A Date With Fortune Read online

  “Do I need protection?” he asked.

  “I’m on the Pill.”

  Still, he didn’t want to rush it. He moved onto his side so that he could touch her everywhere. He angled a leg between hers, nudging them open, giving him access. He touched her, that’s all, just barely touched her and she was arching high, pressing into his hand. He wanted to be inside her the first time, so before she peaked he moved above her, positioned himself. Her breath came out unsteady and shallow. Her eyes were open wide, watching him as he pressed forward, as ready as she.

  Except...he found resistance. He knew she was ready, so he pressed some more, and found more resistance.

  And then he knew. Was shocked—and yet not. “Are you a virgin?”

  She nodded. “I want this. You. Please.”

  He couldn’t take it all in, not positioned as he was. Not as ready as he was. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Does it really make that much of a difference?”

  “Of course it does, especially at our ages. There’s a responsibility attached.” An obligation, he thought. They weren’t young and foolish. They were mature...and foolish. “This is not how your first time should be.”

  He reached for his phone and left the room in all his glorious nakedness.

  Felicity watched him go without a word, shutting the bedroom door behind him. She pulled the sheet up, raised her knees and rested her forehead against them. She’d messed up. He was right—she should’ve told him, although she didn’t think he should have stopped. Not at that point. It couldn’t have been easy for him—

  She covered her face with her hands as tears pressed at her eyes, burning with embarrassment. He must hate her. He was probably trying to get Tanner to fly them home right now.

  She got out of bed, reached for her dress, wanting to leave his room and hide out in her own, but then the door opened and he strode in, looking like the executive he was, although a naked one. She wouldn’t want to tangle with him in a boardroom, not with that expression on his face. But tangling under the sheets...

  She held the dress against her body, swiped at her tears. She saw his gaze soften a little.

  “You need to get dressed,” he said. “We’re getting married.”

  “What?” She backed up. “We are not.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re a virgin because you made a conscious decision to wait for marriage. Right or wrong?”

  “Right, but—”

  “Then we’re getting married.” He opened his closet door.

  She jerked on her dress while he had his back turned, then marched up to him. “You can’t just tell me we’re getting married and expect me to obey, Michael Fortune.”

  He aimed a steady, fierce look at her, one that said “Don’t lie to me.” “Why did you decide to sleep with me, Felicity?”

  “Because you’re the one,” she fired back.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I never wanted anyone before you, not enough to actually do it. You think it was hard to stay a virgin all these years? It wasn’t. But you’re different.”

  “How? Tell me exactly how.”

  She lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to be accused of lying to him or withholding information again. “Because I’m in love with you.”

  He turned his head away so fast, she didn’t get to see his reaction. “Then it’s settled. Go get ready.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t want to fight, Felicity.”

  “I won’t marry you until you answer a question for me. Why are you doing this? Why marry me?”

  “Because I want to sleep with you.”

  She tried to see deeper. “But I’m willing to sleep with you without marriage.”

  “You would regret it.”

  She frowned. “That would be my problem, not yours.”

  “You don’t get it.” He cupped her shoulders. “I want you more than anyone ever. I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into Estelle’s.”

  All she could see were hurdles. Where would they live? Who would give up their career? Did he want children? She did. And did he really think they could sustain a marriage on lust alone?

  He must love her and not be willing to admit it, even to himself. Surely Michael wouldn’t ever do anything he didn’t want to, didn’t choose to do. And surely he knew a marriage couldn’t be built on such a shaky foundation.

  No matter what he said, she could walk away right now, she had no doubt of that. He wouldn’t force her.

  But you want to be his wife. The words whispering in her head made the decision for her. She would make it work. He loved her, she was sure of it. She just had to get him to admit it. She hadn’t failed at anything important. This marriage would be no different.

  And heaven help her, she wanted to be married to him, no matter what the circumstance.

  “I’ll get ready,” she said, laying a hand along his face and giving him a tender kiss.

  Because the red dress was the most formal garment she’d brought, and because he liked it so much, she decided to wear it. If she felt twinges about going through with the ceremony without her family and friends there to wish her well, she would just have to ignore them. And she’d never been one to cut out photos of wedding gowns or flower arrangements or wedding bands like some of her friends, so it wasn’t loss of a big ceremony that would bother her, either.

  So, what was bothering her the most? Why was she worried? She needed to discuss this more with Michael, so she finished dressing, stepped out of the room and discovered their suite was crowded with people decorating the patio, setting up tall candlesticks, tucking flowers here and there. So, they would be married right there in their room, she realized, amazed at the transformation of the space into something romantic.

  Overwhelmed, she stayed rooted in place until Michael spotted her and came over.

  “How can this happen?” she asked. “There are legal issues, time factors. It’s late at night.”

  “No problem is too big if you’re willing to pay the price. Apparently this happens often enough that the hotel has a contingency plan they can institute in minutes. You look beautiful, Felicity.” He leaned around her, then handed her a bouquet of orchids, wild and exotic.

