Love, Lies and High Heels (27 page)

She froze and slowly lifted her eyes to his face. Before she had a chance to comment, the waiter appeared, eager to take their dessert order.

“The lady’d like a creme brulee to go, please.”

“That will take about twenty minutes for the chef to prepare, sir,” the man said. “Would that be satisfactory?”

“No. Wrap up a piece of tiramisu instead. And there’ll be an extra large tip if you get it back here on the double. The lady and I were married a few hours ago and we’re eager to start our honeymoon.”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Right away, sir.”

Luke could barely keep a straight face watching Rusty turn a pretty shade of pink.

“How could you?” she whispered as soon as the waiter hurried off.

“How could I what?” he asked, feigning innocence as he reached for his wallet. “I just told him the truth.”

“Well, speak for yourself.” She dabbed at her lips with the white linen napkin, then slapped it on the table top.

“Does that mean you’re not eager?”

“That’s exactly what it means!” she fumed.

“Why not? You said I wasn’t half bad in bed.” He leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers. “And I promise to make you come,” he whispered.

Watching her squirm in her seat, he grinned. Her green eyes grew wide as her gaze shifted nervously around the room, checking for eavesdroppers, he assumed. She lifted a hand to her flushed cheek.

“Excuse me. I need to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll bet,” he said, standing. Before he had a chance to pull out her chair, she’d bolted from the table and turned her back on him. He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she hurried from the dining room and disappeared around a corner.

By the time she’d returned, he’d paid the check. “I’ve got your dessert, Princess.” He held up the Styrofoam container. “I was thinking about a few things we could do with this tonight. Want me to share my kinky thoughts with you while we’re in the elevator?”

“Not particularly.” She marched ahead of him toward the elevator doors and stabbed the up button. Not once, but five times. Maybe she was eager to return to their room after all. But he sincerely doubted it. That was Rusty’s way of letting him know she was angry. In fact, he’d bet the farm she was boiling right about now.

Well, so was he. But he was having too much fun teasing her to show his true feelings. If she felt uncomfortable about their night ahead, all she had to do was say so. Hey, he was an understanding kind of guy. He would have reassured her there was nothing to be afraid of.

But instead she was behaving like a timid little schoolgirl. And he intended to find out why.

Once inside their suite, Luke double bolted the door and closed the drapes. Rusty hovered in the corner of the room, looking like a timid mouse about to be devoured by a hungry mountain lion.

He started toward her. “Take off your clothes, Princess. Get comfortable.”

“I am comfortable.” Her gaze darted around the room as if she planned to escape.

“Really? You look tense.” Luke put his hands on her shoulders and gently massaged them. “Turn around.” She started to say something, but instead she turned around.

He continued massaging her tight shoulders before moving down to her upper arms. Lifting the mass of red curls away from her neck, he gently rubbed her tight muscles, smiling when she let her head drift back. “Does that feel better, Princess?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then tensed again and spun around to face him.

So much for that idea.

“Luke, we need to talk.”

“Later.”

“No, now.” She ducked under his arm and made her way across the room. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to say this without hurting your feelings, but …”

Luke raised his brows.

“I don’t want to sleep with you.”

Now, why didn’t that surprise him? Although he knew he could change her mind in a matter of minutes. A few thorough kisses and she was his. But he wanted to hear her reasons. Or at least what she thought were her reasons.

He pretended to be wounded by her admission. And she hurried on. “It’s not that your lovemaking technique isn’t … unique.” Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips, driving him crazy with need for her. He wished she’d hurry with her explanation so he could kiss her ripe mouth.

“Unique,” he mocked her.

“I meant that in a good way.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, it’s just that I don’t think sleeping together would be right,” she said without much conviction.

“Well that makes a whole hell of a lot of sense.” He took a step toward her. “We’ve already made love, right?” She nodded and he took another step closer. “And we’re married, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“And it’s our honeymoon night.” He moved in for the kill.

“Yes, I know that but—”

He reached for her hand, brought it to his fly. He heard her quick little gasp of pleasure when she felt his arousal. “And I have this problem, Princess.”

