by Diana Palmer
Grier’s eyes widened. “You did?”
Brannon sat very still. “Now, listen here…”
“Engaged.” Grier nodded. He grinned. He chuckled. He turned around and started walking away.
“You’re not invited! If you show up at the wedding, you’d better be wearing body armor and a raid jacket!” Brannon yelled at his retreating back.
Grier just kept walking.
With a groan, Brannon powered the window back up and turned to Josette.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
He studied her. She looked delicious with her hair loose around her shoulders and her mouth softly swollen from his kisses, and her blouse half undone. He couldn’t stop smiling at the picture she made.
“Hmm?” he murmured absently.
“Marc, what was that all about?” she insisted.
“Grier has this, uh, reputation for going to weddings,” he imparted slowly. “Reputation?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, don’t worry, because he isn’t doing it to ours. Honest. I promise.”
“Okay.” She opened her arms, just to see what would happen.
He went into them without hesitation, and began to kiss her again. Grier and his reputation were the last thing on his mind in the turbulent minutes that followed. And, just in case, he locked the doors….
Several weeks later, Josette was standing with Marc in a small, but beautiful little church in Jacobsville, Texas, having already signed a legal document and taken vows that made her Mrs. Josette Anne Langley Brannon.
She wore a simple white peasant dress with high heels and a hastily improvised veil that had been a lace mantilla. Amazingly, Brannon had even found two unique gold wedding bands that fit at the jewelry shop. She looked at the man she’d just married with her whole heart in her eyes.
“That was a lovely ceremony,” Josette told the minister and his wife, who’d acted as witnesses along with their daughter.
“It was our pleasure,” the minister told her, shaking hands with both of them. “Are you sure you didn’t want something grander? You’re both known in Jacobsville. Your mother was baptized here,” he reminded Brannon.
“Yes, but my sister is now a queen,” Brannon reminded him. “And I didn’t want a media frenzy.”
The minister cleared his throat. “Of course. Of course. Well, congratulations! And we’ll hope to see you both here one Sunday, if you’d like to visit.”
Josette looked up at her husband. “Yes,” she said for both of them. “I think we would.”
He held her hand all the way back to the ranch. They’d spent a wonderful three weeks being engaged while they went horseback riding and visiting friends, and generally getting to know each other all over again. They found so much in common that getting married seemed the most natural thing in the world. They even agreed on politics. The one place they drew the line was at sleeping together. And it was Marc who insisted on that condition. They were going to have a conventional wedding night, he informed her. He grinned at her blush and added that he was going to make her very glad that she’d waited for him. Which produced another blush.
He glanced at her while he drove and grinned at her shy scrutiny. They were going to spend a week honeymooning at Marc’s ranch, just the two of them. The housekeeper and wrangler had their own little cottage now, that Marc had provided the year before, so the newlyweds had the house to themselves.
Or so they thought. Then they arrived at the ranch. There was a crowd waiting for them.
Marc groaned out loud. “Oh, no. No! Grier, I’ll tie you to a horse and send you through a cactus thicket!” he swore.
Beside him, Josie chuckled. “So that’s what you meant, about Grier not coming to the wedding.”
“He did this to Bud Handley,” he said irritably, “and his wife actually shot at him!” His eyes narrowed. “Too bad she missed…!”
“Now, now.” She soothed him. “I’m sure they’ll go away soon. They just want to congratulate us.”
“That’s what you think,” he muttered, slowing down. “So help me, if I see one damned camera…!”
“There’s Grier on the porch! And isn’t that Judd Dunn?” she asked suddenly, staring at a tall, lean dark-haired man in jeans, wearing a Texas Ranger star on his shirt pocket. He was dangling a white hat in one hand, with a big booted foot propped against one of the columns on the ranch house’s front porch. “But who are those men and women with them?” she added, noting several other assorted uniforms and badges.
“Texas Rangers, local police, sheriff’s department, a couple of DEA guys, at least two local former mercenaries,” he said through his teeth. “From the look of things, most of the whole damned force!”
“They’re here to welcome you back to the community,” she exclaimed happily. “How sweet!”
Sweet. Sure. He was remembering that damned smile of Grier’s. And wasn’t that guy standing by himself Curtis Russell with the FBI? He groaned aloud.
As flattered as he was with the overwhelming welcome, Brannon would have preferred a card. A letter. A phone call. Anything except a crowd of law enforcement people on his front porch, on his wedding night!
“Be nice,” she chided. “They mean well.”
He looked at her as if she’d just burst out in green feathers.
“We’ll offer them coffee and cake and they’ll leave,” she said reasonably.
“Why will they leave?”
She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Well, we don’t have any, do we?”
“They’ll offer to go and get some!” he raged.
She shrugged. “Then we’ll just lock the doors before they get back.”
He burst out laughing. “Honey, you’re a treasure.”
“I married one, too.” She moved as close as the seat belt allowed and laid her head on his shoulder. “Marc, did you remember to call Gretchen?”
“I phoned her from the church on my cell phone, while you were tidying up in the ladies’ room,” he said. “She wasn’t in, but her personal secretary will relay the message.”
