WHITELAW'S WEDDING

by Beverly Barton

  "Hunter?"

  He gazed down into her blue eyes and saw both longing and uncertainty. And in that one moment he knew that whatever happened between them tonight, and the following nights while they were secluded in this mountain cottage, would be Manda's decision. He was prepared to protect her, to make sure there were no unwanted consequences so that when their marriage ended, they could go their separate ways with no regrets. For him, there could be no regrets. What man would ever regret being Manda's lover? Her first lover, an inner voice reminded him. But could an emotionally fragile woman like Manda, with a romantic heart, give herself completely to a man who would be only a temporary fixture in her life?

  "It's all right." Hunter kissed her forehead, then released her and walked away, but paused in the doorway. "I'll get our luggage off the porch.

  She smiled. "Good idea. I'd like to get out of this suit. And I'd love a bath."

  "Why don't you go ahead and get started on that bath," he suggested. "I can bring your overnight case in to you, if you'd like."

  "I can wait. But while you're bringing in our things, I'll check out the bathroom and start my bathwater."

  "Sure."

  The minute Hunter disappeared into the living room, Manda opened the door to the bathroom that obviously had been added to the cottage by taking off several feet from each bedroom and enclosing it with bead board. Another kerosene lamp had been placed on the back of the commode. The bathroom fixtures—the commode and sink—were old, dating back a good fifty years. The tub was a true antique, a large brass container with no faucets.

  Oh, great. How did you take a bath without water in the tub? It would have to be taken from the sink in a bucket and dumped into the tub. Then she remembered that there was no electricity. But surely there was a gas cookstove and a gas water heater, right? She turned on the sink faucets. Cold water came out of both. Damn! What was she supposed to do, take a cold bath?

  "Here's your luggage, madam," Hunter called from the bedroom.

  "There's no hot water," Manda said. "And this tub is ancient. Looks like we'll be taking cold sponge baths while we're here."

  Hunter came into the bathroom, glanced around and grinned. "This place is pretty rustic, isn't it? Sorry, if you're disappointed. But we can heat some water in the kitchen and fill the tub."

  "Have you checked out the kitchen?" she asked. "If there's no gas water heater, then there's probably no gas stove and there's no electricity, so how do you propose to heat water?"

  "I don't know. Maybe there's a wood-burning stove."

  "Maybe I'll skip a bath tonight and just sponge off."

  "I'll take a look at the kitchen and give you a little privacy."

  "Thanks."

  A stack of towels and washcloths rested on a wall shelf in the corner. When Manda lifted the top cloth, a piece of paper fell off the cloth and drifted to the floor. Manda reached down to pick it up, all the while her heart beat erratically. Had her crazed admirer somehow found out where they were and had left a note? That's impossible! Stop this unreasonable thinking, she warned herself. She picked up the note and read it.

  You can heat water for the tub on the woodstove in kitchen. Or you can bathe in the creek if the weather's warm. There's a path in front of the house that leads to the creek and the waterfall. But if it's too cool for that, try the hot spring. Go out the kitchen door and follow that path straight to the spring.

  A hot spring? Wouldn't that be something like soaking in a hot tub, only one that was nature made? she thought.

  Manda rushed out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She immediately noticed that Hunter had placed her luggage on the floor, but his bag was missing. Did that mean he had put his things in the other bedroom? Had all his teasing about waiting for their wedding night to make love been just that—teasing?

  She hurried into the living room and ran smack-dab into Hunter.

  "The stove is wood-burning," he said. "But there's plenty of wood in the kitchen and it wouldn't take long to get a fire started, so if—"

  "There's a hot spring behind the house," Manda said. "I found a note from Elizabeth."

  "Honey, it's dark out there. Maybe in the morning we can find it."

  "Tonight would be better," she told him. "This has been a nerve-racking day and I'm exhausted. I'd love to soak in some nice hot water and try to relax. Is that too much to ask?"

  "I always knew you were a high-maintenance lady."

  "Is that a yes?"

  "Why not?"

  She threw her arms around his neck and squealed with delight. "You're so good to me."

  "Yeah, and you'd better not forget it."

  * * *

  Hunter had insisted on checking out the hot spring first. He'd taken a kerosene lantern with him to light the way. When he returned she'd already undressed, pinned up her hair and put on her white robe.

  "Give me a second to get out of this suit," Hunter said, then disappeared into the other bedroom.

  When he came out to join her, he was wearing his matching white robe. "Ready?" he asked.

  "More than ready."

  "You carry the towels and I'll carry the lantern."

  The night was pitch-black, except for a quarter moon and distant twinkling stars. The light from the lantern illuminated a stepping-stone path that led through the woods and into a small clearing. Manda gasped the moment she saw the hot spring. A dozen kerosene lanterns circled the small spring-fed pond, bubbling with warm mineral water. A large silver tray sat on a huge rock that was the size of a tabletop and almost as smooth. A bottle of red wine and two glasses graced the center of the tray.

  "How did you … when did—?"

  "When I spoke to Elizabeth on the phone several days ago, she told me about the hot spring, so I asked if she'd leave you a note in the bathroom and prepare this place for tonight."

