While the Fire Rages (27 page)

Jo moaned again and, frowning with concern, Brett crossed to the bed in three long strides. The sight that met his eyes stole Brett’s breath.

Jo was lying on her back in the center of the bed, her arms flung wide, her fingers grasping at the sheet, nails scratching the smooth surface. Her naked body was only partially covered, and even as Brett stared her legs thrashed about, dislodging the comforter completely. Gazing transfixed at her white skin gleaming in the moonlight, Brett felt a kick of desire in his loins. A sighing sound drew his eyes to her face. Her head moved restlessly as another sigh whispered through her slightly parted lips.

She’s dreaming, Brett concluded in bemusement. Watching her legs, Brett’s heartbeat accelerated. She’s dreaming she’s making love! Brett closed his eyes as another low moan sent a shiver of excitement careening through his body. Barely conscious of what he was doing, Brett opened his eyes, then, fastening his gaze on her writhing body, he began to undress. When the last piece of his constricting clothing had been discarded, Brett stepped up to the bed. Sliding onto the cool sheet beside Jo, he ran one palm lightly from her ankle to her hip. Immediately Jo’s leg moved to press against his hand and a low groan of need murmured from deep in her throat. Brett was sliding his hand over her rib cage when a chilling thought stopped him cold.

Who is she dreaming she’s making love with?

Watching her, wanting to know, not wanting to know, Brett closed his mind to the visage and name of one man.
She’s mine,
he raged silently.
Awake or asleep, Jo is mine!
Blocking out the idea that what he was doing could very well be wrong, Brett deliberately took possession of her silky-skinned breast.

“Brett.”

Not even a whisper, hardly more than a sigh, yet his name swelled to a joyous crescendo in Brett’s mind. Jo was dreaming
he
wasmaking love to her! Unhesitatingly, Brett carefully slid his body between her soft thighs, determined to make her dream a reality. Covering her gently, yet not joining their bodies, Brett touched Jo’s parted lips with his own. Before entering her, Brett wanted her fully conscious of who was doing what to whom. The touch of his lips and hands feather light, Brett adored her body.

“Brett?” Jo’s voice was fuzzy. She was not yet fully awake.

“Yes, love?” Brett murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, Brett. Is it really you?” Jo was coming out of sleep, but falling into passion. Her hands forsaking the sheet, she grasped Brett instead.

“Yes, love,” Brett assured softly. “It’s really me.” He gave her the feel of his tongue along her bottom lip for proof.

“I missed you so.” Jo’s arms tightened; her thighs relaxed. “Don’t make me wait. Please.” She arched her body to his with the plea and sighed when Brett granted it

Moving slowly at first, savoring the velvety softness of her, Brett twined his fingers in Jo’s hair and kissed her tenderly on her cheeks, her eyes, her chin. When his lips brushed hers she groaned.

“Kiss me. Love me. Oh, Brett, I need you.” The moan deepened into a sob. “I need you.” That’s when the brainstorm hit him. Teasing her with his body’s slow strokes, Brett brushed Jo’s quivering lips again.

“Marry me, Jo.” Brett’s voice was low but firm with conviction.

“What?” Jo’s heavy lashes fluttered, slowly lifted. She stared at him with passion-clouded eyes. “What did you say?”

“Marry me.” Brett increased his stroke, restraining a smile at the immediate response she made with her body.

“But...”

“We’re good together, love,” He brushed her lips harder. “You know we’re good together. Not just like this.” Brett thrust against her then slowed again. “We’re good together in everything.”

“Brett, we can’t!” Jo’s breathing was shallow now and getting more shallow with each passing instant. “We don’t…”

Brett closed her mouth with his own, certain he didn’t want to hear whatever she was going to say. He let his tongue match the motion of his body. When Jo was clinging to him, whimpering in need, Brett denied her his mouth.

“Will you marry me, Jo?” Brett stopped moving entirely.

Jo seemed unable to open her eyes. “Brett… please,” she wailed.

“Will you marry me, Jo?” Brett kissed her very hard, and very fast.

“Yes.”

The whisper trembled through Jo’s lips. Relief trembled through Brett’s body. Strength, power, followed on the heels of relief and, positive he could fly at that moment if he so wished, Brett gave in to the fire raging in his body.

Sated physically, satisfied emotionally, content in his mind, Brett lay cradling Jo’s relaxed body close to his own. “Are you asleep?” Moving his head slowly, he brushed a few damp tendrils away from her temple with his lips.

