The Wedding Must Go On Read online

  Although, when she’d curled up into his strong heat in this bed to finally fall asleep, Roxy had had a disturbing thought. If this got any better, she definitely wouldn’t be able to see him again. Already he was addictive. She didn’t want to get hooked, and neither would he.

  She was enjoying the toasty tickly feeling in her tummy that came from merely being with him when his hawkish nose wrinkled and one long impossibly toned arm stretched high. When that limb dropped over her waist, the impact whooshed air from her lungs. Still asleep, he hauled her near. Naked beneath the covers, Roxy got her breath and slid up against his hard heat. The days might get hot out here in the Outback, but early mornings were perfectly mild.

  For a long satisfying time, she studied the planes and angles of his face at the same time her fingers itched to riffle through the crisp hair on his chest then filter over the slow-pulsing hollow at the base of his tanned throat. Pressed up close, Roxy indulged her memories—and fantasies—until she was aching for him to wake so they could make love again.

  Maybe a friendly nudge.

  Lightly she laid a bent knee over his thigh. When he muttered something, but then drifted off again, she pressed into him more and pinpricks of warmth and desire erupted all over her.

  He was hard. So thick and rigid that fighting the temptation to kiss and stroke him awake had become a real challenge. Then he rolled towards her more and his erection poked her belly. He might not know it, but he was begging for her attentions.

  With a feathery touch, she trailed a hand down over his hip, across the breadth of that steely thigh then gently—but deftly—she coiled her fingers around him and squeezed just enough.

  His engorged length jerked, and again. Leaning in, she dropped a soft teasing kiss on his chest. The wiry black hair tickled her nose at the same time his musky scent drifted deep into her lungs, through her stimulated system. Still, his eyes stayed shut.

  She frowned. What would it take to wake him? Maybe she should nibble his ear or trace the tip of her tongue over the seam of his lips or—

  A wicked grin curved her mouth.

  Or maybe I should really give him something to dream about.

  With infinite care, she shifted and began to slow kiss her way down over his chest, the steely ruts of his abdomen. Her tongue wound leisurely around his navel before travelling further south until her lips grazed the hot rounded tip of his erection.

  In semi-darkness beneath the covers, she took him inside her mouth and instantly her insides began to pulse. Her grip tightened a fraction as she traced her way further down, while her hold on him dragged slowly up. Her breasts rubbing against his legs, she gave herself over to the heat humming through her veins, and the kindling sparking between her own thighs.

  Soon he was moving too—with her, against her. Roxy would have grinned if she’d been able. He was awake, or as awake as he needed to be.

  When his movements grew to a pace and thrust she couldn’t accommodate, reluctantly she released him and slid up his front, leaving a trail of burning kisses along the way. And as her face met his, she was greeted by the world’s sleepiest, sexiest lopsided smile. Easing out a happy growl, he ran a palm over her crown.

  ‘Well, this is a good morning.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.’

  ‘Who said I wasn’t awake?’

  ‘You were playing possum? That’s not fair.’

  ‘Way I see it, it’s you who took complete advantage of me. And don’t let me stop you.’ Offering himself, he lay flat on his back, hands cradling his head. ‘Be gentle.’

  She was certain her eyes laughed even as her lips pursed to contain the smile. ‘And if I’m not in the mood for gentle?’

  Without warning, he flung back the covers, scooped her up and swung her over so that she straddled his lap. After a yelp of surprise, her laughter spilled out.

  Grinding her hips down while he ground up, he pretended to scold her. ‘Shh. You’ll wake up the house.’

  ‘I’m not sure we didn’t keep them awake last night.’

  His palm fanned over one breast, the ridges of his fingers teasing and rubbing a beaded nipple. And as he moved beneath her and Roxy listened to the visceral tune playing deep inside her she found her eyes drifting shut and the pleasure begin to climb.

  With a firm hold on her hips, he manoeuvred his loins and slowly entered her. A hypnotic veil fell and, without conscious thought, she began to move as time wound down to a sweet syrupy slow. Her body was everywhere, exquisite sensations her everything, and as the room grew warmer and his controlled thrusts drove deeper, almost too soon, she found herself balanced on the edge of that wonderful sparkling precipice.