She lightly ran her fingers along the length of him, teasing and driving him wild. Her breath fanned the side of his cheek. “What kind of problem?”

“My problem is that I have a very hard time looking at you and not touching you.” He planted a tiny kiss on her forehead, then moved to her eyelids. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I want you so badly I ache.” He kissed her lips softly, then crushed his mouth to hers. Gently, he aroused her nipples through her suit jacket until he felt her relax against him. He pulled his mouth away and looked down at her. “Now, tell me again why we shouldn’t sleep together.”

If she told him, he couldn’t make out her words beneath his kiss. Just as he’d thought. Putty in his hands. After several more mouthwatering, toe-curling kisses, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

NEITHER OF THEM HAD bothered to fully undress. Things had escalated quickly and gotten out of control as soon as they’d reached the bedroom. But this time Luke wanted to inspect every inch of her while she was naked. And he wanted to start with her breasts.

“Why don’t we get rid of some of this stuff?” he suggested, tugging at the hem of her skirt, which was currently gathered around her waist.

“What stuff?” she murmured. Her warm breath tickled his neck when she spoke. Her body felt limp and lifeless except for the pounding of her heart against his chest. She laid sprawled half on top of him, half on the bed, her beautiful, expensive clothing in disarray. Her silky, red curls fanned across his arm, shoulder and chest.

Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her on the forehead. “C’mon, sleepyhead. Wake up.”

“Do we have to?” She lifted her head an inch as if she were getting up, then she apparently changed her mind and dropped it hard on his chest. “You wore me out.”

He smiled satisfactorily. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Groaning, she said. “Great. Like you need another boost to that big ego of yours.”

“Admit it. I’m the best lover you’ve ever had.”

She yawned loudly. “Well, maybe I’ll think about upgrading your lovemaking status from not half bad in bed to pretty good in bed.”

He ran his fingers up and down her bare arm, loving the feel of her soft skin. “Just pretty good, huh? What do I have to do for you to upgrade me to super stud?”

She laughed softly. “I’ll have to think about that.” With her finger, she traced a pattern around his navel. He sucked in his breath when her knuckles brushed his erection. And after the third time it happened, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands to her sides.

“Princess, you know better than to play with fire.” With his knee, he nudged her thighs apart. Leaning down he placed a tender open-mouthed kiss on her belly, then on the inside of each of her thighs.

Breathing heavily, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “I thought you wanted to get naked.”

“I want you to get naked,” he said, raking his eyes over her mangled camisole and skirt. Her jacket lay in a wrinkled heap on the floor. Slowly, he let his gaze fall seductively to the thatch of moist red curls between her legs.

“But that can wait,” he said. “This can’t.” He pushed into her in one hard, swift move and buried himself to the hilt. She was so tight and hot and wet. His hips began a frantic rhythm, and she matched his urgency with her own lusty unsatiated needs. As he aroused her passion, his own grew stronger. It was a raw act of possession. She was his wife. And he loved her. Though he refrained from saying the words.

Rusty tossed her head from side to side. Her breath came in long, surrendering moans, urging him on.

When he finally emptied himself inside her, he collapsed on his side and dragged her up against him. Possessively, he ran his hand over her bare behind and pulled her closer. “How was that, Mrs. Galloway?” he asked in short choppy breaths.

“Hmmmm,” she sighed. “I’ll move you up another notch, if you promise to let me rest.”

“First, take off all your clothes. That way I can look at your naked body while you’re sleeping.” He wanted to see the changes the pregnancy had made to her body. He already knew her breasts were a little fuller, but he wanted to touch them, and taste them. He knew he’d have to be gentle—that her nipples were probably extremely sensitive—and he would be.

Luke helped her shed the rest of her clothing, then rid himself of his shirt and socks. Her waistline looked more rounded, slightly thicker. But in front her stomach was still flat. He tried to imagine it round and full with his baby. He hoped Rusty would nurse their child. He wanted to watch their infant child suckle her pink puckered nipples.

That was the thing he pictured as he drifted off to sleep, Rusty cradled in his arms.

