Married by midnight, p.7
Married by Midnight, page 7
He followed her gaze. “Down, boy. Think of it as a tribute to your female power. It doesn’t matter how tired I am. One glance at you, and whammo, I’m ready.”
“Do you want to—”
“No, no. We’ll take a rest. There’s more where that came from, and there’ll be more tomorrow, too. And the day after that. Here, let me rinse you.”
His clever hands, slick with foamy soap, caressed her expertly under the pounding water. Before she knew it, she was squirming around his hand, her hair clinging to her shoulders, soaked in the spray as she worked herself into a deliciously melting climax.
She was floating, weak in the knees, clinging to his shoulders as Wes rinsed off the soap. He toweled her off, still dripping, dragging the fluffy towel carefully all over every inch of her skin before he dried himself off.
“Sorry,” he said into her ears. “That was a crime of opportunity. You felt so good. Hot and pink and perfect. All that slippery soap. Too much for me.”
“I forgive you,” she told him.
“Hey, it just occurred to me that there’s a whole lot of tasty food on the buffet table, and the champagne’s still in the ice bucket. The food’s cold, but I don’t care.”
That idea sounded excellent, to the point of daring to put weight on her wobbly knees. They swathed themselves in the terrycloth robes the hotel had provided and made their way through drifts of rose petals and scattered clothing to the living area.
The food was even better the second time around. The icy cold champagne tasted like the elixir of the gods. Artichoke tarts, peppers rolled around creamy cheese, red olive paste spread on crusty bread, the tray of cheeses, the leftover manicotti...delicious. Her usually spotty appetite felt like a blast furnace. Between the two of them, they polished off most of the food, and nibbled on another piece of cake. So good.
Afterward, Ronnie opened the door to the veranda, and strolled out to lean on the railing, looking at the wild, clashing colors of Las Vegas.
Wes followed her and leaned on the railing beside her. She glanced around, taking note of the architectural design that protected them from the view of anyone else on the top floor of the hotel. Luckily. Considering what she had in mind.
“So,” he said, in a neutral, careful voice. “Do you feel as if the occasion of your wedding night has been marked appropriately? Has an adequate fuss been made?”
She gave him a teasing smile. “What do you think?”
“Not what I asked,” he countered. “I’m sticking with my original question.”
“Are you feeling insecure, Wes?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I’m human, and this is important. Tell me how you feel.”
She leaned against his shoulders. “I have never felt like this in my life,” she told him. “I didn’t know sex could be this good. But this is the thing.”
“What’s the thing?” he demanded.
“You’ve awakened some part of me that’s sexually insatiable,” she informed him. “Now, you have to deal with it. You’ll have your work cut out for you, satisfying my voracious appetites.”
He looked delighted. “How voracious are we talking? Just to get an idea.”
“Ravenous,” she said emphatically. “A panther on the prowl.”
“Awesome,” he said, as she jerked the sash of his robe loose. It fell open, and she closed her hand around him, enjoying the throb of his heartbeat against her palm.
“I know you think it’s more gentlemanly to let me rest,” she said. “But I don’t want you to be a gentleman right now.”
“I’ll be however you want me to be.”
She shrugged off her own robe. She felt so hot, the chilly breeze against her damp hair was intensely stimulating. She turned her back to him. Bending at the waist, arching her spine. Parting her legs. “So?” she prompted. “Fulfill me.”
“You got it,” he rasped, reaching for her.
Seven
Something tickled Wes’s nose as he floated up to full consciousness. Light, against his eyelids. With every breath, he felt a faint tickle.
He opened his eyes and saw rose petals fluttering as he exhaled.
He was alone in the bed.
He sat up quickly, looking around in irrational panic. Ronnie wasn’t in the bedroom. He didn’t hear movement in the front room. He didn’t hear water running in the shower. Just silence. Shit. She’d panicked. Bolted.
The intense depth of his disappointment startled him.