“That reminds me. I’m related to a head of state now!”
She sighed. “I feel as if I should stand up and salute or something.”
“Speaking of things that stand up and salute…” he muttered as he pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the bevy of grinning people.
“Congratulations!” Judd Dunn drawled, and moved aside to uncover a huge cooler. He opened it, displaying two magnums of the best champagne.
“Don’t forget the food,” another Ranger reminded him.
“I haven’t forgotten a thing.” Judd opened another cooler, displaying chilled shrimp on a platter with an interior bowl of cocktail sauce.
“My favorite food in the whole world!” Josie exclaimed. “You sweet guys!”
“And gals.” A brunette popped out, sticking her head from behind one of the really tall visitors. Four other female heads joined it, all grinning.
“And gals!” Josie added on a chuckle. “Thanks so much!”
“I didn’t know you liked shrimp cocktail,” Brannon said, surprised.
“You should read her résumé at the attorney general’s office,” the brunette said. “Like we did. She also likes French crepes and meat loaf.”
“Yes, I know. I can cook those,” Brannon murmured.
The Rangers exchanged wicked grins.
Brannon took off his hat and whacked Judd Dunn with it. “Thanks for the champagne. Now go away!”
“Marc!” Josie gasped, outraged.
He gave her a pointed glare and hit Judd again with the hat.
“Stop that,” Grier said in his best law enforcement voice. He moved in front of the other law enforcement people, holding a sheet of paper in his hand. “Lady and gentleman,” he read, with a deadpan glance at Brannon. “We, your friends in law enforcement, wish you all the best in your married life. If you are ever in trouble and need help, remember that we are only as far away as your phone.�
��
“My phone is in San Antonio,” Brannon said pleasantly. He extended a long arm and pointed. “It’s that way.”
“I have six more pages to read,” Grier announced belligerently.
“I have a shotgun in my den,” Brannon replied.
Everybody laughed.
“All right, Grier, you’ve done your bit. Now we’re leaving. We planned to, anyway,” Judd told Brannon with a chuckle. “Come on guys and gals, we’ve got bad men to catch!”
They all formed a line to shake hands and offer congratulations. Josette didn’t recognize the names, but she knew she’d learn them over time. She was touched by the crowd’s friendliness, and astonished at Grier’s.
They drove away, car by car, and Josette turned to her husband with soft, loving eyes after the last one had been waved off.
“We’re going to live in a very nice place.”
He nodded. He studied her soft, pretty face, surrounded by a cloud of blond hair. He smiled gently. “You make a beautiful bride, Mrs. Brannon.”
“You make a handsome groom.”
He sighed and turned to the coolers of champagne and shrimp cocktail. “Which would you like first?” he asked, studying them.
She closed both coolers and took his hand in hers. “Later,” she said, and lifted her wide, soft eyes to his.
It was still daylight. Even though the master bedroom was dark, she was a little uneasy with him. Her early memories of intimacy were painful ones, despite her joy in Brannon’s touch.
He drew her to him and searched her wide, worried eyes. His fingers drew lightly across her soft mouth. “A man who is a man doesn’t tear petals off rosebuds,” he whispered. “Do you understand me?”
She smiled slowly. “Yes. I think I do.”
He smiled back. “I’ve waited a long, long time for you, Mrs. Brannon,” he said softly. “I promise you, it’s going to be worth it. For both of us. Now stop worrying. We’re teenagers making out in a big, square parked car. Okay?”
She hadn’t thought that intimacy could be fun. He made it sound more like a wicked adventure than an ordeal of embarrassed first times.
She looked around at the room. “A big, square parked car?” she echoed.
“With all the windows closed,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against her mouth. “We’re going to fog up the windows.”
She remembered doing that in his vehicle outside her hotel, and she chuckled as she moved closer to him. “That was a small space. This is a very big room.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed lazily. “But we’re going to generate a lot of heat together.”
As he spoke, his hands moved gently up and down her sides, not even touching her intimately. He began to kiss her, very lightly, smiling as he felt her body relax into his.
For a long time, all he did was kiss her. Josette sighed as she felt the nonthreatening brush of his hard mouth on her lips. It was like when they’d first started dating. He was gentle and slow, and it was like exploring unknown territory all over again.
But this time, she wasn’t locked up in bad memories and afraid of the unknown. She loved this man with all her heart. She wanted a life with him, children with him.
Brannon nibbled her upper lip. “You see?” he whispered. “Slow and easy, Josie. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
She sighed. “I was so nervous,” she confessed.
“So was I.”
Josette drew back and met his twinkling eyes. “You’re not a novice,” she pointed out.
“With you, I am,” he replied quietly. “In the past, it was a need I satisfied, nothing more.” He searched her eyes. “With you, it’s an act of love.”
Her face mirrored her fascination. She touched his mouth with her fingertips. “I never loved anyone else,” she said slowly. “It was…always you.”
“Just as it was always you, for me,” he replied, bending. “For the past two years, I’ve gone hungry. You’re going to be the most delicious little banquet I ever put my mouth to.”
