Wedding Song

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Hell. He paced in front of the window and flexed his fingers. He didn’t want to face what he was thinking. It was unworthy of him. But ever since last night, when she’d bombed at Compulsions, an evil little voice had been whispering inside his head.

  The voice said Kerry might fail.

  Maybe he’d been wrong when he’d imagined star quality in her. Maybe he’d been so smitten by her in Eternity that he’d misjudged her audience appeal. Sure, she’d charmed the crowd on Fourth of July. They were primed for it. And as for Monday night at the reception, just about everyone there had looked at Kerry and seen themselves as young hopefuls. Of course they’d cheered her on.

  But the crowd at Compulsions was the real test, and she hadn’t moved them. Was he that much of a cad that he was banking on her failure? Was he binding her to him sexually so he’d still have some hold on her when he had to deliver the bad news that she wasn’t cut out for the big time?

  No.

  If that had been part of his thinking, he’d squash that motivation now. Kerry wanted fame, and he’d do whatever he could to give it to her. She cared for him, and he could provide a base of support when she desperately needed one. Without him there last night she would have gone back to Eternity. He’d prevented that, and he could cushion whatever other blows came her way while she was here. With his help, she’d make it.

  And that would cost him. She’d unlocked emotions he hadn’t felt since…since Suzanne. He’d always wondered if he’d ever love with that sort of intensity again. He had his answer. He could love even more intensely. Last night had been incredible, and this morning… He hadn’t pulled an insane stunt like that in fifteen years. Feeling wild and carefree, heedless of the consequences, was terrific while it lasted, but there was always a price to pay, wasn’t there? Look at Suzanne. Look at Steve.

  Two people in Judd’s life had brought out the uninhibited, joyous side of him. Both of those people were dead. Now here was a third person who made him ignore caution and live for the moment. He wasn’t morbid enough to think Kerry would die, too. But she’d leave him, which for him would have the same consequence.

  She needed him now, but when the applause started coming again, she wouldn’t. He could picture the guilt and sorrow in her green eyes as she told him she had to move on. Then there’d be the wrenching in his gut as he let her go.

  But until that day came, she needed his support, his encouragement, even his love. In offering all that to her, he was probably as crazy as Steve had been, sailing his catamaran out of the harbor despite the storm clouds on the horizon. Maybe he and Steve weren’t so different, after all.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced at his watch. Good thing it was waterproof, although after what happened in the shower this morning, he wouldn’t have cared if the expensive works had rusted beyond repair.

  Unfortunately his half hour of thinking time had elapsed. With a sigh he punched a button and picked up the receiver.

  “Stella Woodhouse is on the line,” Lois said. “Shall I take a message or put her through?”

  “Put her through.” He had to subdue a moment of panic whenever he got a call from Stella. There was always the possibility something had happened to Rachel. He cleared the tension from his throat and picked up the phone. “Hi, Stella.”

  “Hi, Judd. Rachel’s fine.”

  He released his held breath. He appreciated her starting out that way. She was a good person, which made his decision all the more difficult. “Glad to hear it.”

  “I hate to bother you at work, but I wanted to call you when Rachel isn’t around. She’s just gone over to Marcie’s house to play.”

  “That’s okay, Stella. I’ve told you to call anytime. Rachel’s my top priority.”

  “I realize that. I’m sure you’ve given a lot of thought to our discussion the night of the clambake. I took Rachel over to the school today, and she seemed to like it. The teacher she would have for fifth grade happened to be there. Mrs. Bierce. She and Rachel really hit it off.”

  “I see.” The campaign was continuing. Judd sat back in his swivel chair and massaged his temple where a headache threatened. “Did you ask Rachel if she’d like to go to school there?”

  “Well, no, not specifically. I wouldn’t put that kind of question to her unless I knew what you’d decided. That’s why I’m calling, to find out if you have decided anything.”

  “No. No, I haven’t.” The pain moved to the back of his head.

  “I don’t want to push you, Judd, but if we’re going to do this…”

  “I know. Give me a week, Stella.”

  There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line. “Are you…seeing someone?”

  He wanted to laugh. Stella was afraid he’d found a candidate for a wife, which would end the Woodhouses’ chances of keeping Rachel. If Stella only knew the circumstances of the woman he was “seeing,” she wouldn’t worry at all.

  “Never mind,” she said quickly when he didn’t answer. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “I just need more time. I’m sorry to keep you hanging like this, but there are so many things to consider.”

  “I understand. A week is fine. That will give us plenty of time before school starts. Take care, Judd. I’ll talk to you in a week.”

  “Goodbye, Stella.” He hung up the phone and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been expecting her call, and he should have made up his mind by now. Except Kerry had occupied his thoughts so completely that he’d pushed the matter of Rachel’s future to the back of his mind.

  Until last night he’d kidded himself that some wonderful woman might show up and solve his problems. The wonderful woman had shown up, and his problems were greater than ever. He’d been around enough to know that he wouldn’t easily find someone as perfect for him as Kerry. But Kerry wasn’t aiming for the job of wife and mother, and Rachel’s needs couldn’t be put on hold much longer.

