that they hadn’t made out, and then some, but Mac had this definitive idea of right and wrong. He wanted her to be a virgin on their wedding night.
Only it was daytime and the elevator doors were opening.
He grabbed her hand and they practically flew down the hallway. Always the gentleman, he opened the door and then lifted her in his arms to carry her over the threshold. Sarah gasped as he let her feet touch the floor. Six of her bedrooms would fit inside one of these. And the bed? Oh, my!
Sarah couldn’t drag her gaze from the cavernous bed. “You won’t lose me in there, will you?” she asked with a shaky laugh.
“Never,” he replied, his tone beyond serious. He pulled Sarah into his arms. “I love you, Mrs. McDonald.”
His gaze deepened, turning those beautiful gray-green eyes nearly emerald. His kisses drugged her, one after the other, until her head spun out of control. She learned from him, exploring his mouth as he explored hers. Then he pulled back and unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips slipped down his arms, his skin beading from her touch.
Her turn. His fingers trembled as they undid her buttons, sliding ever so gently across her collarbone and pushing the material away like opening the petals of a flower. Her body reached out to him in a way it never had before, yearning, seeking fulfillment. “I love you too.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
Her fingertips trailed over his chest muscles. “You are too.”
After that she drowned in desire, until she found herself nearly naked on the bed with him.
“I’ve waited so long to love you,” he whispered, his mouth drawing a path of fire all over her body.
“I’ve dreamed of this for… forever.”
Her fingers tightened around the back of his neck as his lips engulfed hers. She grew bolder, learning the curves and valleys of his body as he did the same to hers. The floodgates to her yearning begged to open but a tiny shaft of fear kept stabbing at her. She let his kisses mend each tear, until she fell into the spell he weaved. Their clothes long gone, his hips settled between her legs, his weight unfamiliar.
“Kitten?”
She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
“I’ll never hurt you. I promise. But I can’t do this without—”
She lifted up and kissed him, opening her body, her mind, and her heart until they could go no further. She fell back onto the mattress. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
He thrust as gently as he could. There was pain but as she gazed up into his eyes, it became memory. Understanding her wishes, he pulled out and sheathed himself, sliding inside again before she could take her next breath. Then all thought ceased. Nothing existed but the two of them.
Together.
Snuggled deep in his arms, basking in the aftermath, Sarah dozed. When she awoke, his kisses were making her body come alive even more than before. He slipped deep inside her again and this time their lovemaking wasn’t about pain, but about pleasure, and the floodgates opened to a raging torrent. And as Sarah came back down to earth, wonder filled her being. Reality was so much better than dreams, she thought, drifting off once more. Mac joined her, snuggling her deep into the crook of his arm.
By the time they awoke again, darkness had fallen.
Sarah stretched, feeling muscles she’d never used before and rose. “Where are you going?” Mac asked, looking adorable and tussled with just a sheet draping his hips.
Sarah laughed. “To the bathroom. And you’re going to call for room service while we get dressed. We have show tickets, remember?”
“Forget them,” he insisted with a waggle of his brows.
She made a face back at him, an unfamiliar soreness between her legs. “No. I need to… rest.”
Sara was never quite sure if it was the lift of his lips that tugged just so at the strings of her heart, or if it was the dimple that deepened by the corner of his mouth. Either way, when he looked at her like that, she’d forgive most anything.
“My apologies, Mrs. McDonald.”
Still, it didn’t hurt to keep that a secret. “Huh.”
He laughed softly and Sarah could feel the heat creep into her cheeks. “Then you’d better shower first,” he told her. “I can’t swear to my behavior if provoked.”
Not quite taking his words to heart, she sat in front of the mirror on the desk, putting on her makeup while he changed into a suit. Watching him, she couldn’t quite decide which she preferred, suit or uniform.
Room service arrived. “Hungry?” he asked, the question filled with innuendo.
She answered the visceral one as her stomach growled. “Starving.”
They ate, feeding each other bites of a thick rich juicy steak and drinking the complimentary champagne, teasing and laughing all the while.
