Private Relations (20 page)

She yawned as she got into the room and spied the big bed. “That mattress is going to be heaven. I think I’ve been on my feet the entire day.”

Of course she had, and she’d worked herself ragged for him and his event. He was thinking of nothing but plunging into her willing body, and she was telling him she had sore feet. Time to show the lady that he was capable of putting her needs first.

He pulled the covers back and motioned for her to sit. She did. He pulled off her shoes, slowly, and then, even more fun, reached under her dress for the stockings. She hadn’t disappointed him. Knowing Kit’s obsession with detail, he’d assumed she’d wear old-fashioned stockings and a garter belt, keeping even her underwear authentic. She hadn’t let him down.

He unsnapped the stockings and let his thumbs trail the soft, warm skin of her inner thigh as he rolled each stocking down, hearing the slide of silk against her legs and feeling the silk of her skin.

He left her wiggling her feet against the crisp sheets and flopping back on the pillows while he dragged off his jacket and tie, and then reached for the massage oil.

“Oh,” she moaned, when he began to knead the soles of her feet. He dug his thumbs into the ridges of muscle, then rolled them gently into the tender skin of her
instep. He pulled her toes, massaging the oil between and into each toe.

Her soft sounds of encouragement kept him going. He finished the first foot and picked up the second and worked at that. Such hard-working feet. Such a hardworking woman.

He adored her.

When he’d worked every kink out of her feet and his hands were feeling the workout, he rose and said, “I want to rub oil all…” He didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Kit was fast asleep.

A wash of tenderness spilled over him as he looked down at her. Her face was vulnerable in sleep, and so very sweet.

He knew her well. Once she was asleep, not much woke her. He looked at the dress and decided it wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in. Not only that, it couldn’t be good for the dress and it looked expensive.

He went to the bathroom and washed the oil off his hands. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection and almost laughed. Talk about a big disappointment. He’d been looking forward to making love for hours.

Looked like he’d have to wait until the morning.

Back in the room, he thought, up or down? Which would get the dress off easiest and without disturbing Kit? He decided on up, and eased the dress up past her hips and waist. But no way could he get it off her without raising her shoulders. He slipped an arm behind her and lifted her torso.

She muttered something and turned her face into his shoulder. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I need to take your dress off, love.”

“Mmm.” Somehow he wrestled it off her, with her sleepy help, and then she snuggled back down. She wore a slip but no bra, so he figured that was good enough.

He took off his clothes, brushed his teeth and washed his face, then he returned to slip into bed beside her.

He leaned over to kiss her lips lightly. “I love you, Kit,” he said.

“Love you, too,” she murmured, so sleepy she whispered words she’d never normally say to him.

He’d wanted desperately for them to spend an entire night in the same bed and wake together, he’d wanted it so badly it had become something of an obsession, but he’d never planned that she’d sleep all night with him because she was so tired she’d passed out.

Tonight, he didn’t even care.

If she was willing to mumble her love to him when her defenses were down, that had to be good. Didn’t it?

She loved him. He knew it with every atom of his being. He had to be right.

He was betting his life on it.

“T
HAT REALLY WAS
a fabulous event last night, Kit. You made my company look good, you make me look good and we raised a few bucks to help refurbish a theater. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, thinking how good he looked over morning coffee and croissants, still slightly damp from their shared shower, wrapped snugly in a Hush robe.

When she’d woken this morning, first disoriented then embarrassed, he’d refused to let her rush home to her apartment. She’d broken her one unbreakable rule and slept over. She hadn’t planned to, but she had, and now she felt all the vulnerability of her position.

After shamelessly trading on his intimate knowledge of her to get her to change her mind, he’d made love to her until she didn’t even remember where she lived, much less have any desire to go there.

They’d finished in the shower where he’d made her cry out with the water pounding around them and his body thrusting deeply into hers. But then, while she was in the bathroom, he’d sneakily ordered a room-service breakfast.

“I should really get going,” she said.

“You haven’t finished your breakfast.”

“I know, but I’ve got a lot to do today and I’d die if
I bumped into your parents in the hotel while I was wearing last night’s dress.” She started to rise.

“But I want your advice.”

She blinked at him and sat down again. “About what?”

“I’m doing some event planning of my own,” he said, spreading ruby-colored raspberry jam on a croissant. She took a sip of coffee.

“Event planning?”

“Yes.”

“Peter, you can barely handle a dinner reservation.”

“I’m planning our wedding,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

She was so stunned she simply stared at him, not even realizing her coffee cup was halfway to her mouth until she felt the hot liquid splash onto her robe. She jerked herself back to attention.

“What did you say?”

“You told me that you would never again plan our wedding, which I perfectly understand. So I’m planning it.”

“Our wedding?” she asked in stunned shock.

“Yes. Will you marry me?” He gazed up and she saw such warmth there that she wanted to throw herself across the table and yell for joy. But she was older now and, she hoped, wiser.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me a second time.”

“Actually, I don’t think I asked you the first time.”

She winced. “I got a little carried away.”

“I know. I remember saying ‘I love you,’ and the next thing I was being measured for a tux.”

“You weren’t ready,” she said, feeling a lump form in her throat.

“I’ll never know if I was or not. I panicked and ran. But we’d have worked it out, Kit. We’d have been okay.”
He reached forward and took her hand. “I’ve done some stupid things in my life. Bought Enron shares right before the company tanked, went deep-sea diving with an instructor who was drunk and nearly got us all killed, but the absolutely worst thing I ever did in my life was run out on you.”

