A Prince for Jenny (17 page)

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Authors: Peggy Webb

Tags: #star crossed romance, #romance with single dad, #small town romance, #sequel, #sweet romance, #romance, #Peggy Webb backlist, #Southern books, #Peggy Webb romance, #classic romance, #contemporary romance

BOOK: A Prince for Jenny
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"On a bus?" Patrick said.

"Someday we'll go on a bus." Jenny drew a recreational vehicle rollicking down the road, with children and animals hanging out the windows. In the driver's seat was Daniel, and riding shotgun was Jenny. Underneath she wrote The Sullivan Family.

Megan and Patrick pressed their little hands over the picture, then Megan counted the faces at the window.

"That's more than me and Patrick."

Jenny looked at all the tiny faces she'd sketched in the imaginary bus on the imaginary vacation.

"You can take your friends," she said softly.

Gwendolyn, who had been in the doorway for some time, cleared the lump from her throat

"It's time to get dressed, Jenny. Come, children." Gwendolyn took their hands. "Let's go upstairs to Grandma Sarah."

"I'll be right up, Gwendolyn." Jenny went to the window. Half of Florence was gathered on the lawn. But the man she was searching for was still not there.

Claude Sullivan. Daniel's father.

Leaving the window, she went upstairs to don her wedding gown.

 o0o

Music of harps filled his formal garden. A sea of gaily bedecked friends filled the chairs set upon the lawn. Flanked by Jenny's brothers, Daniel stood underneath the arch of yellow roses, waiting for his bride.

Victoria came first, her dark regal beauty causing a stir among the guests. More than one eligible bachelor was smitten that day by the maid of honor.

Patrick was next, bearing the ring carefully upon a satin pillow. Then Megan, spreading rose petals. Her next-door neighbor Bobby Newton, terror of the third grade, stuck out his tongue at her, and she stopped long enough to shake her fist in his face.

Then, acting as if the flower girl threatened guests every day, Megan smiled at her daddy and proceeded serenely down the aisle.

A glimpse of white satin caught Daniel's eye. Jenny. His love, his special angel. The sun shed its light across her face, but she didn't need the sun to shine. Jenny glowed with the beauty of spirit that made her glorious above all women.

Jenny smiled as only she could, and Daniel felt as breathless as he had the day he'd first seen her swinging in her flower garden with her white dress flying about her legs and her golden hair hiding her face. Breathless and reborn.

She came slowly, gliding along, with the gown hiding her limp.

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." For all eternity. Loving his Jenny.

Jake Townsend kissed his daughter on the cheek and placed her hand in Daniel's. "Cherish her," he said.

"With all my heart."

There was a stir at the far end of the garden.

"Look, it's him," someone whispered.

Out of the corner of her eye Jenny saw Claude Sullivan. Without looking right or left, Claude strode through the crowd, straight down the center aisle. Daniel's hand tightened on hers.

"If anyone can show cause why this man should not be wed to this woman, let him speak now or forever hold his peace," the minister said.

There was a collective intake of breath as Claude took his place beside Daniel and glared at the minister. The harpist got nervous and plucked a harp string. A single clear note echoed in the stillness.

Father and son stared at each other, then slowly Claude held out his hand.

"If you'll still have me, I want to be a part of this family, Daniel."

Daniel took the outstretched hand. "I'll have you, Father. Gladly."

Jenny would never forget his smile. It was the greatest wedding gift she could ever receive.

"Well..." Claude turned to glare at the minister. "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to marry my son to this wonderful woman?"

"I'm going to marry them."

"Good. Get on with it."

"That's what I say. I'm tired of holding on to this basket." Megan grinned at her grandfather, a chip off the old block

Daniel winked at Jenny. "This is a feisty Irish family. Do you want to back out?"

"Never." Jenny smiled at him, then turned to smile sweetly at the minister. "Get on with it, please."

He did.

And with both their families and most of Florence looking on, Jenny Love-Townsend wed the man who had dared to become her hero.

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

Daniel knew the meaning of heaven, for every night he held it in his arms.