  For a pulse-pounding moment, she stilled, arching her spine more, needing to concentrate to maintain the sizzling status quo; this fine line between infinite understanding and heaven was just too good to let go. But as she swayed and clutched his sides her core squeezed more and the world dropped further away.

  On a different plane, she recognized a comforting warmth cup her cheek and, buzzing all over, she opened heavy-lidded eyes. The sexiest, most considerate lover ever born was gazing up at her with an expression so focused and pure, it took even more of her breath away.

  Perhaps it was that look alone that set the fire free and ripping through her, or a heady combination of surreal, physical and maybe even spiritual pleasures. All she knew categorically was the power of that blinding-white moment of release when her eyes screwed shut, her head jerked back and a groan was torn from the heart of her.

  Moments later, when the rolling waves grew fainter and further apart, finally she withered and lay, spent, on top of him.

  She was drifting in some other perfect place when Nate gently eased her over and guided her onto her back. Then he was inside her again, working towards a second crescendo. Kneeling between her thighs, he reached behind, brought her knees up either side of him and continued to love her, hitting a spot that released a brilliant blue flame that tore through and engulfed her again.

  She ought to have been mindless. Unable to think. And yet all the while one word swam through her mind. Not scorching or orgasmic. She couldn’t shake it.

  This was—he was—magic.

  With Roxy lying worn out beneath him, Nate buried his face in her silken spread of hair, contemplating any likely way they could spend the entire morning wrapped around each other and enjoy more of this, when an odd sound drifted in through the screen covering the open window.

  Laughter.

  Easy.

  Familiar.

  A heartbeat after his eyes flew open, he drew up on his elbows, listened harder. At the same time Roxy stiffened then her head whipped towards the sound.

  ‘Am I hearing right?’ she asked.

  That laughter came again and Nate smiled down into suddenly alert bright green eyes.

  ‘Greg and Marla, chuckling.’

  ‘Talking.’ He sprang up, threw his legs over the side of the bed and, elated, smacked the pile of rumpled sheet at his side. ‘They’re back together.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Frowning, he watched Roxy as she bunched the sheet up under her arms and joined him, sitting on the side of the mattress. ‘People who are angry at each other don’t laugh like that.’

  ‘A ceasefire doesn’t equate to resuming an engagement.’

  He nudged her playfully. ‘Pessimist.’

  ‘Oh, I forgot. Of course you’d assume that true love conquers all.’

  He looked at her sideways and got to his feet. ‘No one can deny love is a powerful force.’

  ‘You’re the expert.’

  She was grinning, that little dimple winking. But she was serious and he wouldn’t rise to the bait. He grinned back.

  ‘Well, y’know, maybe I am an expert.’

  A bath towel, which had been placed at the foot of the bed, had fallen to the floor. He swooped and wrapped it around his hips before heading to the window for a look. Marla and Greg were stro
lling towards a dilapidated old sheep shed situated a short distance beyond the yard. He couldn’t make out their words, but he read the body language. They were walking side by side, close, and glancing across at each other for long moments as they talked. Neither looked stressed. In fact, the pair seemed decidedly relaxed.

  With the sheet draped around her, Roxy appeared beside him. She studied the scene for a thoughtful moment and finally grunted.

  ‘Just as I thought.’

  Squinting at the sunshine bouncing off the shed’s tin roof, he asked, ‘What do you think?’

  ‘She hasn’t forgiven him yet. Or not completely.’

  ‘How could you know that?’

  ‘They’re not holding hands.’

  His head coming forward, he looked harder and exhaled.

  Damn. She was right.

  ‘They were the kind of couple who were always touching,’ she said. ‘His arm slung around her shoulders if they were sitting at home. Her leg sliding up his under the table when they went out to dinner. Always holding hands when they walked.’

  ‘Be that as it may, they’ve made remarkable progress. By early afternoon, they’ll be planning how to let everyone know the wedding is back on.’

