by Jaci Burton
And now, this week, Rick had given her that opportunity again, and she had thrown it back at him and told him it wasn't at all what she wanted, because again, she'd been afraid. Afraid that it wouldn't be perfect, that it wouldn't meet her expectations, that she would fail, just like she'd failed him the first time, like she'd failed Kayla the first time.
Better to take no chance at all than fail at the chance you take, right?
But what if she and Rick tried, and it didn't work out? That would kill Kayla.
Wouldn't it?
She lay on the bed and dug the heels of her palms into her tear-swollen eyes. Oh, God, she couldn't think anymore. She had to talk to someone. She needed advice. Someone had to tell her what to do.
She stared at the phone. Connie. Kayla maybe? She'd really love to discuss this with her daughter, get Kayla to weigh in on this.
Then it hit her. No. Absolutely not. This was her life. Her choice. Her decision to make. No one else's. It was time to grow up, to stand on her own for once. She didn't have Rick to rely on anymore, and she sure as hell wasn't going to cry on her daughter's shoulder.
Only she could decide what path to take next. And from the way her heart twisted, it was clearly obvious how she felt about what she'd done. Her feelings for Rick went way beyond guilt at hurting him.
Great time to figure that one out, Lisa.
She'd screwed this up so badly. A week of romance, sex, spending time with a man she--
Loved. Yes, she was in love with Rick. She always had been, had never stopped loving him. She'd depended on him to be there for her, and as he'd said to her before he walked out, he had been. Every time she needed him, he'd been there. Not just for Kayla, but for her. And she'd used him, had never given anything back to him, but had only taken. Even this week, she'd taken, and instead of shouting out how she'd felt, she'd crawled back into her shell of fear and complacency and announced that she didn't want what he offered.
What a bitch she was. How could he love her? How could he care for her? She wasn't worth it.
Fresh tears sprung in her eyes, but she swiped them away, refusing to feel sorry for herself. Dwelling in misery wasn't going to accomplish anything. She'd spent the past fifteen years letting Rick take care of everything, take care of her. That was going to change. It was time she grew up and took charge of her life. It was time to make some decisions about her future. About their future.
She knew what she wanted now, even though she'd been an utter dumbass and the truth had hit her about an hour too late. But maybe it wasn't too late. She had an idea. A wonderful, impossible, romantic, scary-as-hell idea.
Their flight back to the United States wasn't for two days. Unless Rick was so pissed he decided to grab an earlier flight...
She picked up the phone and called the front desk, confirming her suspicions. He'd checked into another room, but he was still in the hotel. It figured Rick wouldn't just leave her there alone. Even as angry as he was, he would stay there to look out for her, would still be there at checkout time to fly back with her.
She so didn't deserve him. It would serve her right if he laughed in her face and walked out on her when she presented her plan to him.
She lay down on the bed, knowing she'd get nothing done the remainder of the night. She fell into a fitful sleep, waking nearly every hour, hoping Rick would walk through the door so she could apologize and tell him how wrong she'd been. When the sun rose and filtered through the bedroom balcony, she got up and called room service for a pot of coffee, eager to start on her plan. There wasn't much time and a lot to do. She was going to look ridiculous if Rick said no. She didn't care. After what she'd put him through, what she'd said to him, she deserved it if he turned around and walked out on her.
After breakfast and a shower, she dressed and went downstairs, making arrangements, hoping like hell she wouldn't run into Rick. Not yet anyway. She coaxed the front desk clerk into keeping tabs on him and letting her know if for some reason he checked out. She didn't think he would, but just in case he did, she'd have to know. Her plans would be ruined. Everything was going to take place tonight. The coordinators were wonderful considering she was throwing this all together at a moment's notice, but since it wasn't a weekend, everyone had openings. She found a dress that fit perfectly at the designer shop in the hotel, and it was all scheduled. She was giddy with excitement, nervous with anticipation, and also dreading facing Rick again. But she had to if this was going to work. She had a hair and makeup appointment in an hour. All she had to do now was write the invitation, have it sent to Rick's room, and hope he showed up. If not, she'd go to his room and beg him in person.
She had a lot of apologizing to do. And a lot to accomplish before eight o'clock tonight.
Rick stared out the balcony of his room, tired of pacing, tired of his own thoughts. He'd spent some time on the beach today--too long, walking a couple miles in one direction before taking a long swim, climbing out, and walking back. It had helped clear the cobwebs somewhat, but he had no more answers now than he did when he left the room earlier.
He still didn't know what to do about Lisa, how to convince her they did belong together.
He couldn't make her love him.
That was the worst part. He'd gotten this all wrong. Maybe his feelings were one sided, but he didn't think so. It was fear holding her back, not her feelings for him. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He'd done all he could. The rest was up to her.
At least he'd tried. This vacation was his attempt to get them alone so they could talk, get away from everyday life, and become a couple again. It had worked, too, for a while. But he knew it was just a matter of time before Lisa would start overthinking everything again. Why did he think he could change her? That's who she was, who she'd always be. He was either going to have to accept it, or walk away.
Which was what he'd done last night. Not a very smooth move on his part. Instead of staying with her and talking through her fears, he'd gotten pissed off and stormed out. Way to be mature, Rick.