  Manda socked Hunter's arm playfully. "You beast! This is so lovely." Tears gathered in her eyes and glistened on her eyelashes.

  Hunter kissed away the tears. "I hope those are tears of happiness."

  "They are. It's just that these past twenty-four hours have been hell and I really didn't know what to expect on this honeymoon," she admitted, then dropped the towels she carried onto the flat rock.

  "Expect to get whatever your heart desires," Hunter told her.

  Her heart stopped beating for a split second when she gazed up at him and once again thought she saw the look of love in his eyes. Was it simply her own foolish imagination? Perhaps so, but whether it was love she saw in his eyes or simply lust, one thing was clear—Hunter Whitelaw wanted her.

  "Who goes first?" he asked.

  "You."

  "All right."

  Without the least bit of modesty, he shucked off his robe, tossed it on the flat rock and stood before her gloriously nude. The very sight of him took away her breath. He was devastating. A prime male specimen. Big. Perfectly formed. Unabashedly aroused. He stepped down and into the hot spring, the lower half of his body slowly disappearing beneath the gurgling water. He moved around in the small pond, sank his body into the depths, up to his chin, then rose to stand on the shallow bottom. The churning water hit him at the waist.

  "Coming in?" he asked, as he offered her his hand.

  Manda hesitated, wondering if she'd been reckless in doing as he'd done by wearing nothing under her robe. The moment of doubt faded quickly and with a courage born of desire, she untied the belt and leisurely removed the robe, letting it circle her feet. She stepped out of the fabric puddle and stood at the edge of the pond. Hunter let out a long, low whistle, then extended his hand to help her into the burbling pool. She took his hand and held it to steady herself as she walked into the hot spring and straight into Hunter's arms. The water was warm, almost hot, but with the cool nighttime breeze caressing her face and shoulders, the spring's heat felt heavenly. But the crush of her body against Hunter's created the real heat.

  "Do you like it?" he asked.

  She lifted her arms a
nd draped them around his shoulders, interlocking her fingers behind his neck. "I like it all. The hot spring. The lanterns. The wine. But most of all, I like being here with you."

  "Good. My aim is to please you. Tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night."

  "Then let's not think about what's waiting for us when we leave here at the end of the week. Let's live only for the moment. For right now. Tonight."

  He spanned her waist with his hands, then lifted her just enough to bring her face into alignment with his. When he kissed her, he cupped her buttocks, bouncing her upward until she spread apart her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips. His sex pulsated against her, the feel of him sending a tingling awareness from the core of her femininity throughout her body.

  Cocooned in their private heated lagoon, she gave herself over to Hunter's ravishing kiss. He showed her how truly intimate a mating of mouths and tongues can be. Each moment enticed her. Aroused her. Pleasured her and yet left her wanting more. So much more.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  « ^ »

  Manda surrendered to her heart's desire and to her body's needs. Even if this glorious freedom to give and take, to share the intimate joys of lovemaking was no more than stolen moments from her life, she didn't care. No matter what next week or next month or next year brought, she would always have these days to remember. And even if someday she married again and found the happiness that Elizabeth Landry predicted, she would never forget Hunter. He would be a part of her forever. And she would love him to her dying day.

  They kissed and laughed and played in the pond fed by the hot spring, their time together a mixture of fun and teasing and seduction. They sipped the wine, each from their own glass and then with arms twined, from each other's crystal flute. But with each passing minute, the sexual yearnings within them grew stronger and the frolicking became sensually bolder. Deep, tongue-thrusting kisses. Love bites. Hands and fingers and tongues exploring above and below the water level. Bodies entwined, rubbing, undulating, advancing and retreating.

  Hunter rose from the pond, rivulets of water dripping from his big body, droplets clinging to his hair, glistening on his broad chest and long legs. He picked up his robe and slipped into it, then lifted her robe and held it open. As she emerged from the hot spring, the cool night air chilled her. She slid her arms into the robe and Hunter quickly wrapped it around her. When he swung her off her feet and into his arms, she laughed, enjoying the feeling of being abducted, of being stolen away by a man intent upon claiming her for his own. She clung to him as he lifted one of the lanterns to light their way. Within minutes, he kicked open the back door and carried her through the cottage kitchen and into the living room, setting the lantern on the hearth as he passed by.

  "Your first time should be in a soft, warm bed covered with rose petals," Hunter said as he carried her into their room and laid her sideways atop the cream sheets. "I promise I will make this first time good for you. And then, I'll do my best to make the times that come after even better."

  The pleasure of his promise filled her, heating her within and without. When he spread the robe apart, she lifted up just enough so that he could remove it. Then he withdrew a condom from his pocket before quickly taking off the matching robe. He stood over her, looking at her, visually caressing her so powerfully that she could feel his touch. Her nipples puckered and peaked. Her femininity clenched and unclenched. Tingling sensation flooded her body with hot moisture. She watched while he removed the condom from its wrappings and then eased it into place over his erection.

