She could almost pretend they were lovers from long ago, united at last on some supernatural plane of existence. In a way, that was true. So many years lay between them, years of pain and denial. Years that they had the rest of their lives to make up for.
Jase bent his head to her ear. “I love you, Laurel Elizabeth. I love you and always will.”
The oaks rustled in the distance, and the lights hanging from their branches shimmered like a million fireflies.
“And I love you, Jason Redlander—forever and ever.”
*
Laurel was totally sated and totally exhausted. Her libido was all used up. They’d taken the edge off with a quickie on the family room couch as soon as they’d gotten back to the house, and then there’d been a couple of replays once they reached the bedroom. Good thing they’d packed their bags early for the Disney World honeymoon.
She glanced over Jase’s shoulder at the genealogy chart he’d picked up from his nightstand. “What about that Pen Swaim thing? Do you think you and I really are distant cousins?
“Could be. Swaim lays out a good plot for the book he’s working on now. An outlaw gang attacks your Auntie Barbara and her architect as they’re eloping. Snake-oil salesman Asa Redlander scares the bad guys off before they kill her like they did her lover. Asa’s squaw nurses Barbara back to health—except for the brain damage, of course—and six months later, Barbara gives birth to a full-term baby girl who grows up to marry Asa’s son when she’s old enough—or maybe when she isn’t, judging by the number of generations the Redlanders managed to squeeze into one hundred and thirty years.”
He replaced the chart on the nightstand, and Laurel felt the mattress sink beside her as he leaned over to caress her bare belly. She moved her arm to give him better access, but didn’t have the energy to respond to his gentle touch.
He ran his fingers back and forth across the pearls that looped around her neck and down her body.
Laurel tilted her head in consideration. “The weird thing is that Pen saw some woman on that TV antiques show who had traced her family history back to the jade pendant, but couldn’t go any further. Her got in touch with her and worked everything else out.”
Jase’s hand followed the path of the necklace down the valley between Laurel’s breasts. “Jade is okay, but I prefer pearls.”
Her shoes had come off on the way to the bedroom, the lilies Lolly had woven into her hair were now crushed beneath them on the sheets, and her beautiful wedding dress was now just an ivory heap beside the bed. But the pearls—the long necklace and the heavy antique earrings—had remained.
Jase lifted the rope and started winding it in a lazy circle around her right breast. He was playing with the pearls, she realized, decorating her breast.
His voice deepened. “Tell you what, babe. You’ll never want to give these sweet beads back to Lolly when I’m through with them.”
Laurel watched him maneuver a second row within the first, but she was too tired to react. “They’re hers, Jase. I just borrowed them back for the wedding.”
“We’ll see.” He circled her breast one more time, then another.
Laurel took a deep gulp of breath when the edge of his thumbnail touched her nipple. “I’m glad Doug was able to make it to the wedding. It was n-nice to meet him.”
Jase smiled at the stutter in her voice. Good. But he wanted more than awareness from her. He wanted her burning hot.
He twisted the rope and moved to her left breast, laying down a careful first row. “Nearest thing I have to a brother.”
Laurel’s head was swimming. The familiar heat was racing through her veins. Jase carrying on a seminormal conversation with her while he wrapped her breasts in pearls was incredibly erotic, like a French movie she’d seen, where the heroine’s sophisticated lover paused a couple of times for a puff on a cigarette while he was making love to her.
He ringed her breast again, and she could feel her passion rekindling with each pearl he nudged into place. She tried to rise, but he pressed gently down on her shoulder.
His voice was guttural. “Not yet. Artist at work.” He circled Laurel’s tightening nipple a third time, then draped the last of the pearls down to her stomach.
Damn, she is beautiful, like a pagan love goddess. He gazed at her for one long moment, at her pale, luminescent skin, her gray eyes turned to smoky slate, her swollen lips, the long strand of beads, the barbaric pearl earrings. He swallowed hard and his eyes narrowed. Taking her face in his palms, he covered it with soft, tender kisses, working his way down across her throat to her beaded breasts, sucking first one turgid nipple, then the other until they gleamed with moisture.
Laurel gasped as the air-conditioning hit her warm, wet nipples, slamming her sex drive into high gear. Her breath came in quick, shallow pants. She was on fire.
“Jase…” Her voice was a feverish whisper. She grabbed at his arms, to pull him closer, but he pressed on her shoulder again.
“Not yet, baby. Trust me.”