Arizona Caress: She Feels The Heat Of His Hot Embrace

by Bobbi Smith

  "I love you, Mother." He hugged her tightly one more time and kissed her cheek gently, with deep affection.

  "Shall we go to your wedding?"

  "I can't believe it's almost time," Rori said as she started upstairs with Charlotte to get ready for the ceremony.

  "I know. Isn't it thrilling?"

  "Yes. I thought I was going to be nervous, but I'm not. I'm excited," Rori confided as they entered her bedroom to find that Mildred, Aunt Charlotte's maid, had already drawn a bath for her and laid out her clothing.

  "That's the way it should be, dear."

  "You know, I miss Chance already," she told Charlotte.

  "Well, after today, you'll never have to be apart again."

  "I know." Rori smiled. "Isn't it wonderful?"

  "It most certainly is," she replied. "Do you have everything you need here?"

  "I think so, Aunt Charlotte."

  "Fine. If you need anything else, just call. I'm going to go get dressed myself, and I'll send Mildred to you as soon as she's finished with my hair."

  When Charlotte had gone, Rori quickly shed her clothes and stepped into the heated bath. The water was a relaxing balm, and Rori leaned back in the tub to enjoy its soothing warmth. Thoughts of the upcoming nuptials blended with distant memories of her mother and father and the warmth of their love that she could still remember after all this time. She was determined to make her marriage to Chance as special as theirs had been. She thought of Burr, too, and regretted deeply that he wasn't there to share in her happiness.

  A single tear traced a tender path down her cheek as she whispered out loud, "I love you, Grampa."

  Chance reentered her thoughts then, and she realized that she couldn't relax in the bath any longer, for he would be arriving at any moment. She had to hurry! She couldn't be late for her own wedding!

  As Rori picked up the perfumed soap, the memory of the bath Chance had given her came to mind. She smiled in appreciation of that night and hoped with all her heart that the night to come would be even more exciting. She gave a shiver of excitement at the thought and hurried to finish washing.

  A short time later Rori was seated at the dressing table wearing only her chemise, watching her reflection as the very talented Mildred worked on her hair. The maid fashioned her raven tresses up on top of her head in a style that gave Rori a regal look, emphasizing her fine bone structure and making her eyes seem even bigger than they were.

  It was time to put on her dress then, and with Mildred's help she slipped into Charlotte's keepsake wedding gown. Only slight alterations had been needed, and it fit her perfectly now, the long-sleeved, high-necked, white-satin-and-lace gown clinging to her every curve with demure sensuality. Rori stared at herself breathlessly in the full-length mirror as Mildred busily straightened the skirts.

  "It's beautiful . . ." Rori breathed.

  "Yes, you're beautiful," Mildred told her with a smile, admiring how the modest style complemented her.

  Charlotte knocked and came into the room, saying, "The guests are starting to arrive, Aurora, and . . ." Her gaze fell upon Rori, and she paused in wonder. "Darling, you are absolutely enchanting."

  "Thank you, Aunt Charlotte."

  Charlotte came to her and kissed her. "If you were my own daughter, I couldn't be more proud or happy for you. I have it from a reliable source that your intended is downstairs already and that he's anxiously awaiting your appearance."

  "Chance is here? He's waiting downstairs?" Rori repeated excitedly.

  "He certainly is, and looking quite handsome, too, I might add."

  A tingle of anticipation shot through her. Chance was here . . . Chance was waiting . . .

  "But before we get your veil and start downstairs, I have something for you."

  "You do?"

  Charlotte quickly stepped back out into the hallway and came back into the room carrying a good-sized dress box.

  "What is it?"

  "Open it and see," she encouraged her niece.

  Charlotte was smiling as she watched Rori tear the ribbon off the gift and part the tissue that was wrapped carefully around the garment within.

  "Oh . . ." Rori picked up the delicate gossamer white negligee with great care. "Oh, it's lovely. It's the most lovely nightgown I've ever seen." She lifted her wide-eyed gaze to her aunt's.