  Judd swiveled his chair and gazed unseeingly at the magnificent view from his office window. Rachel and Kerry were the two people who made his life worth living. And if he kept their interests in mind, instead of his own, there was a good chance he’d end up losing them both.

  11

  THAT NIGHT Kerry sang for Judd. The rest of the crowd didn’t matter to her. She thought the response she got was better than the night before, but there were still people in the audience she never reached. She ignored them and focused on Judd. Although he sat in the back of the room and she couldn’t see his face well, she used her memories of him to fill in what the shadows obscured. He was her lifeline.

  No matter what happened with this audience, she’d be in Judd’s arms at the end of the night. He believed in her, cared for her, and satisfied longings she hadn’t known she had. During taping and rehearsals that day she’d been caught staring off into space a few times, but other than that she thought she’d hid her preoccupation with Judd quite well.

  Toward the end of the last set she grew impatient to be with him again. The crowd had thinned, and cigarette smoke had made her throat raw. When she finally took her last bow to a smattering of applause, she fled the stage and nearly ran down the hall to the back door, where Judd would be waiting in the limo.

  Zorba stood holding the car door open, and she practically threw herself into the limo and Judd’s arms.

  “Finally,” she breathed against his questing mouth.

  He kissed her thoroughly before drawing back. “Tonight went better,” he murmured.

  “Yes.” She traced the outline of his mouth and used her thumb to wipe away the smudges of lipstick she’d left there. “I’ve probably been expecting too much. A nightclub audience in New York won’t respond like a wedding-reception crowd in Eternity.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, Judd, I—” She paused and glanced at the window separating them from Zorba. It was closed. She turned to him and grinned. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”

  “Same here.” He gazed into her eyes. “It’s a wonder I got any
thing done today.”

  “Do you think anyone has guessed?”

  “If they have, they’re not saying.”

  She glanced toward the front of the limo again. “What about Zorba?”

  “Someone could drive splinters under his fingernails and he wouldn’t talk about my private business.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. This time she was delighted when the limo hurtled forward. She was in a hurry.

  She and Judd barely made it through his front door before they began tearing at each other’s clothes. Kerry heard a seam give way beneath her arm.

  Judd heard it, too, and paused. “Your dress.”

  “I can mend it.” Her fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt. “Just love me, Judd.”

  “I’ve been waiting all day to hear you say that.” His sure fingers divested her of the red dress and cupped her breasts, bringing them to his waiting mouth.

  She’d only unbuckled his belt by the time he guided her, wet and pulsing, to the deep pile of the living room rug.

  He braced himself on his knees and one palm. “You’ve turned me into a madman,” he gasped, ripping down his zipper and yanking at his briefs to reveal a thrusting erection.

  “I like madmen.” She reached down and caressed him, her heart pounding in anticipation.

  He fumbled in the pocket of his slacks, which still hung around his hips, and pulled out a condom.

  “You keep those in your pocket now?”

  “Depraved, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she murmured.

  “I even thought about making love in the limo.” He struggled with the cellophane. “But the window tint isn’t dark enough.”

  She took the package from him. “Let me.”

  He relinquished it and remained braced over her, breathing hard, while she lovingly sheathed him. “God, hurry,” he begged.

  “But I love touching you.”

  He groaned.

  She smoothed the latex down, regretting that she was covering his glorious satin skin. She wanted him, unprotected, deep inside her, his essence flowing into her. She wanted it in a primal way that made her mouth moisten and her fingers tremble. She could strip away the condom and seduce him. He was gradually losing all rational thought, and he wouldn’t stop.

  “Kerry.” His voice was hoarse.

  She looked up into his eyes. No, not yet. Maybe not ever. After all, they’d said nothing about love. With one last caress, she leaned back and raised her hips in silent invitation. He made a noise low in his throat and thrust home. She closed her eyes and savored the press of him deep inside her. She had this much. She shouldn’t be greedy for more.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Kerry awoke to find Judd sitting on the end of the bed, dressed in the burgundy robe and examining her red dress.

  Still naked, but with the comforter tucked up under her arms, she propped herself up on one elbow and pushed the hair from her eyes. “Don’t tell me you sew, too?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Nope. Not one of my talents. This dress needs more than one seam repaired, though.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He stood and laid the dress over the back of his desk chair. “We’ll send it out to be cleaned and mended today.”

  “But I—”

  “In fact, we’re going one step further. I need to buy you another dress. I should be able to get away for an hour or so. I’ll meet you somewhere and we’ll pick something out.”

  She flushed. “Judd, you shouldn’t do that. I don’t expect Lighthouse to buy my—”

  “I didn’t say Lighthouse is buying it. I am.”

  “That’s even worse. As if I’m some sort of kept woman.”

  His tawny eyes darkened as he crossed to the bed and grasped her bare arms. “Is that what you think? That you’re going to owe me something after this?”

  She was taken aback by the fierceness of his gaze. “Well, after all, you—”

  “No.” His fingers tightened on her arms. “You owe me nothing. Not now or ever. I brought you to New York because I thought you might make money for my company. Strictly business.”

