Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) (2 page)

She turned to face Dex, not willing to give
up teasing him just yet. “Now. I’m not saying you have to wear tights, only
that I thought it would be nice for everyone to come in medieval dress.”

He placed his hat on the nearby fence post.
“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“You’re being dense on purpose. You can
pick an historical figure like Robin Hood, or what about Richard the Lionheart
or—”

“Honeysuckle Summers.” He spoke firmly as
he caught her hands in his and linked their fingers. He moved closer, the hot
look in his eyes making her shiver. “I couldn’t care less what the guests are
wearing at our wedding. But when I get married to the girl of my dreams, I’m
going to be wearing a suit—and I’m talking about a smart, expensive, tailored
one, not a clown’s suit, not a suit of armour, and certainly not my birthday
suit.” Tightening his fingers on hers, he lifted her hands and pinned them to
the wall above her head. “Okay?”

Her heart hammered at the thought of him
naked. The way his gaze raked her didn’t help her calm down either. “Gosh,
you’re wilful today,” she observed, breathless.

“And you’re incredibly sexy.”

“Don’t think you can get around me by…
hmph
…”

He smothered her protest with his lips, and
Honey gave in and closed her eyes.

Honey went limp as Dex kissed her
languidly, his lips moving across hers with tantalising slowness. She sighed as
he brushed his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to him,
her heart increasing its pace as it usually did whenever he kissed her like
this. The subtle scent of his aftershave—mixed with the aroma of warm muffins
and coffee—arose from his skin, and his five o’clock shadow rasped against her
cheek, but she didn’t complain. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway—when he got in
this sort of mood, protesting rarely had any effect, even if she’d wanted him
to stop. Which she didn’t.

He released her hands, and she wrapped her
arms around his neck and slid her fingers into his ruffled hair. She glowed
inside as he pressed himself up against her, his desire for her rapidly
becoming evident. Dexter Concannon was kissing
her.
He wanted to marry
her. The novelty still hadn’t worn off. She might boss him around and act as if
she’d expected all along to marry the sexiest cop in the whole of New Zealand,
but deep down every time she felt the physical evidence of his passion it made
her want to giggle like a six year old.

And now his hands were wandering, pulling
her hips against him, moving up to cup her breast beneath the white apron. She
shivered in response, and her fingers tightened in his hair. Her nipple peaked
as he brushed his thumb over it, and she groaned, satisfied when he gave an
answering murmur of pleasure.

He moved his hips against hers, and she
couldn’t help but arch against him. She ached with need. What was it going to
feel like when they lay naked together, his young, strong body pressed against
hers? She’d trail her fingers down his back, investigate the toned muscles, rake
her nails through the hairs on his chest. She already knew he’d be good in
bed—he couldn’t be anything but, with his sexy smile and gentle yet commanding
police officer manner. She was pretty sure he’d be able to talk her into an
orgasm with that deep voice and the hot look in his eyes.

But still, she couldn’t quite imagine what
it was going to feel like to finally sleep with him, to have his weight
pressing her into the bed, him sliding inside her…

Jeez, any more thoughts like that and she
was going to come there and then, under the bougainvillea. She tore her mouth
away, tipped her head back on the wall and closed her eyes. “Oh God, I never
thought it would be this hard.”

He chuckled. “That’s not a complaint I
expected.” He kissed her neck and touched his tongue to her pulse point.

She pushed him away. “Stop it. Seriously.
Not while you’re wearing the uniform. I can’t cope.”

He smirked. “I’m bringing it on the
honeymoon.”

“I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead, his
lips lingering on her skin. “Only one more week, sweetheart. We can last that
long.”

She put her arms around him, and he hugged
her. Emotion washed over her again. She was so lucky to have found him. Every
day she thanked heaven she’d been serving on the morning he’d come in for
coffee. She’d made his latte while he waited, and her cheeks had glowed when,
every time she looked up, she saw him watching her, a slight smile on his face.

She’d placed two chocolate fishes on top of
the takeaway cup and passed it across to him, heart thumping.

“Two fish?” He raised an eyebrow. “I only
got one last week from your dark-haired friend over there.”

“We’re all sisters,” she said, “and that’s
inflation for you. Next week you get a three course meal and a ticket to
The
Hobbit
.”

He’d started laughing and put his hat back
on, and that was it—she was won.

He’d stayed long enough to ask her out for
a drink, and within six weeks they were engaged. That was nearly five months
ago. A long time to wait to get him into bed.

She bit her lip, the familiar doubt
fluttering in her stomach like butterflies. She didn’t voice her concerns
often, but for once—maybe because she missed her mother and was feeling
emotional, maybe because there was only a week to go and she was starting to
panic—she needed reassurance. “Do you still think we did the right thing,
waiting?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Of course.” Cupping
her face with a hand, he brushed her cheek with his thumb. “What’s up,
sweetheart? We’ve lasted six months—why would you think now it’s been a
mistake? Is this to do with your mum?”

Her throat tightened, but she shook her
head. “No. It’s just…six months is a long time for a man to wait. I hope…” She
swallowed. “I hope you think I was worth it.”

Pity crossed his face, and he kissed her
hair. “Is this about Ian?”

The coldness that always slid down inside
her like an ice cube whenever she thought about her ex made her shiver.

Dex pulled back to look at her and stroked
her hair. “Come on, we talked about this. He only has power over you if you
give it to him.”