They reached their seats just before the curtain rose. Transported, Sarah loved every moment of the show. “I can’t believe how wonderful it was.”
He grinned. “Watching you watch the show was even better. You leaned forward as if you wanted to be on stage right there with them.”
“Oh Mac,” she breathed.
“Come on. Let’s take a walk.”
The strip pulsed with a life all its own. Neon glittered everywhere. The glitz and glitter didn’t dazzle Sarah. No, she left that for his hazel-green gaze. The people and the sights became a blur and Sarah found herself back at the Excelsior in the Tower Bar sitting at a secluded table in the back, another Manhattan in front of her.
Sara hummed the tune to the show’s most captivating song, You Are Beautiful. She felt his gaze on her, her skin rippling with sensation. “What?”
He smiled, that damned dimple showing in his cheek. “I was just thinking how lucky I am.”
Was it possible to love too much?
“You think that now,” she retorted, grabbing at the last piece of her sanity. For if he took that last tiny vestige of her heart, what would be left? Especially if something happened, if he went missing, if he was… she couldn’t even think the word.
In complete and utter self-defense she added, “Wait until I’m fat and a mess and we have two screaming toddlers running around the living room in diapers.”
His gaze turned liquid. “I’d love that.”
She would too, but that was an impossible fairytale. As much as she wanted children, as much as the thought turned her insides to mush, Sarah refused to bring a child into this world without a father. Sipping her drink, she shook her head. “No, Mac. We agreed. Not until you come home. For good. I couldn’t bear it if—”
“Hey,” he whispered, his knuckle lifting her chin. Tears filled his eyes too. “I told you earlier, these are not allowed. We’re on our honeymoon.” His thumb wiped away the wetness that escaped down her cheek. “All right. Agreed.”
But Sarah knew what he was thinking, what they both were thinking. Very real possibilities loomed over each and every word, each and every heartbeat. He might not come back. Anything could happen. His helicopter could go down in the middle of the jungle. He could be captured by the enemy. A stray bullet could lodge inside his body and he might not come back at all.
They went upstairs and this time they made love with a poignant urgency. Still Sarah refused to give in to that very real, very terrifying possibility. If she did, it would be tantamount to accepting that he might remain in a rice paddy somewhere for eternity. Something Sarah would never do.
*
Sarah slept late the next
morning. She awoke to her husband’s gaze and smiled. “What time is it?”
“Half past ten.”
Sarah stretched with the languid contentment of a cat after a long nap. “So late? Why’d you let me sleep?” Especially when every moment together is so precious, she added to herself.
“Because I loved watching you.”
Before she could even voice the thought, he handed her a cup of coffee. After her first sip, she sat up and asked, “What shall we do today?”
He cupped his chin with his hand, making believe he was thinking. “Why not be decadent and lay around the pool a while.”
Sarah smiled, knowing that had been a foregone conclusion. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Are you hungry? I left you some toast and eggs, although I’m sure the eggs are cold by now.”
“Toast is fine. But first, I need a shower.”
Sarah had just stepped into the stall when she felt his hands on her body. Silent as a cat stalking prey, he’d crept up on her, nearly scaring her half to death. And that adrenaline rush created a need greater than any she’d felt. As sweet as the night before had been, this time was different, more visceral, more mating than loving.
His fingers sluiced water and soap down her body. Slick and hungry, his kisses invaded, drawing out the animal in her. And when he kneeled down to pay homage, Sarah wondered where this biting, scratching, out of control woman came from. No longer demure, she gave as good as she got, laughing softly when they came back down to earth on the floor instead of the bed.
They didn’t make it down to the pool until early afternoon. By then, shade became the watchword of the day. Mac found them chaise lounges under the awning that bordered the hotel patio, kissed her, and then dove into the pool, his lean muscular body making him stand out among the crowd. Not to be outdone, Sarah stuck her hair in a bathing cap and joined him, though his abilities far exceeded hers.
Romantic Times Page 3