  Attention still on the couple disappearing around that shed, Roxy brought the sheet up higher under her chin.

  ‘Maybe.’ Her gaze dropped. ‘I don’t think you understand how hurtful a picture can be. It sticks in your brain even when you wish it wouldn’t.’

  He studied her profile and wondered. ‘We’re not talking about Greg’s pictures from his buck’s night, are we?’

  She seemed to hold her breath before meeting his gaze again. ‘The week after that engagement party, I happened upon a magazine shot of you. You were with a woman. A brunette. Some might consider her attractive. To my mind she looked like a bit of a tart.’

  His mind wound back and in a few seconds he had the answer. ‘That was no tart. Roxy, that was my sister.’

  The sheet clutched higher around her throat but she shook her head. ‘No. That’s not right. You were with her.’

  ‘I assure you, not in that way. Naomi’s husband was interstate. I escorted her to an art gallery opening she didn’t want to miss. If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t dated a woman since that engagement party.’

  Her eyes glistened and nose twitched as if she were battling a sudden rush of emotion. ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘One of my other sisters, Ivy, thinks I’m a boring businessman with no social life.’

  A smile lit her eyes. ‘She does?’

  He laughed, then wrapped his arms around her waist, brought her close and murmured against the warm shell of her ear.

  ‘What say we do our bit to help the environment and save water by sharing a shower?’

  In case she had any ideas about declining, he dropped his mouth over hers and moments later she was as pliant as warm putty.

  ‘Just remember,’ she purred, when he broke the kiss, ‘making love for thirty minutes under a shower nozzle doesn’t equate to conserving water.’

  ‘I’ll remember that if you promise not to work me into a lather.’

  ‘I’ll promise if you promise.’

  Taking her hand, he led her to the attached bath and assured her.

  He wouldn’t promise anything.

  Despite wanting to stay with her under the jets, Nate only kept Roxy in the shower for ten minutes, enough to froth her up and wash her down. And as he reluctantly turned off the water, in his mind he confirmed that these few days away were the best idea he’d ever hatched. He’d lost count of the times he and Roxy had made love and yet he still couldn’t get enough.

  Nothing he couldn’t handle, of course. This was physical. Fun. He was a long way from falling down on one knee and pledging his heart. Especially now that Marla and Greg were back on track.

  After he and Roxy dressed in jeans and tees, they stuck their heads out of the door and smelled breakfast, something salty and greasy, along with eggs and more scrumptious damper.

  They ate in a huge old-fashioned kitchen, complete with yellowed vintage oven, scarred hardwood table and the cheerful company of Mr and Mrs Glenrowan. But there was no sign of Marla or Greg, although Mrs G let them know that it seemed some mice had raided the pantry and perhaps the other young couple had preferred a picnic for breakfast rather than sharing their company around the table this morning.

  Over a warm cup of tea, Mr Glenrowan suggested a horse ride, so, after the dishes were cleared and Nate and Roxy fitted on suitable footwear, they made their way out front to see about galloping off down a wide-open plain. When they stepped into the sunshine, Mr Glenrowan had four horses saddled and ready. Greg and Marla were there too, chatting to each other while they waited.

  Greg spotted them first and he put up a hand in greeting. ‘You’re joining us for a ride?’

  Marla’s smile was buoyant and a little contrite. ‘Oh. Hi.’ She threw a glance around. ‘Great day, huh?’

  ‘A beautiful day,’ Roxy replied in an overly bright tone.

  Mr Glenrowan was checking a gelding’s girth strap. ‘Who wants this one? He’s good ‘n’ tame.’

  Greg stepped up to a fine muscled animal with a glossy black coat and equipment that pronounced him a stallion. His palms smoothed over the horse’s flank. ‘I’ll take this one.’

  When all four were mounted, Marla said, ‘Greg and I thought we might take a ride on our own, if that’s okay.’

  While Roxy exclaimed, ‘Of course that’s okay,’ Nate grinned and mentally punched the air at the same time Mr Glenrowan gave instructions to them all.