  "You like it?"

  "I love it!" Rori told her earnestly as she went to embrace her. "Thank you."

  "I thought you needed something special for tonight."

  "You've given me so much," Rori said in a choked, emotional voice. "How can I ever repay you and Uncle Joseph for all you've done for me?"

  "My darling, you've already repaid us, more than you'll ever know. You've brought love and laughter into our lives and given us so much happiness. We love you."

  "And I love you." Rori sniffed.

  "Now, now, don't you start. I'll have no crying brides at this wedding!" Charlotte scolded lovingly. "Are you ready to put on your veil?"

  "Is it time?"

  The faint sound of music drifted upstairs from the parlor below where the guests and Reverend Bailey were waiting with the anxious bridegroom.

  "It's time," Charlotte answered as she got the veil and helped Rori put it on. "You're lovely, darling. Every bride should be so stunning."

  "Do you think Chance will think so?"

  "Without a doubt," she promised, and they left the room on their way to meet Joseph at the top of the staircase.

  The furniture in the parlor had been rearranged to make room for everyone, and the profusion of fresh-cut flowers Charlotte had insisted upon for the occasion lent their delicate fragrance to the room. The Reverend Bailey stood with Chance before the intimate group of family and friends gathered there, waiting for the bride to make her entrance on the arm of her uncle. When the organist changed his tempo to announce her coming, Chance looked toward the door and saw his love.

  Chance's breath caught in his throat at the sight of Rori. She was exquisite. He stared in fascination at the dark-haired beauty walking toward him, vaguely remembering a young Indian boy who'd pulled a knife on him and cussed him out thoroughly.

  Rori's gaze was focused only on Chance. He looked so handsome, standing there before the minister, so tall and broad-shouldered, that her heart swelled with the love she felt for him. It seemed as if she was walking on air as she approached him on her uncle's arm. She could hardly believe that this was really happening. If this was a dream she was caught up in, then she never wanted it to end.

  Chance smiled down at her as Joseph stopped before him.

  "Who gives this woman in marriage?" the reverend asked.

  "I do," Joseph replied, and he handed her over into Chance's safekeeping and then stepped back to join Charlotte and Agatha.

  Chance and Rori exchanged special looks as the minister started the ceremony,

  "We are gathered here today to witness the joining in holy matrimony of Chancellor Mason Broderick and Aurora Prescott . . . " he intoned.

  Rori and Chance were held spellbound by his words, taking to heart everything the man of God said. They recited their vows with love and joy, pledging themselves to each other without question, and when Reverend Bailey instructed Chance to put the wedding ring on Rori's finger, he was ready.

  "With this ring, I thee wed," he repeated the minister's words slowly.

  Rori's hand was trembling as Chance slipped the slim gold band on her finger. She gazed up at him, filled with wonder at the beauty of their love.

  "By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. What God had joined together, let no man put asunder," Reverend Bailey declared. "You may kiss your bride, Mr. Broderick."

  Chance and Rori stared at each other in rapturous delight before he gathered her close and kissed her with sweet abandon.

  "I love you, Mrs. Broderick," he whispered as the embrace ended and they moved slightly apart.

  Rori's eyes misted with tears of happiness, and she couldn
't resist pulling him down to her for one more quick kiss before turning to greet their well-wishers. The day had been perfect except for Burr's absence, but Rori knew he had to be watching from heaven.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The wedding feast Agatha gave in Chance and Rori's honor was impressively elegant. Each course was a sumptuous gourmet's delight, but Chance and Rori paid little attention to the dishes placed before them. They were too caught up in rapturous wonder of their love for each other. Each time their gazes met, their pulses would quicken in anticipation of the night to come, and when their hands accidentally touched, the excitement was electrifying.

  It was only with a superhuman effort that Chance managed to control his desire for her. He wanted her desperately, but knew he could not sweep her up into his arms and carry her off like some knight of old during the middle of the wedding banquet.