She nodded, feeling her eyes fill and not bothering to hide the fact that he’d hurt her. She was done with pretending to Peter.

“I’ve never stopped regretting it, not for one second. I thought I was only feeling guilty because I’d hurt you, but now I know I regretted letting you get away. I could never love another woman, because I still loved you. Always. I’ll only ever love you.”

“How do I know you won’t run again?”

“How do I know you won’t? It won’t be easy, it will be life. But life is a hell of a lot more worthwhile with you in it than it ever will be without you.”

She sniffed. “Where are we getting married?” He might think he could plan an event, but she already had a list going of things they’d need to do. The venue would need to be booked at least six months ahead for anything decent. Could she live with the worry for half a year? Wondering if he’d be there?

“The wedding’s going to be right here at Hush hotel,” he said.

“Hush?” she blinked at him.

“It seems like the perfect place to me. It’s where we came together again.” He winked at her. “In every sense of the term.”

But she was in no mood for double entendres. Her brow creased. “You want to get married at Hush?”

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

“When?”

“Today.”

The coffee cup would have fallen right out of her hands this time if he hadn’t had the dexterity to catch it and replace it on the saucer.

“You want me to get married today?”

“I don’t just want to, I’ve planned it.”

“But, but…people don’t just get married. What about the invitations? The groomsmen, the…the…”

“Boutonnieres?”

“Exactly.”

“What if we just got married?”

“I could hold on to you every second until the ceremony so you couldn’t run away.”

“Piper’s already offered to hold a gun on me until the ceremony.”

“Piper knows?”

“She’s your bridesmaid. Of course she knows.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really had done some advanced planning. Asking Piper to stand up for her. Wow. That had taken some guts on his part.

“She said she’d do it? Again?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. She didn’t even like the dress the first time.”

“She likes this one. She picked it out herself.”

“But what about my dress? I can’t get married in—” she glanced down at herself “—a Hush robe.”

“Piper’s got about six dresses and every single thing in that boutique for you to choose from. The hairdresser’s on call. The flowers are being done.” He grinned at her. “I’m even wearing a boutonniere.”

“I can’t believe it. I…Why are you doing all this?”

“Because I love you. I screwed up and I need to make it right.”

She sniffed again. “I can’t get married without my mom and dad. They’d be so hurt.”

“Of course they would. They checked in last night.”

Suddenly the obvious dawned on her. “And your parents are here, too.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe you are doing this.”

“We’re having the reception upstairs in the roof garden. May’s got something fancy planned with garlands or some damn thing. The minister’s performing the ceremony there, followed by dinner, cooked by Jacob Hill’s own hands.”

He was looking a little flustered, she realized.

“What if I say no?”

He glanced at her, and he’d never looked at her so tenderly. “Then I will be the one feeling like a prize ass with a whole wedding planned and no bride.” He reached out and grasped her hand. “It would be awful, humiliating and you would have the perfect revenge. I’m giving you that. Revenge on a silver platter, or marriage to me.”

“I can’t believe you planned an event.”

“I hope I didn’t forget anything. Let’s see. We’re staying right here at the hotel tonight.” He looked across at her and his eyes smoldered. “It feels like a great place for a honeymoon.”

“Can’t argue with your taste on that.”

“Giles suggested we use his place in Cape Cod for our honeymoon. Later, I thought we’d go to Europe or something. But for the next few weeks, I want you to myself. I don’t care where.”

“I would love to go to Cape Cod.”

“I know I forgot something,” he said, standing and prowling the room. Suddenly he turned. “Of course, what an ass.”

He put his hand in the pocket of his robe and pulled out a distinctive blue box. He opened it and then went down on one knee, looking slightly ridiculous in the robe, but not so ridiculous she didn’t love him for it.

A princess-cut diamond solitaire she and Piper had admired at Tiffany’s winked at her. “Will you marry me, Kit Prestcott?”

“If I don’t, can you take the ring back?” He’d broken her heart three years ago, she certainly wasn’t going to make a second wedding easy on the guy.

He didn’t look nearly as worried as he should, in her opinion. Maybe the way she was smiling through sudden tears had something to do with it.

“No, I can’t. It’s already engraved. See?” She squinted to read the tiny engraving. There was today’s date, their initials and the word
Always.

“Always?”

“That’s how long I’ll love you.”

“Oh, Peter. Me, too.”

“So, will you finally marry me?”

She gazed into his eyes and let him see all the love she’d denied feeling. “What color are the roses?”

“No roses. May’s doing something fancy. I left it to her, but I made her promise there’d be no roses.”

“You’re smarter than you look.”

“I’m in agony down here waiting for you to answer me.”

“I know. I’m enjoying the moment.”

He slid the ring on while she was busy trying to think of more ways to keep him waiting.

“Hey, I haven’t said yes yet.”

“I love you, Kit.”

“You already said that.”

“Do you love me?”

She launched herself at him, catching him off balance so they both fell to the floor. “I love you. And if you ever so much as think of leaving me again, I will hunt you down and shoot you.”

“Can I take that as a yes?”

She stretched her body over his and kissed him.

“Yes, Peter. I will marry you.”

“Today?”

She laughed at the sheer delight of not having to plan the most important event of her life. “Yes. Today.”