Champagne Romance (Romance Novel) (16 page)

Slater didn’t hesitate a moment before he
said, “I’d like to have you here with me. Would Maria be able to
take care of Quinn for a few days if I flew back on Monday and
picked you up?”

Swan knew what he was asking. She hesitated a
moment before Slater pressed the issue.

“
I need you.”

That was her undoing and he knew it---the
snake! Before she realized it, she was saying “yes” and it was a
“done deal”.

After hanging up the phone Swan began to pace
the floor wondering what kind of a trap she was falling into and if
it were a smart idea to join Slater in Malibu. Since she had
committed and was always one to face the inevitable; she sucked it
up and began to make arrangements for her departure whether it was
an intelligent decision or not.

Swan packed a bag of casual clothing for the
trip to Malibu. It was only after a short hesitation, she also
threw in a pale peach satin negligee as well just in case she got
gutsy enough to wear it.

When the limo picked Swan up at 9:00 sharp
the next morning, Swan was ready in a sleeveless, mid-calf jean
dress with cutouts in the top part of the bodice and red leather
boots with fancy tooling on the sides. Slinging a denim jacket over
her arm and grabbing her small overnight bag, she flew out the door
and scooted into the backseat of the luxury vehicle.

The chauffer zoomed to the John Wayne Airport
in twenty minutes where Slater was impatiently waiting and
wondering if Swan were going to show. Relief was not evident on his
stoic face as he grabbed her arm and they headed for the small
private plane hangar.

They didn’t have a lot of time before
takeoff. So, Swan was stuffed immediately into the front seat of a
twin-engine piper. Fifteen minutes later, the plane were bouncing
down the runway and then into the wild blue yonder. Slater glanced
over at Swan. He realized that she hadn’t said a word and that she
had the ol’ white-knuckle clutch on each arm of the chair. Her face
was ghostly white and she looked like she could barf at any moment.
He’d bet his last nickel that she probably hadn’t flown since the
plane crash almost four years ago. He just hoped he had a paper bag
in one of the plane’s compartments. As luck would have it, he did.
He handed it to Swan and tried to distract her by pointing out
various landmarks. It didn’t work.

They landed on the private runway at the
Malibu ranch an hour later without incident. Except for Swan’s face
that matched the lime green moss on the rocks below, the flight was
smooth and uneventful.

The Malibu amethyst mountains had taken on a
slight mauve haze. They were dotted with colorful fall vegetation
that seemed to be giving their last bloom before cooler weather
arrived. It was that scenic evening setting that greeted them.

Driving the twin engine plane into a small
hanger that was close to the ranch house, Slater turned off the
motor. He immediately slipped his hand under the denim jacket that
Swan was wearing and began to rub her shoulders. It was a few
minutes before the tenseness left and she was able to focus on
getting out of the plane. Slater put his arm around her shoulders
and helped a wobbly Swan depart the plane before scooping her up in
his arms and walking to his hacienda a few yards away.

Laying Swan down on the leather couch, Slater
gave her a glass of cold water and put a cloth on her forehead. It
wasn’t long before she was sitting up and feeling normal again.

Swan began to look around and absorb her
surroundings. She was in the main room of the old Spanish casa. It
was a lavish and yet primitive room decorated in authentic
Southwestern culture. It was a mixture of old and new with a unique
and impressive private collection of art. It was as though she were
experiencing the flavor of the seventeenth century while being in
the twenty-first.

Slater was the perfect touch to the hacienda
as he strode from the hearth room eluding power even wearing dusty
boots, a western shirt, and jeans. It was his kingdom. He belonged
here, just as the other great cattle barons did of long ago.

When Swan was no longer seeing cross-eyed,
she stood and began to stroll about the adobe ranch. Slater had
disappeared with Swan’s bag and was in the process of putting it in
the master bedroom---if Swan objected, too bad. He had high
expectations for the week and she might as well know it!

Seeing that Swan had recuperated, Slater gave
her a quick look at the unique old home in which her overnight bag
planted in Slater’s bedroom was not lost on Swan. He rushed the
tour a little as he was anxious to depart to Jake’s ranch a few
miles away. All too soon, Slater was helping Swan gather up her
purse and slip into her jean jacket. They immediately jumped in the
Durango and headed for “The Big Double J”.