  She didn’t take them from him. “Did Sarah-Jane tell you I wanted to marry you?” He’d been sure of himself. Too sure, she realized. If he’d had the advantage of knowing that—

  “Sarah-Jane did not tell me that.”

  She accepted the bouquet. Fifteen minutes later they were husband and wife. The ceremony wasn’t entirely impersonal because the woman minister was warm and kind. The hotel staff serving as witnesses had gotten dressed up. A guitarist strummed and the trade winds blew. Still, it was a blur as Felicity repeated her vows, each one seeming more ominous than the last.

  And yet Michael also promised to love, honor and cherish. No one held a gun to his head. His vows were made freely.

  He loved her. He had to.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Until death do us part, Felicity thought as Michael’s lips touched hers. She found contentment in the words, anxious finally to tell everyone at home.

  But first there would be a wedding night to remember.

  * * *

  Married. After everyone left, Michael glanced at his wedding band, a matching one, although temporary, to Felicity’s. He had a jeweler in Atlanta he trusted. He would buy her something there. In the meantime, they wore plain platinum bands.

  Their meaning, however, was anything but plain. In fact it was all very complicated—except for the fact she was his now. Forever. She would be waiting for him at home every night. They would talk and laugh and make love. No more finding a date for events requiring his attendance. He could be open with her, trust her, not have to hold back for fear what he said might end up on Facebook or Twitter. Life would be good
.

  But for now, all he wanted was to make love to her.

  He watched her standing on the patio, sipping champagne, a gentle breeze lifting her hair, so that it floated behind her. Her dress molded to her body. He knew what she looked like under it, would get to see that perfect body every day. Could shower with her, their soapy hands exploring each other. Could go to sleep and wake up spooned together.

  Starting now.

  He walked over to her, slipped her champagne flute out of her hand and set it aside. He lifted her in his arms and headed for the front door of their suite, where he opened it, walked through, turned around and carried her back inside. He wanted to do things right, make memories for her.

  She smiled at him, not the sunny smile he’d come to know, but more passion-filled and seductive. She didn’t have to hold back, and neither did he.

  “Wait,” she said. “I need to do something first. Be patient.”

  He set her down, and she took herself off to her bedroom. He poured himself a glass of champagne and downed it, trying not to speculate about what she was doing.

  She emerged from her room in a diaphanous white negligee that hid and revealed at the same time. The fabric was sheer, but lace flowers provided modesty in places.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. He remembered a time when he hadn’t thought so, only that she was fresh-faced and adorable, but now, to him, she was beautiful. How had he missed that?

  She started to walk toward him, but he held up a hand. “Let me just look for a minute.”

  As she had with the bikini, she turned slowly, letting him admire her from all sides. There were no camouflaging flowers on the back side. He’d been aroused since he’d carried her across the threshold, the anticipation enough, but he’d reached breaking point.

  She threw her arms wide, swirled once, then moved straight into his arms. In the bedroom he undressed himself in a hurry, then more slowly peeled her nightgown away. He’d seen her naked already, yet she looked different to him—and brand-new.

  He cupped her head, looked into her brilliant blue eyes and saw love there. “This is going to make me sound pretty Neanderthal-like, Felicity, but I have to admit I’m happy to be your first. That you waited. I know it’s old-fashioned—”

  She put a hand over his mouth. “Then that makes me old-fashioned, too. Come. Love me.”

  She could have meant that two different ways, he thought. Make love or just love. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was, but he knew how to make love.

  They started over, leaving what had happened behind, except he was more gentle with her, even when she begged him to hurry. He feasted on her mouth until she was panting, then moved to her breasts, enjoying the hardness of her nipples against his lips and tongue, while exploring her firm breasts that more than filled his hands. She grabbed his hair as he went lower, using his fingertips, breath and teeth to arouse her, sweeping her intimately with his tongue as gently as he could, holding her down as she arched up in response, making incredible, throaty sounds of pleasure, saying his name over and over. He let her almost peak, then backed off. She tried to pull him up to her, but he wanted to know she would be ready to take him inside, so he let her climax.

  He hadn’t heard anything so amazing in his life as the sounds that came from her. She made him feel more like a man than anyone ever had. And she was his woman now. Forever.

  He settled on top of her, dug deep for control and entered her, aware of everything about her, every sound, every touch, every breath. He could feel her accommodate him, heard her making a soft sound of discomfort, then she rose to meet him. He didn’t last any longer than she did, and it was powerful and endless and memorable. He collapsed against her, felt her wrap her arms and legs around him and hold tight.

  After a minute he pulled away, feeling her shift under him, surprised to see she was crying. “Did it hurt too much? I tried to be careful.”

  “Happy tears.” Her smile was back, the one he knew. “I love you, Michael.”