After a honeymoon in Paris, he and Jenny had settled into comfortable married bliss in his house in Florence. Gwendolyn was invited to join the household, but she declined, choosing instead to stay in the Victorian house that Jenny occasionally used as her studio.

Kicked back at his desk at Sullivan Enterprises, he counted himself the luckiest man alive. He had an adoring wife, two plucky children, a civil if not downright friendly relationship with Claire, and a business that wouldn't quit.

What more could a man want?

Helen punched the intercom. "Daniel, Clark Abrams on line two and your wife on line one."

 Although he'd been waiting to hear from Clark Abrams for three days, he punched line one first.

"Jenny? Hello, darling."

"Daniel..." Her breathy, lilting voice never ceased to send shivers of pleasure down his spine.

"I'm taking the children on a picnic this afternoon. Can you join us?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll be tied up with Clark Abrams."

"The man who wants to buy you out."

Daniel laughed. "The man I'm going to buy out, darling."

"Good luck, Daniel."

She meant it too. Jenny never resented his work as Claire had.

A vision of her frolicking in the leaves with his children came to Daniel. He could almost feel the autumn sunshine on his face.

Would they miss him?

Daniel pushed the thought aside and punched line two. Clark Abrams was waiting.

 o0o

He was late getting home, too late to sing a lullaby to his children, kiss their soft cheeks, and tuck them in. They had a mother to do all that now.

Jenny. She was sprawled in delicious disarray upon their bed, her golden hair shining in the lamplight, one of the sheer white gowns she favored tumbled off her shoulder to reveal one rose-tipped breast.

She came awake at his footsteps on the floor.

"Daniel?" Sleep made her voice throaty. And exceedingly sexy. Fully clothed, Daniel gathered his wife in his arms and buried his face in her sweet-smelling neck. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I love waking you."

"And I love you waking me." She pressed against him, her body already quickened with need. "Wake me some more, Daniel."

Her artless sensuality inflamed his senses. He wanted to be inside her. Now.

Dangerous to lose all reason. Children were out of the question.

Jenny reached for his buttons, her hands hot upon his skin, robbing him of sanity. He crushed his mouth against hers, and they rolled together on the bed. He pushed aside her gown, found her hot, satiny sex. His fingers took up a wild rhythm.

"Oh, Daniel. I want to feel you, all of you. Now." Her hands were upon his zipper.

Need ripped at him, and urgency such as he'd never known.

"Wait, love ..."

"Please, Daniel." She whimpered with the need that scorched through her.

Letting her go even for an instant was sheer agony. He fumbled in the bedside table, then seconds later, fully sheathed and fully clothed, he took them on a wild, hot journey that left them both panting.

Later, when he had undressed and lay beside her naked, he made love to her again, this time in the leisurely fashion of a man who knows he has the rest of his life with one special woman.

 o0o

Negotiations with Clark Abrams demanded all his time and energy. As his body and his mind became more fatigued, his passion became more demanding. He spent the cool nights of October in hot, unbridled lovemaking.

Not only did Jenny anticipate his moods, she matched him. Once when she spread yellow rose petals and waited among them, naked, he was in her before he thought.

Her hot flesh squeezed at him, and he pulsed with life. He was lost, lost, riding the searing waves of passion.

"Daniel..." She called his name in the shattered voice that signaled she was nearing that final crashing climax.

The sound of his name electrified him. He levered himself quickly off.

"Daniel?"

"I wasn't ready, Jenny."

"Oh." Her voice was crushed with disappointment and defeat.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, silently damning the fates. Jenny put her small hand on his rigid back and rubbed away the tension.

"It's all right, Daniel," she whispered.

He took her in his arms, and sometime later, properly prepared and sensible, he made love to his wife.

 o0o

Jenny slept with one hand curved under her cheek. The rosy flush of their recent coupling tinted her skin.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, studying her. His Jenny. His angel. How she loved him. How she trusted him.

He'd vowed never to fail her. But he almost had. Tonight.

Restless, he left their bedroom and wandered through the house. The children were sleeping peacefully; the animals were content. Every living thing in the house was content except Daniel.

Why? He had everything a man could want.

Sitting at his desk in the study, he idly riffled through a coloring book one of the children had left behind. Out of its pages fell a drawing. One of Jenny's.