“Yes.”Jo’s warm breath feathered the skin on his chest.

Lifting one hand to her chin, Brett turned her face up to his. “You won’t back out. Will you, Jo?” he asked quietly, staring directly into her love-softened eyes.

“No, Brett, I won’t back out.”

Brett fought the urge to close his eyes in relief. Although he wasn’t overjoyed at the underlying note of calm acceptance in Jo’s tone, he consoled himself with the realization that her tone had also contained firm conviction. For now, Brett decided he could live with the knowledge that Jo would not attempt to repudiate her agreement to legalize their union on the grounds of duress. They could make it work, he
would
make it work, Brett vowed. He had to because he really had no other choice; Brett knew he could not let Jo go now. Brett also knew that he belonged to Jo every bit as much as he felt she belonged to him. It was somewhat scary but, Brett shrugged mentally, there it was. Bending to her, he kissed her with soft tenderness.

“We can be married in Vermont next week.” The suggestion made, Brett held his breath, waiting for her reaction. He didn’t have to hold his breath long.

Jo’s eyes, suddenly clear, alert, widened in shock. “Next week?” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Vermont? Brett, I can’t be ready to get married in less than a week!”

Positive he detected a note of panic creeping into her tone, Brett tightened his grasp on Jo’s chin. “You can be ready.” To punctuate his assertion he kissed her deeply. “You
will
be ready.” His mouth crushed hers again. “We will be married”—another brief kiss—”next week ... in Vermont. I’m sure Casey and Sean will be delighted to stand witness.” Brett’s punishing kisses were beginning to backlash. Feeling his body harden with renewed passion, Brett conveyed his need to Jo with his mouth, and his tongue, and his groaning words.

“Say yes again, Jo, please.”

“To which question?” Jo gasped as he trailed his fingers from her chin to her breast. “The one you’re asking with your words? Or the one you’re asking with your body?”

Laughing softly, Brett sucked gently on her lower lip. “Say yes to both.”

“Yes to both,” Jo parroted at once, qualifying, “On one condition.”

As by now the fire racing through Brett had consumed his brain, he would have consented to almost anything. “Name it,” he murmured into her mouth.

“This time”—Jo hesitated, then rushed on—”I want to make love to you.”

This was a condition? Laughter shook Brett’s body. Flinging his arms wide, Brett threw himself back away from her to lay stretched out on the bed. ‘Take me,” he cried, grinning wickedly. “I’m yours.”

Brett was to remember his words several times over the days that followed. And, every time he did, he felt again the thrill he’d experienced in being taken by Jo. When that exceptional woman decided she was going to make love to a man, she put her heart and soul into the effort. Days later Brett’s body still tingled from the effective way she’d tormented him with her soft, caressing hands and her sweet, hungry mouth. Marriage to Jo, Brett decided, still lost in bemusement, should prove to be one interesting experiment.

Surprisingly, as the days until their departure for Vermont shortened, Brett found himself growing more and more nervous. Why the tension? Why the jumpiness? Why the crawly sensation in his stomach? Brett quizzed himself repeatedly. It was not as if he were being coerced into matrimony. Quite the contrary. If a charge of coercion were to be leveled,
he’d
be the guilty party. Strange, he thought, he had no recollection of any nervousness at all before he and Sondra were married. Brett’s thinking process danced around the edges of the answer to his uptight feeling right up till he and Jo arrived in Vermont

As Brett had predicted, Casey and Sean were both delighted and flattered to be asked to witness the nuptials.

Casey, bubbling over with the news that she was pregnant, threw herself into the wedding spirit and, by the time the legalities were taken care of, had made all the arrangements for the ceremony.

Brett and Jo were married in a picturesque New England church on a Thursday morning in early February. Immediately following the brief service, Casey and Sean whisked them off to an equally picturesque but decidedly elegant restaurant for a champagne wedding breakfast that lasted through four bottles of the expensive wine and most of the afternoon. From the restaurant, the Delhenys poured Brett and Jo into a cab with the advice to do everything they might do.

“Which should take you until sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Casey confided laughingly.

It was then that Brett, not drunk by a long shot, but feeling little pain, faced the reason for his nervousness during the previous week. In a word, Brett identified his malady. That word was fear. The cause and symptoms had vanished when Jo signed her name to the marriage certificate.