  He kissed her, then held her close. They slept.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bright rays streamed through a skylight the next morning, bathing Felicity and Michael with warmth. She felt him curled behind her, asleep, his arm around her, as if he was afraid she would leave without his knowing.

  It had been the most wonderful and complicated night of her life. He was a generous lover, and encouraged her to be generous with him as well. She may have been innocent, but she wasn’t ignorant about sex and the various ways to experience it. She didn’t just experience, she wallowed, she luxuriated, she gloried. She loved, and she’d said so.

  But Michael hadn’t. Every time she said the words, he kissed her, never saying anything.

  In the light of day, doubt crowded her decision to marry him. Huge doubts. She realized she hadn’t really been waiting for marriage to make love for the first time. She’d been waiting for love. And hadn’t found it.

  Until he came into her life, that is. But would it ever be returned?

  And now she was married. What would happen next? Where would they live?

  Her parents would be disappointed not to have been at her wedding. Would his? And all of his siblings and cousins? Sarah-Jane was going to be upset not to have been maid of honor. She already didn’t like Michael. This would only seal the deal for her.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Fortune,” came a gravelly voice from behind her, his arm tightening, tugging her even closer. “How do you feel?”

  “Kind of sore all over,” she said honestly. “That was a workout.”

  “No gym membership required.”

  “What time do we need to check out?” she asked.

  “In a couple hours, but I was thinking I might send Tanner home and have him come back in a few days. What do you think?”

  She rolled over to face him. “I can’t leave Liz to handle my shop without notice.”

  “Call and ask. I bet she says it’s fine.”

  “After all we went through these past few days, she deserves time off, Michael, not more work. She’s my aunt and my partner, not my employee.”

  He retreated at her tone, quickly transforming from lover to...to—

  She didn’t know what. Something more serious.

  “All right,” he said.

  “We shouldn’t put off telling everyone we got married, either. There’ll be enough hurt feelings already.”

  He toyed with her hair. “I’ve been thinking maybe we keep it to ourselves for a while longer, let everyone get used to us as a couple before we spring it on them. Spin control in advance.”

  Felicity’s lungs compressed. Her heart shrank. He was ashamed to tell people? “Are you sorry we got married?”

  “I am not sorry at all.”

  His face was saying something different. His skin had gone pale, his eyes turned wary, his lips compressed. She climbed out of bed, got two robes from the bathroom and tossed him one before donning the other.

  She sat on the bed, one leg tucked under her, her arms crossed. “Where are we going to live, Michael? Who’s quitting their job?”

  “That’s something we’ll work out.”

  He apparently hadn’t given it a thought, which spoke volumes to her. It really was only about last night, about sleeping with her. Why in the world had he married her? She’d told him directly she would sleep with him, no marriage necessary.

  What had she done?

  “Do you love me, Michael?”

  “I—”

  “No crap, okay? Answer the question as honestly as you can. We made that promise to each other after the shrimp episode.”

  He put on the robe finally, taking his time, then he sat on the bed, facing her. He took her hand. She tried to pull it back, but he held on.

  “What’s love?” he asked. “I don’t know, Felicity. I hear about it, people sing about it, praise it, use it to destroy other people.”

  She refused to cry, but oh, those tears wanted to come.

  “He
re’s what I know,” he said. “I’ll stay with you always. I will always be faithful to you. If we have children, I will be a better father than my father was. I will hold you in esteem, respect you, listen to you. But love? To me it’s a myth. It’s better to have a good friendship and passion. That’s what we have. That’s what lasts.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. She stood, wrapped her robe closer. Her blood ran cold. “That’s not enough for me, Michael, so I’m not going to hold you to this marriage. More importantly, I don’t want to be held to this marriage. I want forever, but I want to be loved as much as I love. We’ll get an annulment. Heck, maybe the marriage isn’t even legal.”

  She cinched the belt again until it hurt. “You should check into that. In fact, I expect you to take care of it, and soon.”

  Michael didn’t move as she ran from the room. Annulled? No way. Wasn’t going to happen. He went into the living room so that she couldn’t leave without his knowing. A few minutes later she came out of her bedroom, her suitcase in hand. She pulled off her ring and handed it to him.

  “I guess we have to share the plane for the trip back,” she said. “But I’m done talking to you. Except to say this. Last night was lovely and romantic, and I will cherish it always.”

  He didn’t try to stop her, didn’t want to make things worse. The only thing that gave him hope was the catch in her voice. It mattered to her. It all mattered. For all that she was optimistic and light and fun, she wasn’t flighty. If she hadn’t wanted to marry him, she wouldn’t have. Nothing he said or did would’ve mattered.

  Michael took his time getting to the airport, not wanting to arrive too early. The terminal was small, so they couldn’t avoid each other. It would be hard enough to share the plane for hours. He wouldn’t try to convince her to change her mind on the plane. She was too fragile. He could do more harm than good at this point.

  But he would court her again, win her back. She was his wife now.