  Rori, too, was feeling the strain. Being so close to Chance and not being able to touch him or kiss him was driving her wild. She wanted to escape the gathering of loving well-wishers. Rori wanted to throw herself into his arms and spend the night making passionate love to him. It had been so long since they'd been together, and she was on fire with the need to know the fullness of his possession once again.

  By the time the carriage was brought around to whisk them off to their honeymoon destination, it was dusk, and they were desperate for a moment alone. They were both more than ready, in fact, almost eager, to be spirited away.

  After changing to simpler garb to make the trip, they bid their families and friends good-bye and climbed into the waiting conveyance. As soon as they started to pull out of the driveway, Chance wasted no time in reaching for the shades.

  "What are you doing?" Rori asked in an amused tone as she settled back in her seat.

  "I'm arranging a little privacy for us, my love," Chance told her huskily as he drew down the last window covering. Enclosed in their own heavily shadowed haven, he dictated, lustily, "Come here, wife. I've waited as long as I can."

  Rori gave a light laugh as she moved easily into his arms. "You've restrained yourself admirably."

  "I thought so," Chance said smugly, quite pleased with himself, "considering I was ready to throw you over my shoulder and make a great escape at least a dozen times during dinner." He stared down at Rori in the dimness of the carriage, studying her loveliness. He knew that she held him in the palm of her hand and that he was hers forever. "God, you're beautiful," he declared as he kissed her.

  It was a sweet, adoring exchange, their lips touching lightly, tentatively. When it ended, Chance gave a slightly frustrated sigh. He had thought that he would be able to hold Rori, share a few kisses, and just enjoy her closeness on the trek to the cottage, but now he knew he'd been crazy to even consider it. She was like a fire in his blood, and just one taste of her was not enough.

  "It's going to be a very long drive to the beach house," he complained.

  "I kind of thought it was going to be a long, wonderful drive," Rori teased sensually as she ran one hand over his chest, toying with the buttons on his shirt, but not unfastening them. "I mean, we're all alone here in this fancy carriage . . ." She had been aching for his touch all day, and she didn't want to wait any longer.

  Chance gave a choked groan as he grabbed her hand to stop her. Her play sorely tempted his passions. It would take very little to encourage him to lay her down right there and make love to her in the confines of the carriage. He wanted their wedding night to be perfect, though, not just a quick, hurried joining on their way to the cottage.

  "Don't love," Chance ordered weakly.

  "Don't?" Rori lifted one eyebrow expressively in mock disbelief. "I don't take well to bein' ordered around, Broderick," she drawled, sounding like her old self. "You, of all people, should know that."

  "You promised to 'obey,' " he quickly pointed out with a grin.

  "So did you," she returned as she pressed herself against him and looped her arms around his neck.

  "I did, didn't I?" Chance pretended surprise, and as Rori kissed his throat, he gave up trying to control himself. "I suppose I'd better not break any of my vows . . ." He surrendered to her seductive ploys with gusto, capturing her mouth for an intoxicating exchange.

  Their lips met and parted as Chance pulled Rori across his lap. He wrapped his arms around her in a fiercely protective embrace as his mouth plundered hers. His tongue sought out her tongue in a love-duel, and she willingly met him in that intimate, erotic caress.

  "Oh, Chance . . . I love you," she whispered, gazing up at him adoringly when the kiss had ended.

  His expression was completely serious as he stared down at her in the semi-darkness. "There was a time there when I thought I'd never hear you say those words, love."

  "You'll never have to worry about that again. I'll tell you every minute of every day if you want me to," Rori offered giddily.

  "That means we'll just be talking all the time, doesn't it? I don't think I like that idea at all."

  "You don't?"

  "No. There are other things I'd rather be doing with you than talking . . ."

  "Oh? Such as?"

  "Such as showing you, instead of telling you," he answered, kissing her again, and this time there was no doubt about what he wanted and needed.

  Chance put all the love he was feeling into that embrace. What little restraint he'd managed to retain over his raging desire was lost when Rori matched him in his eagerness. Fiery passion exploded between them, and they strained together as they kissed and then kissed again, each exchange growing more and more heated.