The first thing Brett did after he’d locked the motel room door was kiss his new bride, satisfyingly and thoroughly. The second thing he did was pick up the telephone receiver and dial his mother’s private office number in Florida. When his mother answered in her endearingly brisk tone, Brett, wasting no time on formalities, went directly to the reason for his call.

“Jo and I were married this morning, Mother.” Not being able to resist, Brett added insolently, “We’ll accept a large check for a wedding present.” From behind him, Brett heard Jo’s shocked gasp and grinned. His grin widened at his mother’s retort.

“You’ll accept what I choose to give you, smart ass.” There was a telling pause before  Violet said solemnly, “Congratulations, Brett. JoAnne is a lovely young woman.”

Violet’s tone changed to reveal confusion and a tinge of hurt feelings. “But why didn’t you let us know? You could have been married at the farm.”

“I’ve done that. Remember?” Brett’s grin was gone, replaced by a grimace. Brett had coolly and deliberately chosen not to inform his family about his plans simply because he knew his mother would suggest the farm as a perfect site for the wedding. Brett’s reason for not wanting to be married at the farm had absolutely nothing to do with memories of Sondra and everything to do with Wolf being in residence there. At his mother’s sharply indrawn breath and murmured “Oh, Brett, how foolish of me. I’m sorry,” Brett made an effort to soften his rough tone. “It’s all right, sir, forget it. Besides, I wanted to go skiing on my honeymoon.”

Following his mother’s request, Brett handed the phone to Jo, standing by patiently while she responded to her new mother-in-law’s well wishes. When the connection to Florida had been broken, Brett again handed the receiver to Jo.

“Your turn to face the firing squad,” he teased. “But make it quick, love, your bridegroom is getting itchy.”

Wondering at the odd expression on Jo’s face, Brett studied her as she placed the call. There was something wrong with Jo’s family situation, Brett knew; something that had hurt her. And, although Brett knew Jo had informed her parents that she was getting married, it was obvious she was not happy about making this call. Brett listened intently to Jo’s short, terse conversation, anger stirring when she winced at something that was said to her. The moment she’d replaced the receiver, Brett enfolded Jo in his arms.

“It’s all right, water baby,” Brett soothed as she began to weep. “Don’t cry, love.”

“You don’t understand,” Jo sniffed, burrowing into his chest. “Talking to my mother always makes me cry. You see, my mother and father hate each other. And it’s so sad ... They’re both so very unhappy.”

What could he say to comfort her? Coming from a happy family, Brett hadn’t the vaguest idea. So, instead of words, he comforted her with caresses. Jo didn’t cry very long.

Chapter 10

Jo woke to the delicious sensation of her husband’s lips exploring her face.

Her husband! A shiver of pleasure rippled through Jo’s mind and body. Brett’s arm, bent at the elbow, made a V on her chest; his fingers combed through the tangled mass of her hair. Circling his wrist with her hand, Jo lifted it to peer at the face of the slim gold watch he’d forgotten to remove in the heat of the moment the night before. The hands stood at eleven fifteen. She had been Mrs. Brett Renninger for over twenty-four hours!

Eleven fifteen! Good heavens! Jo stared at the watch in disbelief. She never slept past nine in the morning, not even on her days off or on holidays! Of course, that was before one very handsome man breezed into her life, and her bed, keeping her awake until the darkness of night gave sway to the pearl gray of predawn. A memory thrill tiptoed down Jo’s spine. Had any bride ever had a more ardent bridegroom? Had any bride ever experienced such consummate ecstasy? Jo very seriously doubted it. But, even so, it was time to get up! Even if she infinitely preferred to lay luxuriating in her marriage bed.

“Brett?”

“Hmmm?” Brett’s warm breath caressed her ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” Gulping back a gasp, Jo managed a steady tone.

“Time to make love to you again?” Brett responded immediately, hopefully, gently nipping at her earlobe.

Jo tried, and failed, to suppress the laughter that bubbled into her throat. “What are you?” she demanded in a falsely stern voice. “Some kind of sex maniac?”

“No,” Brett denied calmly, poking the tip of his tongue into her ear. “I’m every kind of sex maniac.” Raising his head, Brett gazed at her with eyes so soft with tenderness, Jo’s throat closed with emotion. “But,” he qualified seriously, “I only suffer this libido madness when in the company of one particular woman. The rest of the female population is absolutely safe from me.”