Safari Moon (19 page)

Besides, for a few short days or weeks she
got to think of Solo as her husband, something she’d always wished
for. He was the most handsome man on this earth, even more gorgeous
than usual in his black tux, and she could pretend the marriage was
forever.

She moved closer to her new husband,
relishing the thought that he belonged to her and she to him. When
his hand encircled her waist, she blushed but leaned into him
anyway. It was acceptable, this behavior of hers. Shouldn’t a bride
cling to her husband unashamedly? Shouldn’t she?

Of course she should.

The next thing Nyssa knew, Sarah was
proclaiming, “Time to cut the cake.”

Solo led her to the table, his hand on the
small of her back.

Sarah had gone to so much trouble for them.
The cake was perfect, just what she would have picked out. Two
engraved champagne glasses and a silver knife sat next to the
confection.

She wasn’t sure what to do next. About the
time she decided Solo wouldn’t help her out, he took her hand in
his and guided it to the knife. The warmth and the promise in his
touch made her insides melt almost as much as his kiss. He paused
while he stared at her with a little surprise and a great deal of
wonder. She looked right back, gazed at him as if there was no
tomorrow. To her surprise, she felt a tremor run through his hand
into her. Obviously he was as unnerved by this whole thing as she
was.

But she didn’t care. She smiled happily at
her friends and new relatives before she cut the first slice. When
the cake was on the plate, she giggled nervously.

Somewhere in the background she could hear
Sarah offer encouragement. So she broke off a piece of wedding cake
and fed it to her groom. The touch of his lips against her fingers
sent warm little pools of desire through her. And when she looked
up, she saw his eyes on hers, hot and hungry.

“My turn.”

His voice was sexy and low and the vibration
of it ran down her spine. He grinned mischievously. His fingers,
laden with cake, rested on her lips. This time she didn’t feel
little pools of warmth. What she felt was a burning heat sweep
through her, and he didn’t just feed her the piece of cake. He
outlined her lips with a smear of icing on his fingertip.

Nyssa’s knees buckled. She couldn’t help
herself. She grabbed for the closest support she could find, Solo,
her husband. Her hands rested against his chest, fingers twined
nervously into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. Smudges of icing
stood out against the black, but all she could think of was
maintaining her balance and catching her breath.

“You all right?” He bent down close to her
ear.

The warmth of his voice sent shock waves of
desire down her back. His lips brushed her earlobe. “Yes,” she
managed breathlessly.

“Champagne?”

“All right,” she stood on her own,
recovering slightly and managed a quick sip of bubbly liquid. She
was more than a little embarrassed, but when she looked out on the
faces in front of her, they all beamed. Except her brother.

Her brother’s scowl frightened her. Jon
stared directly at Solo and if looks could kill, Solo was a dead
man. But then Jon turned his attention to her and he smiled, the
disapproval vanishing so quickly Nyssa wasn’t at all sure she saw
clearly.

Solo handed her another glass. The bubbles
hit her nose when she sipped and the alcohol went straight to her
head. She relaxed then drank the rest of the champagne.

Before she could protest, Solo refilled the
glass and led her away from the table to mingle.

So she melted into the strength of Solo’s
attention; ate and drank whatever he offered her and every time she
set her glass down, Solo was beside her, refilling it.

She hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty
she was. She hadn’t realized the numbing effect so much alcohol
would have on her, and how good she felt to be rid of all the
tension she’d been under the last few days.

A few hours later, everyone prepared to
leave and wished the happy couple a pleasurable night,
tongue-in-cheek of course. Michael and David, the worst of the lot,
each departed with a lewd, bodacious remark about Solo’s sexual
prowess. All the jokes were greeted with laughter and cheers from
her girl friends, and Sarah blushed much to her embarrassment while
her gaze shifted to the Colonel. Solo’s grandparents prepared to
leave too, with Jon not far behind.

Everyone had real lives to get back to, jobs
that had been put on hold in order to celebrate a wedding. The
supposedly happy couple walked the guests to the cars which were
parked back on the road, not the turn off because the truck
bringing all the supplies to the cabin occupied the drive.

Solo held an umbrella over Nyssa’s head.
They dodged mud puddles that were all ready there and the new ones
that sprung to life when they stepped on the soft ground.

She didn’t realize she’d had too much to
drink until the path they walked on swayed more than she did, and
she couldn’t seem to put her thoughts into words. “Thank you,”
Nyssa said with great effort before she wilted back against Solo’s
chest which felt too good to ignore.

Behind her, Solo held her securely around
the waist. She hoped she wouldn’t make too big a fool of herself,
but if she acted outrageously none of the guests noticed. Or maybe
they were just as tipsy as she was.

“Well, Solo, this was great,” Michael told
him and offered Solo his hand.

Jon put in his own thoughts, “Treat her
right Solo or you’ll answer to me. Don’t take her for granted,
she’s special.”

David, grinning from one ear to the other,
grabbed Nyssa and gave her a long, hot kiss. Solo scowled at his
friend. His hand went possessively to her shoulder then Solo hauled
her back into his protection. “No one, absolutely no one, not even
one of my friends will ever kiss her like that again.”

Jon looked at her and nodded approvingly.
“I’m glad you see her in a different light, Solo. I’d hate to think
that I’d have to fly north again and teach you how to be a good
husband.”

Waves of genuine embarrassment swept through
her at Jon’s words. He made the vows into something they weren’t
and never would be, a real marriage and life forever with this man.
It surprised her Solo didn’t retaliate with some snappy remark.