  "Love me, Chance," Rori begged.

  Chance knew he could not deny her or himself any longer. With trembling hands Chance began to work at the buttons on her bodice. When they were undone, he parted the material and shifted her chemise aside, freeing her sensuous flesh to his questing touch. He caressed the pale, sensitive mounds with ardor, glorying in the way the crests tautened against his palms. Wanting to be nearer, needing more than just these maddeningly arousing caresses, Chance laid Rori back on the seat. Though it was cramped, neither seemed to notice as he began to press hot, devouring kisses to her breasts.

  Rori moaned in pure ecstasy at the touch of his mouth upon her bosom, and she held his head to her as she instinctively arched against the hardness of his male form. It felt so good to be in Chance's arms, so right. She had wanted this for so long, and now he was hers. With a lightly erotic touch, she returned his touch, restlessly exploring the broad width of his muscular shoulders before slipping her hands between them to unbutton his shirt.

  Chance drew slightly away to help her with the buttons. He wanted to feel her bared flesh on his, to know that exquisite intimacy. When he moved back over her, the heat of his hair-roughened chest seemed to sear her tender breasts, and she gasped at the sensation.

  "Oh, Rori . . . I want you. I want you now," he admitted feverishly.

  "Yes . . . oh, yes, Chance. Love me. Please love me," she urged, pulling him down for a flaming kiss.

  There was no stopping for either of them. With passionate abandon, Chance went to Rori, brushing aside the barrier of her skirts and undergarments. His hands were gentle as he readied her for him, and then, freeing himself from his pants, he moved between her thighs.

  They came together in a blaze of desire. The passion they had for each other that they had so long denied erupted quickly. Their loving was brief, but thrillingly intense. The ultimate fulfillment swept over them in a crescendo of ecstasy. Their breathing was labored as they rested in each other's arms.

  The carriage hit a bump in the road, and the tenuousness of their position finally occurred to them. They moved apart reluctantly, neither wanting the moment to end. After straightening their clothing, they clung together, sharing tender kisses and soft words of love and breathlessly anticipating their arrival at the cottage.

  The carriage finally turned up the drive and pulled to a halt before the small summer house on the rise that ove
rlooked the ocean. When the driver opened the door for them, Chance climbed out first, then turned to help Rori down. She started to step down to the ground and was startled when Chance picked her up.

  "Chance! What . . . "

  "Tradition, love. A bridegroom always carries his bride across the threshold on their wedding night," he explained.

  "But why?"

  "I have no idea, but anything that gets you into my arms is fine with me," Chance said with a wide grin.

  "Me, too," she agreed, nestling happily against the rock-solid strength of his chest.

  Chance strode purposefully up to the few steps to the door, and Dora, the maid his mother had sent on ahead to ready the small four-room cottage for their coming, was there waiting to open it for him.

  "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Broderick," she greeted them pleasantly.

  "Good evening, Dora." Chance returned her greeting and then kissed Rori soundly before setting her to her feet in the midst of the sitting room. "Has everything been taken care of?"

  "Yes, sir. Everything is just as your mother instructed. As soon as I unpack what you brought with you tonight, I'll be finished."

  "Thank you."

  Dora hurried off to see to her duties, directing the driver to take their trunks into the master bedroom while Chance pulled Rori back into his embrace.

  "In just a few more minutes, Mrs. Broderick," he said, punctuating his words with quick kisses, "we are going to be all alone."

  "I know," Rori replied in a sultry voice, "and I hope she hurries." Rori slipped her arms around Chance's lean waist and rested her head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart sent a soothing blanket of peaceful contentment through her. She closed her eyes savoring the moment. He loved her.

  Chance cradled Rori to him, cherishing the feel of her so soft and loving. He smiled tenderly as he wondered how they had ever come to this. Rori had hated him, pulled a knife on him, fought him at every turn, and now . . . now, he couldn't live without her.