With only the light of the moon to see by, he studied the picture. In one corner of the page was their family, with all the names written underneath in Megan's uncertain cursive.

It was the opposite corner of the drawing that arrested Daniel's attention. He snapped on the light so he could see better.

Jenny had drawn a bus, and from all its windows hung animals and children—six children, not two. Megan and Patrick were easy to pick out, for even in caricature Jenny was precise. The other four were nameless, but they weren't unidentifiable. Each of them had the downy hair, the trusting smiles, and the slightly almond-shaped eyes of Down's syndrome. God's special children, riding in Jenny's dream bus. And underneath was the caption in large letters. The Sullivan Family.

The picture haunted Daniel for weeks. At odd moments—when he was talking with Clark Abrams or dictating to Helen or studying a balance sheet—he'd see Jenny's dream, fully illustrated on a drawing in a child's coloring book

The figures on the profit and loss statement stared back at him. He was a millionaire many times over. And a merger with Abrams would triple his wealth.

Jenny and the children were bird-watching today. Hoping to spot an eagle, Megan had said. And Jenny, knowing the importance of dreams, hadn't told her eagles were scarce in number, and not likely to be seen in Florence, Alabama, in any case.

"Let's take the binoculars so we can get a good look," Jenny had said instead.

He walked to the window, suddenly burning with the desire to see an eagle. He didn't see one, of course. All he saw was the vast parking lot and massive loading docks of Sullivan Enterprises. Signs of his success.

What more did he hope to prove?

Had Jenny and the children seen an eagle yet? He knew there had been a sighting once along the river.

"Daniel." Helen stuck her head around the door. "Mr. Abrams on line one."

Daniel reached for the phone, then changed his mind.

"Tell him I'm out," he said. When Helen shut the door, he picked up the phone and dialed Jenny's doctor.

 o0o

"It's a simple procedure, Daniel." Dr. Wayne Dodge took off his glasses. "And irreversible. Are you sure about this?"

Daniel smiled. "I've never been more certain."

Dr. Dodge polished his glasses. "Have you talked to Jenny? Perhaps she should be the one to have it done."

"No! My decision is final."

"It's also noble, but then I've always known that about you, Daniel. You're a noble man. And Jenny is a very lucky woman."

 o0o

Jenny and the children were flushed with the success of their bird-watching trip. They hadn't seen an eagle, but they'd spotted two red-winged blackbirds and a covey of quail.

Driving with great care as she always did, Jenny turned her car toward home.

"Look!" Patrick shouted, pointing.

Parked in front of the Sullivan mansion was the largest recreational vehicle Jenny had ever seen. It was white as a swan, with beautiful blue stripes running down the sides and blue-and-white-checked curtains in the windows.

"It's a bus." Megan jumped up and down in her excitement. "Who is it, Jenny? Uncle William?"

William was the one of her brothers who would do something like that, go off and buy a bus.

"I don't know." Such a beautiful bus. Jenny hoped it did belong to William. Then she'd get to ride.

The children barreled out of the car the minute Jenny parked. And around the corner of the bus came Daniel.

"Daddy! Daddy!" they yelled, catapulting into his arms. "Whose bus?"

Hugging them close, he gazed over the top of their heads at Jenny.

"Jenny's," he said.

Jenny wondered if it was possible to die of joy. She thought she might. With her hands pressed over her heart she gazed at her husband, too overcome to speak.

"Can we ride?" Megan asked.

"You certainly can."

"Where will we go?" Megan, ever practical, wanted answers.

"Wherever Jenny wants to."

The children raced off to inspect the bus. Jenny came to him then, hurrying as fast as her brave rolling gait would allow, hurrying straight into his arms. He kissed her upturned face.

"You remembered," she whispered.

"It's high time." He kissed her eyelids, her hair, her ears, her cheek, her chin. "We'll see the world, Jenny. We'll stop at every mountain and every stream in America."

"What about your work?"

"I'm selling out."

"Selling? Daniel... not for me."

"Partly for you, partly for me, but mostly for the children." The children of her heart. Megan and Patrick. Only two in such a big bus when there was so much room for more.

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