  As he put his knees on the bed, on either side of her thighs, his big hands came down to her face and his fingers traced the outline of her facial bones, as if he were trying to memorize their structure. He gazed at her with adoration and longing, then lowered his head and kissed her. A feather-light brush of lips. She opened her mouth on an indrawn sigh, expecting his invasion, but instead he showered her face and neck with kisses, then moved over her shoulders, down her arms and upward across her belly until he reached the underside of her breasts. When she tried to touch him, he grabbed first one hand and then the other and lifted them over her head.

  "You can touch me later," he told her, his voice ragged with desire. "Right now, just concentrate on feeling and sensing and enjoying the pleasure I want to give you."

  She simply smiled at him, then closed her eyes, loving the idea of being pleasured by Hunter Whitelaw. He kissed and licked and caressed her body. Her arms. Her legs. Her neck, shoulders, back, belly and buttocks. Arousing her to the point of pleading frustration. Her breasts ached. Her nipples tightened painfully. The feminine folds of her body gushed with moisture and her core throbbed. But he avoided touching her nipples or stroking her intimately and the longer he made her wait, the more desperate she became.

  When he had her primed and ready, he flicked his tongue over one nipple and then the other, eliciting a cry of arousal from her lips. She reached up for him, unable to keep her hands off him any longer.

  "Please, Hunter. Please."

  "Please, what?"

  "Please, make love to me."

  "That's what I've been doing," he said, his voice a rasped whisper.

  She touched him, surrounded his sex and pumped him gently. "I want you inside me."

  "You know it's going to hurt," he said, a strained expression on his face, as if the thought of inflicting even a minute amount of pain was intolerable.

  "I'm already hurting and only you can take away that pain."

  He cupped her buttocks, lifting her as he sank down, bringing their bodies together. His sex probed and found what it sought, then eased inside slowly. She shuddered, longing, spiraling out of control within her. And then with one forceful lunge, he took her, thrusting deep, imbedding himself completely. She cried out as searing pain burned throughout her femininity and her body stretched to accommodate his size.

  He kissed her. Wild and hot. Devouring her mouth as he began to move inside her, retreating and then advancing, repeating the process until her pain lessened and finally vanished. While he made love to her, she felt totally possessed, as if with each hard, urgent lunge he claimed her as his own, branding her with his mark. Her body tightened around him, holding him, milking him. She felt the stirrings of completion and knew she was on the verge of fulfillment.

  Suddenly Hunter tensed, then stopped and took several deep breaths. She moved against him, urging him to action. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His face was wet with perspiration, his eyes hooded, his jaw clenched.

  "Hunter?"

  "I'm losing it fast. I've got to take a minute."

  "I don't need a minute." She moved against him, showing him that the time was now.

  "Oh, Manda…"

  He pumped into her with frantic need. Within seconds she climaxed. An earth-shattering completion that shook her to the core. Shards of pleasure exploded inside her and just as she shivered uncontrollably, Hunter roared like the beast he had become at that primal moment.

  As the aftershocks of their lovemaking fluttered through her, Manda sighed contentedly and curled up against Hunter when he eased off her and onto his back. He lay there for several minutes, breathing hard, his heart thumping loudly. Manda inched her fingers across his chest to play in his damp, curling hair. He captured her hand, brought it to his mouth, turned it palm up and planted a hot, wet kiss in the center.

  She wanted to confess her love, to shout it from the rooftops, to tell Hunter that he was the love of her life, the man she had been born for, but she remained silent. Anything she said might jeopardize this indescribable bliss. She was happier than she'd ever been. And she wanted to hold on to that happiness and make it last as long as possible. For tonight and tomorrow and the rest of the week.

  "I knew it would be good," Hunter said. "I just never thought it would be that good."

  Manda smiled when he caressed her naked hip. She had known that being Hunter's lover would surpass anything that came before or
afterward. "Being with you was everything that I dreamed it would be."

  "It's not always that powerful, you know. Sometimes it's lazy and easy and sweet. And sometimes it's wild and crazy and so hot you think you'll burn up alive."

  "I want to experience everything." She lifted herself up so that she could gaze down into his face. "With you."

  He clutched the back of her neck. She trembled.

  "Give me a little time to recuperate and we'll see what happens the second time around." He met her lips in a languid kiss that lasted a good long while. "Now, lay down and be a good girl. Get some rest because later on I'm going to wear you out."

  "I'm looking forward to that."

  Her last thought was how satisfied and content she felt lying in Hunter's arms. And how safe.

  * * *

  Seconds became minutes and minutes hours and time began to blur into one long, continuous pleasure. They made love, then slept. They made love, then soaked in the hot spring. They made love, then fed each other fruit and berries and fresh-baked bread left on their doorstep by their hosts. They made love and swam in the creek, beneath the waterfall. And with each mating, the bond of possession grew stronger until Manda thought of Hunter as her husband, her mate for life. And she suspected that he was beginning to think of her in the same way. Sunday passed. Monday came and went in a sensual haze. When Tuesday brought thunderstorms, they stayed indoors all day, leaving their bed only when absolutely necessary.

  At twilight they stood together on the porch, his arms holding her close, and watched the sunset. At dawn they woke to the birth of a new day and the renewed passion that had only hours earlier been temporarily satisfied.