He slid out of bed, hesitating for just a moment before heading into the main room.
That night had been astonishing. White-hot. But he’d known she might panic and withdraw from that intensity. It was a classic move.
They barely knew each other, after all, and last night had laid them bare. He’d felt more known and seen by her than he’d ever felt. Dangerous secrets notwithstanding.
He kicked away bruised rose petals as he strode through the room. The candles had burned down over the course of the night. It was late morning. Evidence of their late-night feast was everywhere. His clothes were still scattered around the floor, but Ronnie’s shoes, pants, jacket, purse, all gone. His heart sank lower.
The towering flower arrangement and rose petals seemed to taunt him. She’d left the bridal bouquet behind, still in the vase that Kenji had selected for it, as well as the box that held her folded flower wreath and veil.
Evidently, she didn’t plan to conserve it as a keepsake. That hurt.
The bathroom door flew open. He spun around with a gasp.
Ronnie stood in the bathroom door, looking dewy and fresh, dressed in yesterday’s white suit. Her hair was brushed out, loose and wavy and gleaming.
She looked bright-eyed and rosy, considering how little sleep she’d gotten.
“Good morning,” she said. “You look startled. Were you expecting someone else?”
“I just thought...” His voice trailed off.
“Thought what?”
He shrugged self-consciously. “You were nowhere to be found, and I didn’t see your clothes or purse, so I thought...”
“That I panicked? After the most fabulous night of my whole life? Hah. You’d need a crowbar to pry me away.” She held up her purse. “I took my purse into the bathroom because it had my makeup wipes and brush and mascara and emergency lipstick. And I had to rescue my clothes from the floor and recycle them.”
“We could order you some clothes,” he suggested. “If you want fresh stuff. There’s a boutique in the hotel. More than one, I think.”
“What I want is to retrieve my suitcase from Jareth’s room. But I don’t want to engage with him right now.” She took her smartphone out of her purse and scrolled on the screen. “Yep, eight calls from him last night. Texts, too.”
“What does he want?”
“To know where the hell I am, and when I’m coming back,” she said.
“A) none of his goddamn business, and B) not in this lifetime,” he said.
“Exactly. But I will try to be classy, if I can,” she said.
“I bet you he’s not in the room,” Wes said. “He’s out prowling the hotel, hoping to run into you. He’s realized that he miscalculated, so he’s too agitated to sit in his room. He’s been awake all night, worrying about it. Now he’s trying to track down his errant heiress. He wants to herd her into the barn, where he thinks she belongs.”
She winced. “Ouch. I suspect that’s a pretty accurate assessment of his attitude.”
“Let’s go now,” he suggested. “I’ll knock, and if he answers, I’ll say I’m delivering the travel crib that he requested for his baby. If he doesn’t answer, just go in and grab your stuff. I’ll stand guard outside to make sure he doesn’t surprise you.”
She looked troubled. “Why do I feel like I’m stealing?”
“Because from his point of view, you are,” he said. “You’re taking back something that actually belongs to you. Something he thought he owned. Your life, your choices, your freedom. He’s liable to be ugly about it. By the way, who booked the room?”
“Me. It was my idea, and therefore, my expense. Jareth isn’t much for treating.”
He grunted in disapproval. “All the more reason to check him out of the room. Freeloading asshat.” He pulled on some jeans. “I’ll get dressed, and we’ll get your stuff.”
He tossed on a sweatshirt, shoved his feet into some shoes, and they were on their way. In the elevator, he took her hand. It was cold and clammy as they went up to the penthouse floor. He hated it that she felt nervous about running into that worthless tool. He wished he could take Jareth aside for a talk before she saw him. Give him a remedial lesson in manners. A pointed lesson.
She stopped by one of the doors in the hallway and pulled out the key card.
Wes knocked, waited a few moments, knocked again. Nothing. “You’re clear.”