Juanita greeted them both warmly with lots of
hugs and led them into Jake’s bedroom. He looked pretty peaked, but
much better than he did at the hospital yesterday. After visiting a
while, they rose to leave. Slater hadn’t planned to spend the
evening at Jake’s house as he had other activities on his mind, but
Juanita insisted that they stay for supper. She was making his
favorite dish of chicken, mash potatoes, gravy, and corn topped off
with the promised peach pie. In spite of other plans, it did not
take much urging for him to remain.

The sun was setting by the time they climbed
back in the Durango and pointed the headlights in Slater’s ranch
direction. The evening was getting cooler and the animals of the
night were beginning to stir. The white stalk of flowers waving two
feet in the air from the middle of the yucca plants took on a pinky
hue. Deer had mixed-in with the cattle in the valley below helping
themselves to a free meal. A coyote slunk behind a tree as the jeep
jostled past. He seemed to have his eye on a rabbit dinner as they
darted in and out among the brush. Snakes slithered around the
boulders and birds were looking for a place to roost for the night.
The hacienda soon appeared over the hill.

Having parked the jeep in the nearby garage,
they headed for the old, but modern casa. Securing the outside
perimeter with a sophisticated alarm system, Slater began to build
a fire in the inner courtyard fireplace on the Mexican tile patio.
Pouring a glass of wine for each of them, they sipped the Chianti
under the twinkling stars as the fountain with a spotlight on it
gushed nearby. Soft romantic music from a central sound system
played in the background and floated through the air.

Slater put his arm around Swan and tried to
gage her mood. So far, she was giving no clues. He decided that it
was time to help the situation along. Moving in for some smooching,
he took away her wine glass and tilled her head upward. He meant to
take it easy, but he was a starving man in spite of Juanita’s yummy
meal. Good intentions didn’t last long. He thought that he was
receiving all the right signals, but when he maneuvered her into
the bedroom and began to unzip her dress, she bulked. She turned
around to face him putting some distance between them.

“
Oh, hell,” he thought, “he knew fast
moves made her jumpy. When would he ever learn?!”

Then, she did an amazing thing as he watched
totally mesmerized. She slowly pulled down one sleeve and then the
other of her jean dress before letting it float softly to the
floor. Slater’s mouth went dry. She stood before him in scarlet
panties, bra, and cowboy boots. She looked like a calendar girl out
of one of Vargas’s creations. “Miss Firecracker” would have been
her title he decided. He stood motionless taking in this fantasy
picture. She leaned over giving him a fabulous view of her bosom,
shook out her hair, put one hand on her hip, looked him directly in
the eye and said, “Your turn.”

That was all it took to galvanize Slater into
action. His jeans, shirt, boots, and boxers were off in a flash and
thrown in a heap on the floor. He walked proudly toward Swan,
scooped her up, placed her on his bed, and their lovemaking
began--finally.

Slater woke with the early morning sounds of
birds chirping outside the window and cattle mooing in the
distance. Swan lay snuggle next to Slater, her arm slung over his
chest and her thumb so close to her lips that he thought of Quinn.
He hadn’t used any birth control last night. He wondered if she
had---not that it mattered. He missed the first pregnancy and he
was anxious to watch her grow with his second child. He wondered
how she felt about having his child again. The idea of Swan
swelling with a little brother or sister for Quinn was
exhilarating. He smiled thinking of the night before and the soft
mewing sounds that Swan made during their lovemaking. He knew he
was an accomplished lover, but she made him feel extra ordinary as
they climaxed together each time in the rhythm of life.

Slater watched the rise and fall of Swan’s
breasts. He knew that he would be satisfied with this woman for the
rest of his life. It was imperative that she felt the same. He had
no doubt that he could convince her if she did not. He would not be
letting her leave the ranch without some sort of a verbal agreement
that marriage was eminent.