  ‘You’ll find canteens in your saddle bags. Compasses too. It’s a big place. Don’t stray too far. And, each couple—you keep close together.’

  Fifteen minutes later, after a head-clearing stint, cantering over a dusty red flat, he and Roxy brought their horses up to a slight incline.

  ‘Where’d you learn to ride like that?’ he asked, resetting his hat on his head.

  ‘Pony club.’

  ‘You’ll have to show me your blue ribbon collection some time.’

  Swaying in the saddle with the horse’s gait, she grinned. ‘I wasn’t that good, I’m afraid. I only took lessons over a couple of summer breaks.’

  ‘All you need now to really look the part is a pair of breeches and a dressage cap.’

  ‘Don’t forget the crop.’

  ‘You’d use a whip to get a horse to move?’

  She arched a teasing brow. ‘I wasn’t thinking about the horse.’

  While he laughed, a few clicks of her tongue had Roxy’s mount picking up pace and reaching the crest with his own steed close behind. Nate wasn’t normally one to gape, but the majestic scene spread out before them was one of the most breathtaking he’d ever seen.

  Fields of wild flowers, interspersed with eucalypt woodland, stretched out, covering, it seemed, every square inch of land from east to west. Pinks, golden-yellows, intermingled with patches of snow-white. The carpets of blooms, swaying in a sleepy breeze, looked so soft and smelled so fresh, both he and Roxy could only sit, speechless, and absorb one of nature’s most striking canvases.

  When Roxy’s horse shook its head and blew a noisy breath out of her nostrils, still mesmerized, Roxy walked her mare down the slope and through the wide flowing river of petals. Overhead, Major Mitchell cockatoos squawked. With pink-tinged wings wide, they swooped before settling on tall branches to preen and flaunt their stunning crests.

  He and Roxy stopped beneath the shade of a clump of trees. After dismounting, Nate made sure the horses were secure while Roxy roamed around, deep in thought as she ran her palms over a hundred different flower tops.

  ‘I thought the Outback was supposed to be all red dust and dry grass.’ Sighing, she surveyed the panorama, then lowered to flop back among the blooms. ‘It makes me want to try something different,’ she murmured, winding one arm around her head. ‘Become a photographer or, better yet, a painte
r.’

  Lowering beside her, he broke the stem of a soft pink flower and drew lines up and down her nearest arm with the petals.

  ‘Or a florist,’ he said. ‘I do love a pretty bouquet.’

  ‘How about flowers in your hair?’

  He threaded the stem behind her ear and, looking into his eyes as if she might see her reflection there, she touched the decoration.

  ‘My grandmother used to press flowers to keep the memories,’ she said.

  ‘That’s sweet.’ He pretended to clear his throat. ‘I’ve, er, never been into flower-pressing myself.’

  She laughed. ‘Me neither. It seemed silly to try to keep your brightest memories alive by looking back on something all shrivelled and drained of colour. But lying here now, I understand why she did it. It’s the connection … an association.’ As she gazed up at the sky her expression took on a faraway look. ‘Right now, it doesn’t seem silly at all.’

  She casually lay out her hand for him to take. Holding his breath, Nate took a mental snapshot of her lying among the petals, that flower in her hair, and, with only a flicker of hesitation, he lay down beside her and twined her fingers with his.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON THEIR way back, Roxy and Nate stopped to check out an old windmill and a run-down shepherd’s shack. They even enjoyed some Red Kangaroo spotting, staying well back and quiet while the roos lay sprawled beneath a tree, scratching themselves, or bounding off into a horizon that rippled with heat waves. Roxy had fed kangaroos in sanctuaries but seeing them looking so magnificent and at ease in their natural habitat was something she’d remember for ever.

  When the sun blazed down almost perpendicular in the sky, they set their hats firmly on their heads, swung the horses around and cantered back. Later, as they were lashing reins over the homestead’s front rail and drinking from their canteens to appease dry throats, Greg and Marla appeared, rounding a verandah corner.