Ronnie lifted her key card. The door flashed green. She went in and got to work, scooping stuff out of the closet and cramming it into a hanging bag and a large suitcase. She disappeared into a bathroom and came out with a beauty case and a bouquet of brushes and combs.
Then, the electronics. She coiled the cables, gathered up chargers, packed up her laptop and tablet and stowed them all in a large leather computer bag.
“All done?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the elevator.
“Almost,” she said. “I just need to leave...this.”
She took her wallet from her purse and extracted the diamond ring from the pocket where she had stowed it the night before. She tucked it into a black velvet ring box.
“I feel as if I should leave a note with it,” she said. “But anything I could write to him would either be scolding or insincere. Neither is particularly classy.”
“Silence is fine,” Wes said, loading up with her suitcase and garment bag. “He’ll hate that. Silence gets my vote.”
Her mouth twitched. “Agreed.” She set the box on the bed. “All done.”
They returned to his room with the bags. “It’s official now,” he said. “That chapter of your life is over. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She sank onto the couch, staring into space. “I am so glad that I didn’t marry him. Why couldn’t I see it? It would have been a miserable, suffocating disaster, and it would have ended in a horrible divorce. It’s so clear to me now.”
“I’m glad that you were spared all that,” he said. “We should celebrate.”
But Ronnie didn’t look quite ready for celebration yet. “It’s a good thing that I forced Jareth into a corner,” she mused. “It’s the only way I would have seen who he really was in time to bail.”
“You would have figured it out,” he said.
“But at what cost? I can’t believe how blind I was.”
The troubled look in her eyes was making him nervous. “Are you okay with how all this went?” he asked. “It’s a lot. All these massive changes, and then me, all up in your face, demanding your attention.”
“I’m fine with the changes,” she said. “I’m just...not sure what happens now. My whole life, I’ve had a clear path in front of me. First it was getting good grades in school, then doing well at university, then at grad school, and then getting the fellowships, the grants, etc. Then the research and development job at MossTech. Then it was the show, which absolutely consumed me for the last few years. I haven’t stopped to breathe since it all began. I had a mission, and suddenly it’s gone. There’s no path anymore, and it feels...strange.”
“You’ll find a new path,” Wes said. “You’re not the type who can stay pathless for long. And your mission hasn’t changed. The mission chooses your path for you.”
“You’re probably right, but I still feel lost.”
“I have a suggestion,” he said. “It might seem suspiciously self-interested but hear me out. The perfect time for soul-searching is when you’re pathless. It gives you an ironclad excuse to do things you otherwise would never let yourself do. Fun, frivolous things. Run away with me. I stole that guy’s bride, and his wedding, so why not go three for three, and steal his honeymoon, too?” He paused, studying her face. “You were going on a honeymoon, weren’t you?”
“No,” she admitted. “Jareth had to be in LA by tomorrow, for some meeting or other. There was just no time for it.”
“I see,” he murmured. “Well, lucky me. I have the time for a honeymoon.”
“Really?” she said. “Aren’t you a hotshot venture capitalist with your fingers in scores of pies? I would have expected a guy like you to be constantly on the go.”
“Oh, I hustle plenty,” he assured her. “But I had already planned some downtime for myself, as it happens. I had some business meetings to take care of here in Vegas earlier this week, then I hung around to see your keynote address. After that, I was going to do something fun. Maybe climbing in the Rockies, maybe go to Amalfi, to get the renovations for the villa started. Or Greece. I love Greece. I have a yacht docked in Argostoli. I could take you sailing. We’ll hug the coast of Kefalonia, sleep on the boat, stop at all the hidden coves and beaches, skinny-dip in bright blue water, eat fried fish and moussaka and red olives and tzatziki and gyro flatbread, and wash it all down with cold, crisp Robola white. My local favorite. You’ll love it.”
She looked impressed. “Sounds wonderful. You go all-out, don’t you?”
