My Heart's Desire (53 page)

Rennie smoothed the material of her dove gray gown over her lap. She folded and unfolded her hands. She knew her uncharacteristic nervousness was giving her family concern, but she couldn't seem to find the words she needed. She looked at Jarret again. Finally she blurted, "Jarret's asked me to marry him."

Mary Francis laughed. "Is that all?" she asked. "We all
knew
that was in the wind, Rennie." Her beautifully serene smile faded when Rennie continued to look anxious. Mary Francis touched her rosary. "Oh, no, you're not going to have a baby, are you?"

Rennie flushed red even as she glared at her sister. "Must you speak
precisely
what comes to your mind?" she demanded. She shot Jarret an annoyed sideways glance as he laughed under his breath. "I am
not
going to have a baby. At least not right now or anytime in the near future. What I'm trying to say is that I'm going to marry Jarret."

There was complete silence; then everyone began speaking at once. Jarret held up his hand and cut them all off. "I think Rennie meant to tell you that we've already spoken to Bishop Colden. Rennie's annulment was granted this morning. We want to be married right away."

There was another beat of silence; then they all began talking again. This time Jarret leaned back on the sofa beside Rennie and let them go. Rennie was enveloped in her family's good wishes. Jay Mac patted Jarret on the back on his way to pour drinks from the sideboard. He passed sherry and bourbon around and toasted Rennie and Jarret.

"I couldn't be more pleased if I had planned the thing myself," he said, raising his tumbler.

Rennie eyed her father over the rim of her glass. "Papa," she said dryly, "you
did
plan the thing yourself."

Jay Mac thought about that a moment. "So I did," he said. His broad face looked years younger as it was split by a full, proud smile. "Good for me."

* * *

They were married three weeks later in the small chapel of St. Gregory's Church. The guests were family and close friends. Mary Michael and Ethan sent their best wishes from Denver by telegraph. That same evening Moira and Jay Mac left for their home in the valley. Mary Francis returned to the convent. Maggie and Skye were delighted to take a suite of rooms at the St. Mark Hotel, enjoying a measure of independence they were rarely allowed to exercise. Contrary to tradition it was the newlyweds who stayed just where they were.

Rennie and Jarret sat on the hearthrug in the study. There was a fire in the grate, and the two long-stemmed glasses that sat between them held a little champagne. A frosty silver pail held the rest. Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh had retired to the carriage house for the night. The fire and the champagne sizzled. Everything else was quiet.

Rennie pulled free several of the pins that anchored the upward sweep of her long hair. She shook her head. The unbound curls cascaded over her shoulders and framed her face. The dark red tips lay with feathery lightness against the ivory satin bodice of her wedding gown. She placed the pins on the apron of the fireplace and combed out her hair with her fingers.

"Let me do that," he said. Jarret moved around her so that he could cradle her with his body. She fit between his raised knees and rested her back against his chest. Jarret's fingers toyed with the ends of her hair. The back of his hand brushed her breast.

"What do you think Hollis will do while Jay Mac's away?" she asked.

Jarret gave her hair a tug. "This is our wedding night," he said, growling in her ear. "Let's leave business at the Worth Building."

"All right."

Her capitulation was too quick to suit Jarret. He knew her mind was still wandering. "There's little he can do," he said. "I had all the accounts and records moved from Jay Mac's office to here last night. That way I don't have to worry that Hollis may somehow tamper with things while Jay Mac's out of town."

Rennie frowned. "How didn't I know you'd done that? Where was I?"

"Right here in the study, collaborating with your father over the Queen's Point project."

"I didn't hear a thing." It amazed her. There was a veritable mountain of ledgers that Jarret had been poring over in Jay Mac's office these last weeks. The task of moving them in the house couldn't have been accomplished quickly or quietly. "You should have said something. I would have helped."

"Maggie and Skye lent assistance." He kissed her on the temple. "You were concentrating on something else anyway. I'm not surprised you didn't hear."