Swan woke to the smell of coffee under her
nose. She opened her turquoise eyes to be greeted with Slater’s
light blues. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. She was purring a
little herself. She sat up as her tasseled hair fell over her
shoulders and the sheet bunched around her breasts. Slater found
himself reaching out to remove the strawberry locks from her smooth
white shoulder hoping to expose a little more boob to his view. He
held the coffee slightly out of her reach so that the sheet had to
slip a little farther down when she reached for it. He was rewarded
with a peek. He was hard pressed not to jump her again. He squashed
the urge only because she looked too contented with her cup of
coffee to be interrupted. His good intentions, however, didn’t last
long. After Swan had finished her first cup, temptation was too
strong and Slater joined her beneath the sheets.

After another round of lovemaking, they
dressed and headed for the kitchen to prepare a little breakfast.
By this time they were both absolutely famished. Swan made pancakes
while Slater fried the sausage. Having satisfied their physical
hunger for food and each other temporarily, they headed over to
Juanita and Jake’s.

Juanita came out on the porch when she heard
the Durango drive up. She had a dishtowel in her hand as though she
were in the middle of drying dishes. The smile on her face told
them she was glad to see them and that Jake was healing nicely.

Their home had a rap-a-round porch that
provided lots of shade for when Juanita and Jake sat on the porch
swing in the evenings. It was a comfortable two-story house with
three bedrooms. The decorating was simple and homey. The master
bedroom was on the main level, which certainly came in handy for
Jake and Juanita as he recuperated. After greeting and hugging
Juanita, Slater and Swan walked through the front doorway of their
modest home. Jake could be heard hollering all the way down the
hall. Juanita smiled and said, “I think he’s getting much better.”
Indeed he was as he started shouting orders as soon as they entered
the bedroom.

Juanita was not oblivious to the feelings
that appeared to be jumping around between the two lovers. She had
waited a long time for Slater to bring a special woman around and
she was more than willing to help it along. While they had been
visiting with Jake, she had been packing a picnic lunch. By the
time that they appeared in the doorway and ready to leave, so was
the basket of picnic goodies. Slater was delighted even though he
had had other plans back at his casa. He also knew that lovemaking
with a picnic near a trout stream could be just as satisfying and
he knew the exact spot.

Leaving “The Big Double J”, the Durango
ascended a short incline and then plunged into a wooded area. They
bounced along before they came upon a bubbly brook with trout
swimming in and among the smooth pebble rocks.

The brook had clear cold water that descended
from the mountains above the tributary. It was translucent enough
to be entertained watching fish, turtles, and other little
creature’s dash down the mountain stream. Having helped Slater roll
out the plaid blanket that he kept in the back seat of his Durango,
Swan proceeded to take off her boots, roll up her jeans, and wade
in the ice-cold water herself. Slater watched as this little hot
mama of his child squealed and laughed in amusement when a fish
tickled her extremities.

It wasn’t long before Swan’s feet turned pink
and a little numb with cold. She was soon out of the water and back
pleading for Slater to warm them up. He was more than happy to
accommodate if it meant touching her. Warming Swan’s feet up a bit,
Slater was more than anxious to get their picnic out of the way so
that they could move on to the other things he had in mind.

Slater dove into the basket that Juanita had
prepared and pulled out a bottle of red wine. She had even
remembered to stick in an opener and wine glasses. Occupying Swan
with a full glass, he rummaged around to see what else Juanita had
packed for consumption--cold roast beef sandwiches with home grown
tomatoes on homemade rolls, potato salad, chips, baked beans, and
chocolate cookies---yum! It wasn’t long before he and Swan had
pretty much demolished the meal.

Pouring Swan another glass of wine, Slater
leaned against a tree and pulled Swan between his legs. They sipped
their wine and enjoyed their companionable silence as the brook
babbled nearby and a hawk swirled lazily above them. While Slater
sipped wine with one hand, his other hand began to wonder over
Swan’s perky breasts. Shortly after that, the buttons of her shirt
were undone and his hand had slipped inside. After the first tiny
moan, the shirt was off and Swan lay half naked in Slater’s arms.
He couldn’t get enough of the sight of her naked breasts and her
laying across his lap giving him total access to anything he chose
to do to them.