Her right hand grazed his cheek, the stubble of an emerging beard rasping under her fingertips. “What are we doing, Joshua? We aren’t even married and we’re fighting about our careers.”
He grasped her wrist and pressed his lips to her palm. He glanced up, not releasing her hand. “You aren’t the only one experiencing premarital jitters,” he whispered against the silken flesh.
Vanessa wound her free arm around his neck, pulling his head down to her breasts. “I can’t imagine you getting upset by anything. You always seem to be in complete control of everything that you do or say.”
“I’m not in control right now,” he admitted.
She felt the uncanny strength in his slender hands as they tightened on her waist, easing her back to the softness of the bed. “Why not?”
Settling his body over hers, Joshua supported his greater weight on his elbows as he studied the face of the woman he would protect with his own life. “How am I going to leave you?”
A cold knot formed in her stomach, moving up slowly and not permitting her to draw a normal breath. They weren’t even married, and he was talking about leaving her.
“You’re…you’re going to leave me?” The question came out as a breathless whisper.
“Whenever I leave for a business trip,” he explained.
The tense lines on her face relaxed with his explanation. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want to know if you’re going to mind my traveling.”
“How often will you be away?”
“It varies. Sometimes a week, and sometimes a month or longer.”
Vanessa was keenly aware of Joshua’s scrutiny and knew he was testing her and her responses. “What is it you want me to say? That I’ll miss you?” He didn’t move or speak. “Of course I’d miss you,” she continued. “Any normal woman who loves her husband misses him if he’s not with her. But don’t expect me to make your decision for you. If you choose to travel to earn your living, then I’ll have to accept that. But if you decide to work for a company based in Santa Fe, then you’ll find out every night how pleased I’ll be to have you home with me.”
The harsh lines in his face softened in a smile. “That sounds like an offer that would make me the world’s biggest fool if I refused to consider it.”
She stared wordlessly, again caught off guard by the man who appeared to change in front of her eyes. He’d changed from an erudite world traveler to an uncompromising interrogator when he questioned the security staff at La Mérida about the break-in at her room, then to a laid-back tourist strolling through the centuries-old streets of Oaxaca with her while she shopped for hours. He had also become the consummate seducer, and she had succumbed to his spell, fallen in love with him, and given him her promise that she would become his wife and the mother of his children.
Pinpoints of happiness brightened her dark eyes as she returned his smile. There was no need for her to tell him how much she loved him, because her eyes spoke volumes for her.
Joshua buried his face between her scented shoulder and neck. He mumbled softly in Spanish before repeating the phrase in French and in Italian.
“What did you say?” she asked, her soft breath whispering over his ear.
“I just asked for strength to make it through one more day of shopping,” he translated.
Her tongue grazed the ear seconds before her teeth caught the lobe gently. “Apologize,” she threatened, not releasing his ear.
Joshua gasped aloud from the pressure of her sharp teeth. “No.”
“Apologize.” Vanessa tightened her hold on his ear seconds before she screamed in surprise, freeing him. “That’s not fair,” she sputtered as his hand swept up her thigh and covered the soft, furred mound concealing her femininity.
“That’s because you don’t play fair.”
The heat from his hand aroused her lust for him, and she couldn’t stop her body’s natural response when a rush of dampness signaled her body was ready for his.
He raised his head and stared at her. Her gaze was wide and filled with uncertainty. He’d promised her that they would not make love again until after they were married, but the nectar flowing from Vanessa and bathing his fingers threatened to make him break his vow. He had also told Father Peña that he would not make love to his wife until after they’d received the sacrament of Holy Matrimony. He had many sins to confess before the elderly priest married them, and he didn’t want to add a new one to the others he’d amassed over the years.
His hand moved around to cradle her hip. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to shop.”
Her gaze widened. “Shop?”
“It’s either that or break a vow.” He moved quickly off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
“Vow?” Vanessa whispered after he’d disappeared. She quickly forgot about his cryptic statement when she eased her body out of bed, her head filled with plans for her upcoming wedding.
She found her dress and shoes in a boutique that featured vintage clothing and accessories. The sleeveless, silk, champagne colored dress boasted an Empire waist with four-leaf-clover embroidery from neckline to the hem, which graced the toes of matching satin slippers with just a hint of a heel.
She paid for her purchases, agreeing with the saleslady when she suggested she wear her hair in a twist entwined with orange blossoms. “Orange blossoms are a traditional wedding motif, and signal a long and happy marriage,” the woman whispered, glancing over at Joshua, who sat on a delicate chair flipping through a magazine.
Vanessa saw the direction of her gaze and smiled. “Do you have something I can use as a wedding gift for the groom?”
“Does your novio wear shirts with French cuffs? Because I happen to have a pair of cuff links that are simply exquisite.”
A frown creased her brow as she tried recalling whether Joshua had worn cuff links with any of his shirts. Then she remembered—the night they’d shared dinner at Le Mérida he’d worn a shirt with French cuffs!
“Sí Señora, he does,” she replied.
Vanessa took one look at the gold oval cuff links inlaid with minuscule rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. The overall design resembled the many mosaics on the floors and walls of churches and museums she had seen during her stay in Mexico.