Maybe they hadn't grown up enough yet. Either of them. Maybe they both needed to take a step back and really think things through.
Maybe Lisa was right.
He was pushing her. Too much too soon. His expectations had been too high. He was rushing her. After they got back home, they'd talk, take things slow. Lisa wasn't the type to rush into anything--he knew that about her. With time...
He turned at the knock at the door, frowning. No one knew he was here and he hadn't ordered room service. When he opened the door, a bellman stood there with a sealed envelope. Rick took it, tipped the man, and closed the door, staring at the handwriting on the envelope.
Lisa's. She'd found him. He arched a brow and slid his finger under the seal to open it, scanning her elegantly printed words:
Rick
Words can't express how wrong I was. How sorry I am.
Sometimes I have to lose something to realize how much it means to me. Maybe it's taken me fifteen years to understand, to realize what was right in front of me the entire time, and I was too blind to see it. You've been everything to me. Friend, lover, and husband. You were right. Paper means nothing. We have always been meant for each other, I just didn't see it. I do now and I don't ever want to lose you again.
Meet me on the terra cotta terrace, beachside, under the white canopy at eight p.m. tonight.
Wear your suit.
Marry me. I love you. I've always loved you.
Lisa
He read the message several times, unable to believe what it said.
She loved him.
Marry her? Here? Now? Tonight? Was that even doable? Was she insane? It was so impulsive, so not Lisa at all.
Jesus.
He dragged his hand through his hair, glanced down at his watch. It was six o'clock. He headed to the shower, cleaned up and dried off, then went to the closet for a suit, shirt, and tie.
He couldn't believe Lisa was doing this. So impulsive
. His lips curled.
Maybe she could change, after all.
He grabbed his clothes and started getting dressed. There were a few things he wanted to do before eight o'clock.
Lisa stood under the white canopy, gardenias spread all around, their sweet scent helping to relax the giant butterflies in her stomach.
What if Rick didn't show up? She'd be mortified, crushed.
And it would be no more than she deserved after the way she'd treated him last night.
The way she'd treated him for years, actually.
Her hands shook as the hotel's wedding coordinator handed her the bouquet of creamy roses.
"You look gorgeous," Amanda said, her bright pixie face lit up with a smile. For someone so young, Amanda was incredibly organized. She'd pulled this wedding together in one day, from minister to marriage license--and oh, the strings she'd had to pull to get that together--to the tent to music to probably more details than Lisa even knew about. Lisa owed her a debt of thanks. As well as the astronomical bill she was going to have to pay for everything, but she didn't care.
She turned, the cream silk shift she wore swirling around her knees. God, she loved this dress. It was actually her first official wedding dress. She and Rick had gotten married at the court house the first time. Lisa had been ill with morning sickness, had worn an old dress, and the entire event was a cloudy blur of nerves and nausea.
This one--if it actually happened--would be different.
Her hair was piled up on top of her head, loose ringlets cascading alongside her face and along her neck. She wore a pair of matching stiletto sandals that made her legs look long and sexy. The outfit was amazing.
Now all she needed was a groom.
When she spotted Rick coming around the corner of the building, her heart rammed against her chest. Tears welled in her eyes and she almost sank to the floor. Her legs were shaking as he stepped under the tent and took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles.
"I'd love to marry you, Lisa. I love you, too."
Just like that, she was forgiven.
"I don't deserve you," she whispered, fighting to keep the tears back.
He pressed his lips to hers. "We deserve each other. We deserve this."
She sniffed, smiled up at him, unable to believe how happy she was.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Kayla's not here. Your friends, our families."
She placed her fingers at his lips. "This is just about us, Rick. No one else needs to be here."
One side of his mouth curved upward. He nodded.
"Shall we begin?" the minister asked.
The ceremony was short, but achingly sweet. The minister was perfect, spoke to them about love and commitment, and how important it was to remember to value each other. Lisa cried and she was certain her makeup was a mess, but she didn't care. Rick surprised her with rings for both of them. He would think of that--she had forgotten. Matching platinum bands that were simple, but absolutely stunning. When the minister pronounced them husband and wife, Rick pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with a brief, dazzling kiss that left her breathless. The flash of a camera popped around her, they toasted with champagne, and then they were finished.
Married. Again.
This time, forever.
They spent a few moments talking with Amanda and the minister, the photographer took a few pictures, then they were off.
"I have dinner being delivered to our suite," Lisa said.
Rick held her hand as they walked through the lobby toward the elevator. "You do?"
She nodded. "And champagne."
"Great."
"And I bought something special to change into."
He arched a brow as they entered the elevator. "You already look pretty special. Beautiful, in fact."
Her cheeks warmed. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Wife."
Wife. They'd really gotten married. "We're married."
"Yeah. Kayla's going to be pissed."
The moved into their suite. "She'll get over it," Lisa said. "She'd want us to be happy."
"Yeah, she would." Rick pulled her into his arms. "Are you?"
She twined her fingers around his neck. "Am I what?"
"Happy. Are you sure this is what you wanted?"
"Yes. God, yes. I'm so sorry, Rick. About last night..."