  She met his gaze, her heart pounding. “And what is this?”

  His grip softened and he settled her gently to the bed again. “Pleasure,” he murmured. “And I hope to hell that’s what it is for you, because if I thought you were in this bed out of some sense of obligation, I’d—”

  She laughed then, thinking of the pounding need that engulfed her whenever they touched, a need that even now was curling through her, begging to be satisfied. “Obligation?” she said. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good,” he murmured, running his fingers lightly up her arms. “Then we’ll get the dress today during a lunch break. We’re not far from Saks.”

  She hooked a finger through the tie of his robe and pulled gently. “Okay.”

  A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “If I hadn’t been mauling you the past two nights your red one would be in better shape. I knew it was all you had and I should have been more careful.”

  She pulled the belt free and his robe fell open. She feasted on the sight of his aroused body. “You don’t ever have to apologize for being anxious to get my clothes off.”

  He threw back the covers and gazed at her, his eyes taking in her breasts as they quivered from her rapid breathing. “Then maybe I’ll buy you several dresses, so I can rip them off you. God, but you’re glorious, Kerry.”

  She smiled up at him. “Maybe I should sing dressed like this.”

  He shrugged out of the robe. “Only for me,” he murmured, lowering himself down beside her and circling her nipple with his tongue. “Only for me,” he whispered again, and groaned as he took it in his mouth.

  * * *

  KERRY STOOD before a triple mirror in a dressing room at Saks Fifth Avenue as a solicitous saleswoman adjusted the thin strap of the fourth dress Kerry had tried on so far. The first three had been chosen by her and the saleswoman. This last one had been selected by Judd. He sat in an upholstered chair just outside the dressing room door, his ankle crossed over his knee, his tie loosened. From the moment they’d entered the store, he’d seemed perfectly at ease with the idea of picking out Kerry’s dress.

  Apparently he knew exactly what he wanted to see, because as soon as she’d appeared in the other three dresses, he’d given one quick shake of his head.

  On the third one she’d decided to argue with him. She liked the emerald green, which went well with her eyes. And a glimpse at the price tag told her the dress was the least expensive of the four. It would do fine, and she wouldn’t feel so guilty about the gift. True, the green dress had long, unfashionable puffed sleeves and an unfortunate white silk rose at the waist, but it would suffice.

  “We can remove the rose,” the saleswoman had said, fluttering around Kerry. “We might even be able to take in the sleeves a bit, although I’m not sure that wouldn’t defeat the design.”

  “And we can cut her hair so she’ll look like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. Nope. I know what I’m looking for.”

  “I think you’re being too picky,” Kerry had offered.

  He’d regarded her calmly. “I’ve been told that, too. Try the black.”

  She’d saved the black dress for last, because it cost more than six months’ worth of income from her piano students. Black stretch lace sprinkled with rhinestones scooped low over her breasts and hugged her waist and hips to the top of her thighs. Where the body-molding lace ended, the skirt continued in a swirl of sheer black chiffon that ended at midcalf. Judd had picked out rhinestone-studded sling-backed pumps to go with it.

  Kerry turned in front of the mirror. The folds of chiffon twirled, providing glimpses of her legs through the material. The black lace outlined her breasts and accentuated her small waist. It was a dress made for seduction. Taking a deep breath, she
walked out of the dressing room.

  Judd didn’t change position when she appeared, but she saw his jaw tighten. A light came into his eyes. It was a look she’d learned to know in the past two days, and her heart quickened.

  “Isn’t she lovely?” the saleswoman gushed. “You have exquisite taste, Mr. Roarke. Exquisite.”

  Judd didn’t say anything, but there was no quick shake of the head this time. Kerry turned slowly, enjoying her sense of power. She’d struck him dumb. It wasn’t every day a girl could do that to a man as experienced as Judd Roarke. She paused as the skirt swirled back into place. “Well?”

  “Nice.” His voice sounded strained, and he shifted his weight ever so slightly in the chair. She wondered if his briefs were becoming a little tight.

  “It’s very expensive,” she said.

  “But considering the workmanship,” the saleswoman said, “and that the designer is so well-known, and considering how wonderful the dress looks on her, I think it’s a bargain.”

  Judd didn’t say anything, just kept looking at Kerry.

  “I wasn’t sure if you noticed the price tag when you picked it out,” Kerry ventured.

  “I did. Get it.”

  She hesitated.

  “Please.”

  She heard more than courtesy in his tone. He was fast becoming a desperate man. “All right,” she said, and left for the dressing room.

  As soon as she was out of the dress the saleswoman whisked it away. “Mr. Roarke says he’ll pay for this now. Apparently he’s late for an appointment.”

  Kerry glanced at her watch as she put on her blouse. She knew Judd had blocked out an hour for this shopping trip, and they’d only been gone from the office for half that time. She stepped into her skirt and buttoned it quickly, wondering what had come up.

  When she emerged from the dressing room Judd was standing there, the dress in a garment bag slung over one shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “Aren’t we going back separately? You can give me the dress and leave if you have an appointment.”