“I know, but…” Nausea rose at the thought of
Ian’s hard, dark gaze fixed on her as he prepared to impart some criticism. “I
didn’t realise, but I’d started to forget the way he made me feel. That
constant worry—as if something heavy sat on my chest. Feeling nervous and
insecure all the time. It makes my skin crawl. I can’t believe I dated him for
so long.”

 She dropped her gaze to look at her hands.
It felt important to make him comprehend how strong her feelings were about
this. “I know everyone thinks I was weak for staying with him. My family doesn’t
understand. But I’m not weak, Dex. It was like he had some kind of power over
me. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses for not being independent and a
modern woman—but at the time, I believed everything he said. I suppose it was
because it happened over a long time—it wasn’t as if the day he met he started
telling me what to do.”

“I know.”

“It was like a disease that gradually make
me sicker, or like gorse spreading through a garden. It wasn’t until the end I
realised how much he’d taken over, you know?”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.
You don’t have to talk about that fucking arsehole ever again.” The fierceness
in his voice belied the gentleness in his gaze.

She swallowed. “I know, but it’s just… All
the things he used to say… I’ve spent months telling myself they were all lies,
but the things he used to tell me in bed, about being frigid and boring… I keep
worrying you’ll think the same.” Her cheeks grew warm and her eyes filled with
tears again. She’d lied—this was more to do with her mother than she’d thought.
Emotion simmered too near the surface for it to be a normal reaction to the
closeness of her wedding.

Dex raised her chin with a hand until her
eyes met his. She caught her breath. He really had the most amazing blue eyes.

He kissed her. “Honey, forget him. You’re
mine now. And all I know is that I find you the sexiest, most gorgeous woman on
the planet, and I can’t wait until I get you into bed.” He caught the tear that
spilled out with his thumb, but didn’t scold her. “The key to good sex isn’t
technique, knowing secret moves and a hundred different positions. It’s about
being with someone you love. When you make love with someone you’re crazy
about, it’s fantastic just being together.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. Was that how
he’d felt about Cathryn? She wasn’t stupid—she knew he had a list of conquests
as long as her arm and was pretty experienced in the bedroom. And it was
idiotic to think he still had feelings for Cathryn when the woman had treated
him so badly. But the thought of him saying these lovely things to anyone else
made her shrivel inside.

She just hoped their joint decision to wait
to sleep together didn’t mean they’d built up the first time in their heads to
be some cataclysmic coming together when in fact it would probably be the usual
bumping of noses and awkward manoeuvring to get into position, possibly with
her worrying about achieving orgasm and hurting his feelings, causing her to
fake it.

It had seemed like the perfect decision at
the time. Ian had damaged her to such an extent that she knew it had influenced
her parents’ move to New Zealand, although obviously her mother’s wish to
return to the place of her birth before she died had also played a part. But
Marama’s death on top of Honey’s escape from the destructive relationship had
almost destroyed her, and for the six months before she met Dex, she’d been
plagued with depression and thoughts of
Why bother? Why carry on?

Meeting Dex had felt a little like meeting
an archangel. From the beginning he’d been gentle, caring and affectionate, and
she was conscious of being dazzled, and also afraid of what would happen when
the glare wore off. Not that it had yet—she was still waiting for that to
happen. But she was aware that if anybody showed her kindness, she warmed to
them instinctively, and she knew she had to be careful not to fall for Dex just
because he wasn’t the complete bastard her ex had been.

She’d tried to keep their relationship
light, to have fun and keep her worries to herself, but things had turned
serious rapidly in spite of her attempts to cool it, and within the first two
weeks she’d told him everything, including all her fears and worries. To be
fair he’d done the same, not holding back, and explaining everything about his past,
from his miscreant youth to the disaster with Cathryn. It had been his
suggestion they hold back from sleeping together until they were married as a
way for each of them to prove to the other how serious they were, and she’d
agreed with relief, thankful that even though she wanted him desperately, she
wouldn’t have that side of things to worry about for a while. They could
concentrate on being with each other, on getting to know one another, and by
the time they were married, sex would be a way to share their love rather than
a power struggle to control each other as had happened in the past for both of
them.

She closed her eyes and slid her arms
around him again. She didn’t want to think about Ian—she’d fled to the other
side of the world to get away from him, and Dex was right—the only power he had
over her now was that which she chose to give him. And whatever Dex had felt
for Cathryn was well and truly gone after what she’d done to him.

The past didn’t matter. Who they’d been
with, what had happened before they met—that was all irrelevant. All that
mattered now was being with him, and being loved by him.

“I love you,” she whispered. She nuzzled
his neck, smelling his subtle aftershave, and touched her lips to his warm
skin.

“And I’m crazy about you.” He lifted her
chin and kissed her again. “Want me to show you how much?”

Her lips curved. “You’re such a wicked man.
Doesn’t it worry you that people might see you canoodling in your uniform?”

“I’m off duty. And ‘canoodling’? What
century are you from again?”

She gave a happy sigh as he continued to
press his lips across her cheeks and nose. He did adore her. She should be
thankful for what she had rather than keep fabricating problems. “We are
canoodling. It’s the perfect word for what we’re doing. We’re the most old-fashioned
couple I know. Besides which, people don’t know you’re off duty. It’s not like
there’s a sign above your head or anything.”

His thumb brushed the nape of her neck,
making her shiver. “Want to canoodle some more?”

She thought about it. “Will you put your
hat on?”

In answer, he retrieved it from the fence
post and pulled it on. “Yes, ma’am.”

Another little shiver ran through her. “Ooh,
I love it when you call me that.”

Laughing, he pushed her back against the
wall and lowered his lips to hers again, the warm sun highlighting his features
with bright gold.