Josette smiled at his wording. Then his hands drew her into full contact with him and she felt the sudden hardness of his desire against her. She hesitated, but only for a few seconds. His mouth brushed her lips apart and one lean hand went slowly under her skirt and up against the silken skin of her thighs. He kissed her more insistently as he found her beneath the trifle of lace she wore and began to discover her intimately.
She gasped and his tongue shot into her mouth. She couldn’t get her breath. He’d only touched her like that once, a long time ago. But now he wasn’t hesitant or shocked at what he found, because her body was no longer a fortified sanctuary. It was open to his touch, to his desire, and she moaned jerkily as he found a pressure and a rhythm that lifted her in an arch against him.
It was evident that she’d never known physical pleasure. She clung to him, her nails bit into him, and she held on as if she were terrified that he might stop.
“Easy,” he whispered as she twisted against him. “This is just the beginning.”
“Marc…!” Her voice was tortured. She was blind, deaf, dumb. All she knew was the delight her body was discovering.
Her eyes closed so that she could savor it more fully. She was falling. There was something soft and cool at her back. The pleasure was dark and wicked and…she gasped as the urgency of it increased all at once.
“You’re much too intense,” he whispered into her mouth, and smiled. “Let me take the edge off that hunger first. Then we’ll start again.”
Josette didn’t understand. She started to speak when a jolt of pleasure lifted her off the bed. Her eyes flew open and met his, but they were sightless, blind with the building ecstasy that made her shiver with each brush of his fingers.
“No…oo!” she choked out, frightened.
His lips pressed tenderly to her eyes, closing them, and his touch became insistent. “I love you more than my life,” he breathed. “Let it happen.”
Seconds later, she went over some hot, pulsating precipice and began to shudder rhythmically, helplessly. She clung to him, her mouth open against his shirt as she gave herself to the ecstasy of fulfillment.
Afterward, of course, she cried. It was embarrassing and shocking, and her emotions were so scattered that she couldn’t tell up from down.
Brannon laughed tenderly, his lips slow and gentle on her face even though his powerful body had a faint tremor. “And now that you have a taste of what you can expect,” he whispered wickedly, “we can learn to share.”
“Sh…share?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He stripped her out of her dress and underthings and bent to put his mouth hard against her stomach before it moved up and brushed slowly over her taut breasts. “I love the way you taste,” he said softly. “Holding back is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it has to be perfect, this time. Absolutely perfect.”
Brannon stood up and began to divest himself of his own clothes. Her glasses were on the side table, but he was close enough that she could see him. When he got to the black boxer shorts he wore, her head turned away in faint embarrassment.
“None of that,” he said gently. “Look at me, Josette.”
Josette knew her face was scarlet as she forced her eyes back up. He was so aroused that it was impossible not to know it. His powerful body seemed poised on a knife edge as he looked down at her.
Amazingly, the sight of him like that made her hungry. She felt her body move of its own accord, and the eyes that met his were misty with desire.
“I don’t…understand what’s happening to me,” she managed to say, shivering.
He smiled slowly. “You will,” he said. And he eased down beside her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the tempestuous minutes that followed, Josie learned more about her own body than she’d ever known. His hands were expert as they brought her from one peak of pleasure to another, only to let her down gently at the last minute and start all over again.
“You’re killing me!” she protested wildly, as he stopped short again and rolled across the bed with her, one long, hard-muscled leg between both of hers as he bent to her breasts again and suckled her.
His fingers dug in at the top of her thighs and he chuckled against her body as he drew his hairroughened leg against the inside of her soft one. “That’s the idea,” he murmured. “What?”
Brannon nipped her shoulder before his mouth moved back up her chin to torment her swollen, soft mouth. “That’s what they call it. The little death.”
“Marc,” she groaned as his mouth bit hard into hers. Her hands were buried in the damp thickness of his wavy hair and her body was trembling. So was his. She wondered at his stamina, because it seemed a long time since he’d undressed her. He was still fiercely aroused, but when she lifted to tempt him, he only moved away again.
She felt him touching her as the hunger built to flash point. She steeled herself for another sudden stop, but it didn’t happen. This time, he sank into her. She felt him with awe, with wonder, as her body protested just faintly the newness of invasion.
He lifted his head and looked into her wide eyes. His face was clenched and she felt him shiver with every hard downward movement of his hips. Only then did it occur to her that he’d reached the limit of his endurance.
“Help me,” he whispered harshly. “I can’t hold it for much longer.”
“I don’t…” she faltered breathlessly.
“Find the position you need,” he murmured against her mouth. “Shift your body against mine until you feel the pleasure bite into you…there, sweetheart?”
“There!” she gasped, lifting helplessly in an arch. “Oh…yes…there!”
His mouth opened and began to penetrate hers. He felt her body dance with his, felt her arch up to him, press herself as close as she could get. She was rigid with it, he could feel the pulsation in her even as he felt it begin in himself. He was hot, throbbing, swelling…
He cried out in an agony of release, his whole body flung up into glorious joy and mind-killing satisfaction. He hoped she was going with him, because he lost it entirely. He shuddered again and again and again, groaning her name as the waves of pleasure knocked him almost unconscious.