Pushing her credit card across the counter for the second time, she said, “I’ll take it.” Within minutes the transaction was completed, the gift gaily wrapped and placed in the shopping bags with her other purchases.
She walked over to Joshua and handed him the bags. “I’m ready to leave now.”
He took the bundles, rising to his feet as a mysterious smile curved his mouth. “Where to now?”
“I want to go back to the jewelry store we went to yesterday and pick up the silver necklace for my sister Connie.”
Joshua glanced at his watch. “We’d better hurry before they close for siesta.”
They made it to the tiny shop in the Galeria de Arte de Oaxaca moments before Pablo Mendoza placed a sign in the window signaling he was closed.
The skin around his dark eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I see you’ve come back for the necklace.”
Vanessa smiled, nodding. “I’d never forgive myself if I left Mexico without it.”
Pablo clasped his hands and pressed them against his heart. “I must confess that I knew you’d return for it. I cleaned it and wrapped it up after you left yesterday. I’ll make out a sales receipt and it’s yours.”
Joshua, moving to Vanessa’s side, reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small leather case filled with several credit cards. “I’d like to take a look at the necklace again before we pay for it.” There was no way he would permit Vanessa to accept the package without knowing its contents.
Pablo Mendoza hesitated. “Pero, Señor, it is wrapped so prettily.”
“Then unwrap it and rewrap it so prettily,” he demanded facetiously in flawless Spanish.
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened in astonishment
. It was apparent that the man with the very beautiful Americana spoke Spanish quite well. “Sí, Señor.”
Joshua watched as Mendoza removed the paper from the box containing the necklace, then flipped open the lid to display the magnificence of the silver and turquoise chain and pendant.
“Muchas gracias, Señor Mendoza.”
Pablo Mendoza’s jaw tightened, but he managed a conciliatory smile for Joshua as he called to a salesclerk from the rear of the shop to rewrap the box.
Vanessa waited until they left the shop and returned to where Joshua had parked the car before saying, “What was that all about back there?”
He started the car. “What are you talking about?”
“Why did you make Mr. Mendoza unwrap and rewrap the package? I—”
“There was no way I was going to let you walk out of that place with a package that you assumed contained a necklace,” he interrupted.
“What do you think it could contain, if not a necklace?”
“A couple of worthless coins. Or even a piece of glass. And if the necklace wasn’t there, would you come back and confront him?”
“Of course not. It wouldn’t be worth it.”
“That’s why I did what I did.”
“Thank you for making me aware of what could happen. I suppose I’m somewhat too trusting.”
Wrong, Vanessa. Spies aren’t trusting at all, he thought. His right hand covered her left. “You’re quite welcome, Angel.”
Her eyes brightened in laughter as she studied Joshua’s perfect profile. “I just realized that tonight will be my last night as a single woman.”
“Have you planned anything special to celebrate the rite of passage?” he teased.
“Celebrating it with you.”
He gave her a wide grin, displaying all of his straight, white teeth in his darkly tanned face. “Doing what?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to help me out with the list of possibilities.” He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a lecherous grin. “Not that,” she giggled.
“Not what?” He affected an expression of innocence.
“You know, Joshua.”
He registered her demure smile, and it took all of his self-control not to maneuver over to the side of the road and pull her across his lap, where he could devour her lush, sweet, tempting mouth.
“No, I don’t know,” he said after a long, comfortable silence. “But I’d be willing to have you show me tomorrow night.”
A warm flush swept over Vanessa’s face. She turned her head and stared out the window as Joshua hummed off-key under his breath.
Day Seven—In less than twenty-four hours Vanessa Blanchard would become Vanessa Kirkland.
Chapter 15
Vanessa stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the door of the armoire. The stylist at the hotel’s salon had shampooed and blown out her hair, then pinned up her shoulder-length tresses in a style reminiscent of a Gibson Girl’s. A circle of fresh orange blossoms sat atop the raven strains like a delicate halo. The hairdo was perfect for her Regency-style dress.
Joshua walked into the dressing room, slipping a Windsor-knotted, chocolate brown silk tie into place under the spread collar of a crisp, pristine white shirt. His stride was purposeful when he closed the distance between them and stood behind her. He wore a pair of wheat-colored tailored trousers that matched the jacket she’d seen him wear on the flight to Mexico City.
She smiled at his reflection. “If you’re going to wear that shirt, then I think you should wear something I bought for you.” Reaching into a drawer of the armoire, she withdrew a gaily wrapped package. “My wedding gift,” she stated, turning and handing him the small parcel.
Smiling broadly, he wagged a finger at her. “You didn’t have to buy me anything.”
“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to.”
“Why?”
She gave him a sensual smile, her lids lowering slowly. “Because I love you, that’s why.”
His hands were steady as he unwrapped the box containing his wedding gift. Flipping the top, he stared down at the flash of diamonds nestled among the spray of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires inlaid in an oval of burnished yellow gold. The decorative paper and bow floated to the floor when he reached out with one hand and pulled her to his chest.