“Why hold back? Life is short. But take your time. What are your dream destinations? Anything your heart desires. What setting would make Veronica Moss relax enough to start dreaming up what’s next on her path? That’s the question. And whether the answer is snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef, or climbing Machu Picchu, or floating under the Bridge of Sighs in a gondola in Venice, or trekking in Nepal, I am up for it.”
She looked intrigued. She had no clue how passionately willing he was to follow through on this. Showing Veronica Moss a good time sounded like the most fun he’d ever had in his life. He’d go to any lengths to persuade her.
“Sounds decadent,” she murmured.
“Oh, it is,” he told her. “Your people warned you that I was a hedonist, right?”
“They did,” she said. “And you proved it last night. Beyond a doubt.”
“I could prove it again right now,” he offered. “I could keep proving it all day. Or all week. Indefinitely. I am so inspired.”
“Sounds like great fun,” she said. “But first, coffee.”
He brewed her a fresh pot while she called the front desk and checked out of the room that she’d shared with Jareth. After that, she accepted the cup of French roast, and gave him a thoughtful, assessing look. “You’ve finished your business in Vegas?”
“That is correct.”
“So have I. Vegas has served its purpose for me. I’m no gambler.”
“You gambled on me,” he pointed out.
“Good point,” she murmured. “Time to cash in my winnings, then.”
That look of sensual speculation in her eyes made hunger surge inside him. “I like the sound of that,” he said. “Say the word.”
“Come with me to Seattle. If you want to,” Ronnie offered. “I’m not quite ready to leave the country with you yet, but I’d enjoy the process of being persuaded. In the meantime, we can have some honeymoon fun in the Pacific Northwest. It’s as beautiful as any other vacation destination. Let me check some flight times.”
“Don’t worry about flight times,” he told her. “I’ll fly you to Seattle.”
“Fly me?” she said, startled. “You have your own plane? Here?”
“My pilot is standing by. Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you there.”
“Impressive,” she murmured. “Okay. First stop, Seattle.”
“That’s where your family is based?”
“Yes. I’ve been back and forth to LA for the last few years, and I rented a nice apartment there, but I kept my condo in Seattle, even though Jareth tried to persuade me to sell it. I like having my own space when I’m in town. All of us Mosses were born and bred in Seattle. MossTech is there, so my dad lives there, my aunt, and my cousins. Though technically they’re my first cousins once removed. My father was ten years younger than my uncle Bertram, and my mother was fifteen years younger than my dad, which makes for some confusing generational mixing. But all my cousins are older than me, Maddie by a couple of months. They feel more like siblings. We’re very close. They’re wonderful people. You’ll like them.”
“Will I meet them when we get to Seattle?” He held his breath for her reply.
“Maybe Maddie and her husband, Jack,” she mused. “The boys are both traveling right now. Everyone is extremely busy, but Jack and Maddie are more available than the others, mostly since they can’t seem to stop honeymooning. They’re both between jobs, too, so they’re taking their time and living it up.”
“Sounds like fun,” he remarked. “We should try it.”
That earned him a luminous smile. “Right now they’re spending a lot of time up in Cleland, this gorgeous little town in the Olympic rainforest. Jack just bought a beautiful house in the forest that I love. Minimalist cubes of glass, in the woods, in a cathedral of mossy trees, right on a river canyon with waterfalls. And when they’re not there, they’re at the beach house my aunt Elaine gave them as a wedding present.”
“Living the dream,” he said approvingly. “What about your male cousins?”
“They’re in Southeast Asia right now. Tilda and her little girl, Annika, had to go to a friend’s wedding in Jakarta, so Caleb decided to go along. Marcus is on one of his trips to Indonesia, and his brand-new wife, Eve, is off at some genetics think tank with her team, working on taking Corzo, her grain project, to the next level. And my dad’s in London, thank God. Everyone is scattered to the four winds. The only family member that I’m sure that I can introduce you to is my aunt Elaine.”