She brought his hands around her middle and laid her own over his. "Do you think it's safe here?"

Jarret heard the thread of anxiety running through her words. For all that Rennie tried to be indifferent about it, she hadn't felt safe in the house since she discovered her odd dreams of almost a month ago had been a drugged reality. She hadn't been alone in a room in all that time.

"No one's going to get in here again," he said. He gave her a small, reassuring squeeze. "I should have confronted him the day after it happened instead of letting you talk me out of it."

She shook her head. "No, it's better my way. In any event, there was no real proof. If you hadn't told me what happened, I would have gone on thinking it was a dream. Nothing good could have come from your meeting with Hollis. Nina had just killed herself, remember? He would have hardly been rational. Anyway, what did he gain by having Taddy and the others take me out of here, even for a little while? You and Jay Mac have gone on with the investigation, and I went through with the annulment. He's succeeded at nothing in all of this."

Jarret wasn't so certain. Rennie was frightened in a way she had never been before. If that had been Hollis's aim all along, then he had succeeded. Jarret didn't mention that. Instead he said, "We still haven't shown that Hollis was the one who authorized all the expenditures. In fact, most of the evidence points to Jay Mac himself. It's as if Hollis, after setting his plan in motion, simply stepped out of the way."

"But Jay Mac signed what Hollis told him to sign. He trusted Hollis."

Jarret sighed. "I know that, but it doesn't change the outward facts that it looks as if Jay Mac was scheming to steal from his own company."

Rennie's back stiffened. "That's outrageous!" She leaned forward and twisted around to look at Jarret. "Have you told Jay Mac this?"

"We talked about it." He picked up a glass of champagne and sipped it. "He's always known there could be a problem. He's known it since he publicly confronted Hollis. Jay Mac risked a lot to do that. He thinks I'll uncover something."

Rennie relaxed a little. "You will," she said, settling herself against him again. She raised his hand holding the champagne and drank from his glass. "You know that, don't you?"

"I know you believe it," he said. He tipped the glass more and let her drink her fill. When he drew back, her mouth was wet with champagne. Jarret set aside the glass as Rennie turned in his arms. His mouth hovered over hers. His eyes searched her face.

The small space of air that separated them closed. Their lips touched, clung. He tasted champagne and he tasted Rennie, and the blending was a heady one. Jarret's hands slipped around her back. Her satin gown was warm with her body heat and nearly as smooth as the sensitive skin at her nape. He lifted her hair aside and kissed her neck.

His breath was warm, his mouth damp. She felt the gentle draw of his lips on her skin, the tingling suck of his mouth and the rough, moist edge of his tongue. She turned her head, catching his mouth with her own. It seemed that he took her breath.

Rennie's fingers stroked the back of his head, ruffling strands of dark blond hair, then smoothing them back again. She traced a line around his neck, just above his collar, and when she reached the front she broke their kiss and began to remove the studs from his shirt. Her mouth touched his flesh as it was revealed, and he let her take her time, relishing the anticipation as much as the contact.

Jarret shrugged out of his jacket. Rennie followed by removing his shirt. His skin held its bronze cast in the firelight. She looked at him, simply looked at him. Her eyes darkened as they moved over his shoulders, his chest, and when they lowered to the flat plane of his belly, she saw his skin retract as if she'd touched him there. It seemed forever since she had touched him. She was eager; she was shy.

He watched the play of emotion on her face. In his mind he knew the outcome, but the waiting had an erotic power of its own. When she finally leaned forward and touched her mouth to his skin, he nearly came out of it. He looked down at her bent head, at the crown of her beautiful hair, and saw her then in the service of his pleasure and her own. The fragrance of her, the lingering scents of orange blossoms and lavender and soap, became part of his memory of the moment. His fingers sifted through the silken threads of her hair. It curled around his hand, sliding between his fingers and over the back of his hand like rivulets of warm water, leaving a trace of its softness and its scent embedded in his skin.