The hard lines of his slim body and the heat from his flesh burned Vanessa through the delicate fabric of her wedding dress as Joshua wordlessly and passionately thanked her.
“I’ll treasure them always,” he said, his clean breath sweeping over an ear. What he didn’t tell her was that it was the first time a woman had ever given him anything other than her body. But Vanessa was not just any woman—she was to become his wife in less than two hours.
Pulling back, he handed her the box containing the cuff links. “Put them in for me.” Within minutes she’d removed his conservative, solid gold, monogrammed cuff links and replaced them with the elegant jeweled ones.
Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his smooth, freshly-shaven, brown cheek. “Now it’s your turn to help me put my bracelet on.” Joshua secured the diamond bracelet around her right wrist, lingering to kiss her scented arm.
“I don’t know about you,” he began quietly, “but I’m going to a wedding, and I don’t want to be late.”
“Why are we leaving so early? You told me Father Peña will marry us at five, and it takes less than twenty minutes to drive to the church.”
Joshua withdrew his jacket from the armoire. “Father Peña wants to see me at four-thirty.”
“Why?”
Turning back to Vanessa, he studied her intently. Would she understand that he was obligated to reveal to the elderly priest what he could never tell her? “In lieu of us attending Pre-Cana—the Catholic premarriage counseling—he has requested that I receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation.”
“Reconciliation?”
“Confession.”
Her expression revealed confusion. “It sounds so profound.”
“Profound as it might sound, it’s necessary. Father Peña did not allow me an option.”
Vanessa watched as Joshua put on his jacket and adjusted his shirt cuffs. “And you’re going through with it, because without it he won’t marry us?”
His hands slipped up her bare arms, bringing her closer. “If I had to walk on water to marry you, then I’d do it.”
The eyes that could freeze and heat her body with a glance bore into hers with a strange, new savage fire that pulled her in and refused to let her go. Everything that Joshua Kirkland felt at that instant she felt. They had become one—in mind and in spirit.
Again, swallowing to relieve the dryness in her throat, she whispered, “Let’s go get married.”
Vanessa waited for Joshua to translate the priest’s words before replying in English, while Father Peña’s housekeeper, doubling as their witness, smiled.
She had taken the vow to love and cherish her husband, and to forsake all others. Joshua placed the ring on her finger, then Father Peña placed his heavily veined hand over their clasped ones and prayed in a softly musical voice, while her new husband stared down at her bowed head. Father Peña withdrew his hand, smiling, then told Joshua that he could kiss his wife.
Vanessa felt the repressed passion in the kiss as Joshua’s mouth covered hers possessively. She was now a married woman. Eight days after meeting Joshua Kirkland for the first time on a flight from Santa Fe, New Mexico, for Mexico City, Mexico, she had become Vanessa Kirkland.
“Te amo, darling,” he whispered in her ear.
“And I love you, too,” she whispered back, her eyes filling with tears of happiness.
Father Peña made the sign of the cross over them, saying, “Go with God to love and serve the Lord, my children. May your lives be filled with peace and love and blessed with children from this most precious sacrament of service.”
Joshua shook Father Peña’s hand, nodding in reverence as he thanked him for everything.
&n
bsp; The elderly priest returned the nod, smiling. He had heard the younger man’s confession, and it was no doubt that he loved the woman he’d married. He only hoped that the beautiful young bride would not be drawn into the danger her husband had elected to pursue in his career.
The housekeeper nodded to Father Peña. He inclined his head once, then turned his attention to Vanessa and Joshua. “Señor and Señora Kirkland, you would honor me if you joined me in a humble, post-wedding repast.”
Joshua’s brow furrowed slightly. He’d planned to take his wife to La Morsa, a restaurant set amid tropical gardens and fountains, for their wedding dinner, but at the priest’s request he decided it could wait for the following evening. After he met with Cordero Birmingham in San Miguel he’d return to Oaxaca, where he and Vanessa would share their meal at La Morsa before returning to the States the next morning.
“The honor would be ours,” he replied as he curved an arm around Vanessa’s waist.
Leaning down, he whispered in her ear that Father Pena wanted them to share an early dinner with him, and that he had accepted the offer.
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “How generous.”
Following the priest out of the chapel, Joshua said quietly, “I told him that you agreed to raise our children as Catholics.” His hold on her waist tightened. “He was quite pleased with your decision.”
“And how about you, my husband? Does it please you?”
Staring down at her, their gazes met and held. “You please me, Vanessa Kirkland. Everything you do, everything you say, pleases me.”
Father Peña’s housekeeper was an excellent cook, and she had prepared several seafood dishes with distinct, trademark Mexican flavors: tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and garlic were the foundation when blended with hot peppers, achiote, cloves, smoky cilantro and sweet canela, Mexican cinnamon. Lime juice, capers, and green olives stimulated the palate instead of overpowering it.
The three dined on Huachinango a la Veracruzana, Salpicon de Huachinango, and Shrimp Mojo de Ajo, with salsa, avocado, and sweet plantains. Vanessa drank two glasses of a heavy, rich red wine, while Joshua and the priest shared a bottle.
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