“Jon, please,” she said, and wished Jon
would leave.

To Jon, Solo said. “Don’t worry about me,
Harrington. I’m not going to hurt her.”

“See that you don’t.”

The look of approval vanished from Jon’s
gaze the minute he and Solo tossed out threats. But Jon did leave
and as the last car vanished out of sight, Nyssa wondered what
would happen next.

Solo didn’t give her time to think. He
slipped her hand inside his and walked back to the cabin. After
they went inside and the door closed behind them, he pulled her
into his arms and humming a tune, he began to dance with her.

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing with my bride,” he said his lips
close to her ear. “Isn’t that okay?”

She nodded and held on tight while she tried
to follow along, but mostly she floated on a cloud of champagne and
confusion. She didn’t think most people danced like this--with the
bride groom humming, but she didn’t want to stop. She was, after
all, in Solo’s arms. This was a place where she felt at home even
though the seconds were ticking by. She let her herself imagine
romantic fantasies with this man while she closed her eyes and
danced with him.

They were alone again but now everything was
different. She rested her head on Solo’s shoulder, felt his hand on
her back. His presence so close to her, left her warm and secure.
She wanted to snuggle in close to him and when she did, she could
feel his heart beat, steady and strong.

He kissed her forehead and each cheek, his
lips brushing against her skin. Then he swept her into his arms to
carry her back to her bedroom. “Oh, my,” she said. “It’s just like
in my dreams.”

“Your dreams?” He bent his head closer,
whispering sweet enticing words next to her ear.

“Yes,” she said.

“And?”

He sounded indulgent but she couldn’t help
herself, she giggled. “My fantasy turned out backwards. I rescued
you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“From your job applicants. Well, my story
doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.” She sobered up real fast now that
they were in the bedroom. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. One
night alone with Solo, one night where they might be husband and
wife.

“What doesn’t matter?” he said in a rough,
strange voice.

She remembered when he used
that tone a couple of times before, just before she lost all
control of herself. He set her down but she didn’t want to let go.
With her arms still around his neck, she pulled him with her. They
tumbled together onto the bed and she realized she wanted
everything he would give her in this short term marriage of
convenience.
Damn the
consequences
.

His full weight was on her for only a second
but she loved the feel of him. Her hands rested on his shoulders
and shamelessly explored him.

“Oh my.” She moved a shaky finger along his
neck then upward ever closer to his lips.

“Oh my, what?” He slowly pushed away.

She didn’t like the empty feeling that swept
through her when he left. “Come back.”

He looked tempted but through the haze she
reeled in she wasn’t sure.

“You don’t know what you want.”

“Nonsense.”

“Nyssa, you’re tired. It’s been a long day.
And I think I gave you too much champagne.”

She grinned at him and hoped he felt as good
as she did. She felt so free and wild--and sexy too. That was a new
feeling for her and she liked the sensation. “Kiss me.”

“I won’t do anything you’ll regret in the
morning,” he said. He sat back down on the bed.

She felt the soft touch of his fingers
against her cheekbones and across her lips. He looked wistful and
maybe a little confused. He inhaled a long, slow deep breath while
he looked away. When he turned his attention back to her, he
appeared very determined and a rush of panic swept through her.

He meant to leave her.

“Wait.” She sat up so fast she dumped him on
the floor. When she peered over the side of the bed and saw him
sprawled there, she giggled. “You don’t want to sleep like that do
you?”

“I’ll lock up the cabin and clean up a
little. Now hush, I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?”

He touched her nose with a fingertip. It
made her feel like a petulant child begging for attention.

“Don’t go away,” he said softly.

“Where on earth would I go?” Nyssa let her
gaze linger on the closed door long after he walked through it.

He wouldn’t return. She knew it. He knew it.
She adjusted the full white skirt of her gown and tossed herself on
the bed.

***

Solo left with every good intention and
reminded himself he must leave her alone. He knew the last place he
should go was back to the bedroom. Yet she drew him,
magnet-like.

Hands stuffed in the pockets of his tuxedo
pants, he stood just off the porch of the cabin. The wind blew from
the north, slightly cold, but tolerable. A wolf howled, one of his
perhaps, and then he could hear only the breeze blowing through the
eaves.

Everything from his wedding, all reminders
that it had taken place were gone. The streamers, the bells, the
food.

If he looked in on Nyssa, her white gown
would proclaim that a wedding had indeed taken place, but he didn’t
feel different.

Ripping at his tie with one hand, Solo
walked farther from the cabin. He dangled the tie from his
fingertips as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt with his
other hand.

When he closed his eyes, he could see her as
she walked out of the house. A wildflower bouquet in one hand, an
uncertain smile on her face, her steps hesitant. He knew she had
reservations about the wedding. Hell, so did he.

And now Nyssa lay in his bedroom in his bed,
slightly intoxicated, yet she waited for him. There was nothing
he’d rather do than go to her and make her his.

He didn’t want to be a gentleman. He didn’t
want to be honorable or noble. But he had given her his word and
she was engaged to another man. Good old Robert.

If he walked back in that room, he’d want to
make her more comfortable. A good excuse, he thought lamely. He
wanted to know what was under the wedding dress.

Another excuse, she shouldn’t wear that
dress in bed and he’d bet she’d fallen asleep before she could take
it off. So, spoken as a true gentleman, he should go help her with
the gown and all those little white buttons that ran down her
back.

But if he went in there, his good intentions
and all the resolve in the world wouldn’t stop him from at least
one kiss. And if he kissed her--he couldn’t do that, his respect
for her went deeper than that.