There were two dozen tiny cloth-covered buttons at the back of her gown. The bodice and long sleeves were tight fitting, a shadow of lace and satin across her skin. Jarret flicked at one of the buttons tentatively. It held secure. He ran the palm of his hand from her wrist to her elbow to her shoulder. The pattern of lace remained.

He sighed. Rennie looked up. It was the boyish look of frustration on his face that was endearing, the unshielded desire in his eyes that was intriguing.

"You could always toss up my skirts," she whispered. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed small kisses along his jaw and just below his ear. She nuzzled his neck, teasing him with her smile and muffled laughter and the press of her body.

Jarret palmed her buttocks and began inching up her gown with his fingertips. "I think I will," he said huskily.

She pushed at his shoulders. They toppled over on the hearthrug together because he wouldn't let her go. Her hair spilled forward, creating a curtain around their heads. She looked down at him. His hands still held her bottom. His thighs cradled hers. "Don't you dare," she said. She kissed him on the mouth. Their noses bumped as she kissed him again. They laughed, and the last vestige of nervousness was simply washed away in the fading echoes of that sound.

Rennie sat up and presented her back to him, lifting her hair out of the way. His fingers plucked at the tiny buttons. He took his time, placing kisses in the space of parted material. His patience was maddening, perfectly delicious. When he was finished he stood and drew Rennie to her feet. Taking her by the hand, he led her out of the study and up the stairs. Their progress to her room was slow. He kissed her at the foot of the steps and every few steps thereafter. Each one took a bit longer, and the bodice of her gown dipped a little lower. By the time they reached the second-floor landing it was rolled around her waist, and the swell of her breasts rose above her corset and chemise. Jarret's mouth traced the shadowed curves.

Just outside the door to her room he lifted Rennie. Her arms circled his neck. The kiss they shared was long and slow and deep, and then they were at the edge of the bed, stepping out of their clothes with careless regard for their finery. Rennie shimmied out of her ivory gown. She sat on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes and stockings. She cast a sideways glance at Jarret and smiled slowly, with her eyes more than her mouth. He was watching her.

"Siren," he said. His own smile was wicked as his eyes grazed the line of her body. He kicked his trousers out of the way and tugged on the drawstring of his drawers.

Rennie felt her breathing come a little faster. She fumbled with the laces to her corset.

"Need some help with that?" he asked.

He was standing right beside her, and she had no idea how he had got there. She nodded. Speaking just now was difficult.

Jarret's fingers tugged at the laces. He kissed her bare shoulders and the back of her neck. His hands smoothed away the marks on her skin made by the stiff whalebone stays. She twisted around and kissed him full on the mouth. He swept back the covers as she wriggled out of her pantalets. Out of the corner of his eye Jarret saw them sail in an arc over the side of the bed. His wicked smile was pressed in the valley of her breasts. He could feel her racing heart against his mouth.

Rennie's breasts swelled under Jarret's touch. He traced a spiral with his fingers. Her nipple hardened. He covered it with his mouth, soothed the tingling heat of it with his tongue. The pleasure of it made her gasp. His hand slipped between their naked bodies and stroked her inner thigh. She thought she would never catch her breath. Her skin was all sensation.

Jarret's fingers probed, teased. Her thighs parted. She caressed his back from shoulder to hip and felt the press of his arousal, the heat and hardness of him against her. He whispered in her ear. She barely understood his husky command and responded as much out of her own need as his, raising her hips and guiding him into her. His mouth found the hollow of her throat. She arched her neck, and in the next beat her body followed. Her heels pressed into the mattress. Her fingers made small indentations in his flesh. This time his mouth caught the sound of her desiring and the breathless pitch of her passion.

He thrust into her hard; the rigid length of him filled her. She tightened around him everywhere. Her legs pressed his flanks, and the soles of her feet stroked his calves. Her arms circled him; her hips cradled him.