He shook his head. "Don't. I overwhelmed you and I know it. I pressured you. I just hope I didn't push you into this."
She smiled. "You didn't. I've always wanted you. I guess I was just afraid that maybe Kayla was why we were together in the first place."
"I loved you way before Kayla ever entered the picture. And even more after. We both just needed to grow up."
"We both have."
He let out a sigh. "I should have asked you to marry me again long before now. I don't know what stopped me."
"Probably the same thing that stopped me. Fear of shattering the perfect arrangement."
"You're right. We made the divorce too comfortable."
"Our friendship was too easy."
"We put romance, sex--us--on the back burner."
She leaned into him, loving the feel of his body against hers. God, how she'd missed it, and how excited she was to realize she wasn't going to have to let him go. "Never again. We come first now. Always."
He untangled her arms from around his neck and led her out onto the balcony. As usual, the night was perfect. People walking below, music coming from somewhere, a soft breeze sailing upward, warm and filled with the fragrance of the island.
"I'm going to miss this place," she said.
"We can stay longer."
She turned to him. "I have to get back to work Monday."
"Call in. Tell them you're on your honeymoon. I'll bet they give you a few extra days."
Tempting. The old Lisa would come up with a hundred reasons why that was such a bad idea. The new Lisa already had a hundred reasons why she wanted to stay here. "I'll call tomorrow."
"So will I."
"After that we'll call Kayla together."
"We'll probably hear her squeal all the way from Europe without benefit of the telephone line."
She laughed. "You're right. She's going to be so excited. So will Connie."
"I have a lot to thank both of them for. They were instrumental in helping me with my plan to get you here."
"Then I'm the one who's thankful. To them, of course, but especially to you. If you hadn't made this happen, we might never--"
"But we did. And that's all that matters." He swept her into his arms, kissing her in a way that left no doubt as to how much he loved her.
Passion ignited and Lisa felt the immediacy, the need to consummate their marriage. She'd made plans for that. A silken, floor-length nightgown, rose petals strewn across their bed, champagne chilling next to the bed. A whole romantic, seductive scene that she no longer cared about, because all she wanted was Rick inside her, right now, right here. She had this silly need to "cement the deal." Immediately.
She tore at his suit jacket, pulling it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor. She kicked off her shoes while Rick toed his off. Their lips stayed glued together, their tongues doing a wild mating dance that left Lisa hot, feverish, and desperate with need. When he lifted her dress and slid his fingers between her legs, she cried out, not caring if anyone could hear them.
"Yes," she said, biting down on his shoulder as he drove two fingers into her pussy. "More."
"You're wet," he said, his voice tight. "You want me to fuck you out here?"
She loved when he went all harsh and all male on her. Her nipples tightened, her breasts swelling higher over the bodice of her dress. She leaned back and searched his face. "Yes. Fuck me here. Do it now."
He dragged her to the balcony edge, planting her hands on the cement. "Bend over," he commanded.
She did, and he lifted her dress, pulling her panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and spread her
legs, waiting for his cock. Needing his cock. Instead, she felt his tongue probing between her ass cheeks, flicking out to lick at her pussy lips. She tossed her head back and moaned as he licked her, lapping at the wetness there, driving her crazy by teasing her with his tongue and fingers, taking her so close to the edge she mumbled incoherently, unable to form the words to tell him what she needed.
But he knew. He slid his fingertips up to her clit and moved them in circles while fucking her pussy with his tongue. She shattered right there, digging her palms into the rough cement, lifting her ass against his mouth and hand while her nerve endings exploded against him.
She was still shuddering when Rick rose and unzipped his pants, put on a condom, and plunged his cock inside her. Hard, demanding, he fucked her with long, measured strokes, wrapping one arm around her waist and planting his lips along the nape of her neck. He licked her, even bit her, and her body caught fire. She raised the front of her dress and massaged her clit, wanting to come again with him.
"Do you think someone's watching us?" he asked. "Do you think maybe some guy is jacking off watching us fuck?"
"I don't...I don't know," she said, trying to catch her breath, visualizing someone hidden in the darkness on one of the balconies, his cock in his hand, stroking it fast and hard while he watched Rick fuck her.
"Your pussy is so wet, babe. Does that excite you, the thought of people watching us?"
"Yes," she said, whimpering as he surged into her, filling her, expanding inside her, and it was all she could take. "Rick. Rick, please."
"Tell me what you want."
She didn't know. She just wanted more. Her throat was raw from panting, her breath gone, so she backed up against him, pushing her pussy onto his cock.
"Oh yeah. I know what you need." He held her tighter, plunged deeper, and she strummed her clit with a fury, taking her right to the edge. Her pussy tightened, and with Rick's final hard thrust she went over, taking him with her. They both shouted their pleasure into the night. It was wild, sensual, a little bit crazy, and absolutely the hottest thing she'd ever done. Rick pulled out and turned her around, kissing her until she was dizzy with pleasure all over again. She palmed his chest and pushed back. "I can't breathe," she said, laughing.
"Wife dies from pleasure on wedding night. Story at eleven," he said, in mock news anchor horror.
She giggled. "I just might."
