Resolved To. Carole Buck
so intensely to a young woman with whom, by most objective standards, he seemed to have very little in common.
He’d replayed over and over again that first, heady moment when his eyes had connected with Lucy’s, attempting to make sense of his instantaneous hunger for her. While Chris was no stranger to physical passion, he’d never before encountered a female who could make his mouth go dry and his palms start to sweat simply by looking at him. He’d eventually abandoned his quest for a rational explanation of what had happened, deciding that he’d probably have better luck trapping a lightning bolt between his hands during a thunderstorm.
The woman with whom he’d tumbled so precipitately in love was neither classically beautiful nor all-American cute. Her brows were too strongly marked, her jawline was too stubbornly angled and her gaze was too direct to qualify her for inclusion the latter category. As for the former—well, her nose missed being aristocratic by several significant millimeters, while her lush-lipped mouth was a degree or so off plumb and bracketed by dimples.
The thing was, Chris hadn’t registered a single one of these flaws—if flaws they were—the first time he saw his future wife. Nor had he stopped to question why, after years of squiring lithesome blue-eyed blond debutantes, he’d suddenly found himself bewitched by a voluptuous brunette cashier at a pizzeria.
It had been her smile that initially snagged his attention. He’d seen her flash it at a slick-looking character in sunglasses and felt a strange stab to the heart. A surge of possessiveness had swept through him. He’d wanted that frank, feisty and oh-so-feminine expression directed at him—not some other guy.
After her smile, he’d focused on her skin. He’d longed to touch it. To taste it. To discover whether it carried the flavor, as well as the look, of sweet cream and sun-ripened apricots.
Her hair had compelled his senses, too. He’d yearned to free it from its haphazard ponytail and run his fingers through the long espresso-colored strands. To bury his face in the glossy tumble and breathe in its dusky fragrance.
As for the issue of when he’d noticed her breasts and exactly what he’d felt the urge to do with them—
“Mmm...” Lucy leaned back against the supportive circle of her new husband’s arms, her loosened tresses shifting against her shoulder blades. She was hazily aware that she was ahead—or was it actually behind?—in the disrobing process. While she was down to a pair of pale silk stockings and a few fragile of pieces of lace-trimmed lingerie, Chris was still fully clad from the waist down.
“Mmm, indeed,” he concurred, his normally cool eyes sparking emerald green and topaz gold from beneath partially lowered lids. Their expression was very focused. Almost fierce. His hands drifted down her back, curving seductively against her bottom. The warmth of his palms penetrated the fine fabric of her panties, kindling a melting heat between her thighs.
A tremor of uniquely feminine anticipation skittered through Lucy’s nervous system. She shifted her hips, conscious of the thrusting rise of Chris’s masculinity. She watched his nostrils flare on an abrupt exhalation of breath. A rush of color darkened the skin over his cheekbones. A thrilling sense of power—familiar in some ways, but far too new to be taken for granted—suffused her.
Although she hadn’t reached age twenty-one untouched or ignorant about the facts of life, Christopher Dodson Banks was the only lover she’d ever had. They’d begun sleeping together two months after their first date. In some ways, she’d been more of the aggressor on that initial occasion than he.
Which was not to imply that he’d been passive. Indeed not. Although reticent about public displays of physical affection, Chris was-intensely passionate in private. Making love with him was... well, it was a far cry from the whambam-in-the-back-seat encounters she’d heard about in the girls’ rest room! He was inventive. Uninhibited. And unwaveringly intent on ensuring that what was good for him was even better for her.
“You’re kidding me, Luce,” her maid-of-honor-to-be, Tina Roberts, had said one night about six weeks ago. They’d been sharing confidences and cannolis after a long day of shopping for her trousseau. Tina, who’d gone all the way and then some her freshman year of high school, was the only one of Lucy’s girlfriends who knew she’d been a virgin until Chris. Tina had also had a fair amount to say on the subject of how dangerous it could be for a girl to fall in love with the guy to whom she gave her physical innocence. “Without being asked?”
Lucy had fiddled with her pastry, wondering whether she’d been too forthcoming. “He said he enjoyed it because I...enjoy...it.”
“He wasn’t just trying to get you to—”
“No, Teen.” The answer had been quick and unequivocal. It hadn’t mattered that her companion was immensely more experienced than she. She’d felt very, very sure of her answer. “Chris isn’t like that.”
Tina had tapped her flashily manicured nails on the edge of the table at which they were sitting, an oddly wistful look flitting across her face. Finally she’d heaved a long-drawn out sigh and observed, “I guess that old line about still waters running deep is true, huh? I mean, I’m not blind to your fiancé’s appeal, hon. He’s cute. He’s classy. And even though I’ve never seen him do anything more than hold your hand, I can tell he’s crazy for you. Still. I never would have pegged him as a tiger in the sack.”
Lucy rose on tiptoe, brushing her mouth against Chris’s. Their lips caught and clung, the caress escalating from airy to erotic in the space of a few increasingly frantic heartbeats.
“I love you, Chris,” she whispered fervently. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Lucy,” he answered, then bent and lifted her. She locked her arms around his neck and kissed the side of his throat. She could feel the wild jump of his pulse. The faintly salty tang of his skin seeped onto her tongue.
He carried her into the suite’s elegantly furnished bedroom. Lucy glanced around wonderingly, absorbing a myriad of sensual details.
Flowers blossomed luxuriously out of a variety of vases. Roses, mostly. Brilliantly scarlet. Blush pink. Ivory pale. Her favorite copper-coral, too. There were arrangements of exotic-looking orchids and fragrant freesia, as well.
An iced bottle of champagne was nestled in a silver bucket that had been placed on a nightstand to the right of the bed. Two slender long-stemmed glasses sat next to the bucket. Lucy’s vision blurred for a moment as she realized that the glasses were engraved. The letters L and C had been etched into the bubble-thin crystal, their curving lines intertwined like lovers.
“Oh, Ch-Chris...”
“Happy honeymoon, Lucy,” the man she’d married said as she faltered on the verge of sentimental tears. “And happy New Year, as well.”
The king-size bed’s coverlet and blankets had been neatly turned back, revealing an inviting expanse of snowy-white linen. Bracing one knee against the edge of the mattress, Chris placed her down on the cool, crisp sheets. He then stroked his fingers though her hair, fanning it out against the pillowcase.
His movements were slow. Deliberate. Precise. As though he had all the time in the world at his command and intended to utilize every single second of it.
Lucy gazed up at her husband, mesmerized by his concentration and control. Lifting her left hand, she placed it gently against his right cheek. A gold band glinted on her ring finger, along with a flawless square-cut diamond, the precious symbol of the pledges she’d made less than seven hours ago in accordance with the word of God and the statutes of the state of Illinois.
Straightening, Chris kicked off his shoes. Then he stretched out on the bed and took her into his arms. She molded herself against him, tilting her face upward, wanting to feel his mouth on hers once again.
Their lips met. Fused. Their tongues teased and tantalized. The taste of him merged with the taste of her and became the honeyed essence of mutual desire.
Lucy moaned softly, moved sinuously. Experience had taught her some of the things that excited the