The next morning, the first thing out of her mouth was, “If we have a boy, I’d like to name him after you and Sam. How about Lucas Samuel Galloway?”

Luke liked that. He liked it a lot. Smiling, he tucked her under his arm, and brought the sheet up over them both. “That sounds good. And if it’s a girl, how about Bambi or Candy?”

Her head shot up. “You can’t be serious.”

When Luke couldn’t contain his grin, she thumped him on the bare chest. “Ouch. What was that for?”

“For teasing me.”

“I wasn’t teasing. I’ve always loved those names.”

“You would,” she said, then her face lit up. “What about an old fashioned name like Margaret?”

Luke winced. “That’s the best you can do? Bambi’s an old fashioned kind of name, isn’t it?”

She laid her head back on his chest, ran her fingers across his collar bone and shoulders. “Fine. If that’s what you want. But first, picture the type of woman who would have a name like Bambi, and then tell me you want to brand your daughter that way.”

She definitely had a point. Guys would be chasing after his little girl like she was a dog in heat. And Candy might even be worse. No thanks. “Margaret has a nice ring to it.”

She lifted her head, smiled thoughtfully and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I knew you’d see it my way.” She sat straight up, tossed her hair over her shoulders, not bothering with the sheet which had slipped to her waist. “I’m famished. Were you thinking about ordering breakfast anytime soon?”

Luke let his eyes linger on her bare breasts. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? Rusty was his, all his. And in seven months she was going to have a baby. His baby. He still couldn’t believe it. There was only one thing that would make this picture complete. And that was if she were head over heels in love with him. Which she wasn’t. But he wasn’t giving up on her so easily. They had time. They had the rest of their lives.

“Luke?”

“Come back here, Princess. Let me make love to you again, and then you can order a dozen different breakfasts. Since I know how you like to order food and play with it, rather than eat it.”

She had the decency to blush. “Let me guess. You thought of a position we haven’t tried yet.”

Gently, he pulled her down on top of him. “My wife, the rocket scientist. Now, where did I put those handcuffs?” At the startled look on her face, he threw his head back and howled. “Don’t worry, we won’t need them, because you’re not going anywhere, Mrs. Galloway. Not until I’m through with you.” Which he couldn’t imagine happening in the next hundred years.

Two weeks later, Luke came into the house with Jeremy in tow. Both of them were loaded down with paint cans, brushes and assorted supplies. “I found a helper.”

Rusty shut the back door behind them. “Luke, are you sure about this? Maybe we should reconsider and call a contractor.” They’d decided on yellow for the nursery. That way they’d be safe whether they had a boy or a girl. And she’d decided on the cutest teddy bear border, but that would have to be ordered yet.

“I can handle it. Trust me.”

“What about you, Jeremy? Have you ever painted before?”

“Well, no but—”

“He’s a quick study,” Luke interjected. “Hurry up, Jeremy. We need to get started before she changes her mind about the color. She’s already gone from primary colors, to aqua, to rainbow colors and finally pale yellow.”

“Aqua doesn’t sound bad,” Jeremy said, and Rusty began to have second thoughts.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Luke said sternly, pointing a finger at her. “You said yellow.” He lifted a can in the air. “I had this mixed special and we can’t return it. And I ordered that teddy bear border you wanted and it should be in next week.”

Yellow did sound nice, after all. Rusty smiled graciously. “Thank you, Luke.”

Luke sighed with relief. He hurried Jeremy up the stairs as she watched. About midway up, he stopped and turned around. “Rusty, if you really want the aqua,” he started.

She shook her head. “No, I definitely want the yellow.” When he disappeared around the corner, she whispered, “I think.”

“I look so fat!” Rusty said disgustedly to herself in the full- length mirror.

Luke knew enough about women to know that he was doomed. If he said she wasn’t fat, she’d accuse him of lying. If he agreed with her—and he’d be lying, of course, because she was not fat—she’d never forgive him.

“Rusty, you’re only three months pregnant. You can barely tell. You are not fat.” In fact, in that dress she took his breath away.