"You're husband's descending on us like the wrath of God. Let's give him something to have another heart attack over."
"Bobby, no. That is not funny."
"Come on, princess. You think he'll drop dead if I just lower my hand an inch?"
Amy knew better than to think Orion felt anything more than mild awareness that she was dancing with Bobby. She wasn't anyone that a man like him would get jealous over. Sure, everyone said she was beautiful now, but they still speculated she'd had work done. Rion couldn't see past the memory of the Brackenridge Beast. In his eyes, she was still ugly; someone to be laughed at; someone too hideous to love.
"Beat it, Bobby."
Goosebumps raced along her arms and spine at the sound of that deep, gravelly voice at her shoulder.
"You'll have to wait your turn. I'm dancing with the Belle of the ball."
It was a direct hit, more adroitly aimed at Orion who knew the underlying meaning, than at Amy. It was enough to unleash the beast in Orion. One click, one hit, and he was no longer restrained.
"Rion, don't cause a scene," Amy's quiet reprimand was the only thing that unballed the fist he'd prepared for Bobby's face. "I'll finish this dance with Bobby, then I'll dance with you."
Orion glanced at his wife and found she wasn't looking at him just so. Her eyes swam with her terror of public criticism. No one else would ever understand the courage it took for her to live in the eyes of the international public. But he knew the truth. Amy's chosen careers did not reflect her preferred lifestyle.
"My wife doesn't want a scene, Bobby. I suggest you release her before I break your arms."
Bobby's lips curled into a polite snare. "You sound like a tough-guy there, Ashley."
The brief glance was cutting but effective. Bobby must have seen the danger lurking in his eyes because his head jerked backward sharply.
Orion did not allow his attention to linger on his onetime friend and longtime enemy. He willed everything he felt for Amy into his gaze as he looked at her. "What I sound like is a man whose greatest treasure is in the arms of another. Release my wife." Unconsciously, his command softened into the tone he kept exclusively for conversations with his wife. "Come to me, Amy."
His words landed like little hooks in her heart, drawing her away from an unresisting Bobby into Orion's open arms. Breathlessly, Amy awaited his pleasure. Orion was acting out of character tonight. He was acting as though she had his complete attention, and was almost making her believe it. Dazed, she brought her hands to his chest in a vain attempt to keep some distance between them. Bobby was forgotten. Her parents were forgotten. All her friends and the media were forgotten. She was aware only of the wool fabric of his tuxedo jacket. And the shuddering breath he released as he drew her body flush against his own. Of the breath that tickled her ear when he buried his face in her neck and breathed her in deeply. Against her will, her body responded to his closeness. From a single spark, a fire was ignited. She rubbed her cheek against his own, reveling as only a woman could at his private display of strength when he pulled her even closer. In his arms, only she could feel the tension in his muscles as he opened his mouth to sample the flesh beneath her ear. Only her caressing fingers traced the contours and tendons in his neck, and felt him swallow. How she wanted him.
"Ri, don't do this," she whispered, her teeth disobeying her mind as they nipped at his jaw. "Don't do this if you don't mean it."
His growl was primal as he straightened and enveloped her even more tightly into his arms. "Let's dance," he murmured a hairsbreadth from her lips. It wouldn't do for their first real kiss to be shared in that moment. When he kissed his wife, he wanted it to be private. He wanted to kiss her in a place where she wouldn't be worried about exposure. He wanted the first time he really kissed Amy to be in the privacy of their home where it would not matter if it was unending. Orion settled instead for stroking the side of his nose against hers, then like a boy with his first crush, he stole a small sip of her irresistible lips.
Chapter 9
"This is a fast song," Amy breathlessly pointed out. She was barely able to stand on her own feet in the face of Orion's focused seduction. If this was what making love felt like, she wanted nothing to do with it. Standing on the edge of a precipice should not feel so invigorating. She should not feel so afraid, and yet so ready to fall over the edge.
"Just close your eyes, Amy." His hand cupped her cheek. "Just rest your head on my shoulder and we'll dance to our own music."
"Your heart's racing."
With his own eyes closed in revelry at having his wife in his embrace, Orion started them in a slow sway. "That's what it sounds like whenever you are near." Slowly, he lifted a hand and stroked down the length of her neck, over her clavicle, and down her chest to rest beneath her left breast. "Does your heart race for me, sweetheart?"
"I…I-I don't know," she confessed.
He chuckled, and she loved the way the sound reverberated in his chest.
"I think it does. You haven't caught your breath since you stepped into my arms."
"I haven't caught my breath since you entered my life."
"Twenty-three years is a long time," he said after a while. "Did you love me then, Amy?"
Abruptly, she straightened, almost striking him under the chin with the top of her head. Thankfully the song ended at just that moment, so Amy was able to retreat to the bar without having to answer.
"I need a drink."
"How about we go home and finish the rest of our anniversary there?" Orion suggested as he accompanied her.
Amy stopped and turned to look up at him. Her eyes flashed with anger as she snapped, "So I can go off to sleep while you go visit your mistress? I don't think so."
"Mistress?"
She didn't stick around. "I need a glass of water, please," she told the bartender.
"Amy," Orion said through gritted teeth as he waved to John Astor across the way from them. "Let's go home and talk about this. I think we've got a lot to clear up."
Her water was delivered, and she took a long drink of it before answering. "Let's clear this up right here. I'm not going to stop living while you go gallivanting around with another woman."
Since he knew he hadn't been near another woman since the day Richard Brackenridge had blackmailed him into courting then marrying his daughter, Orion was fair to certainly confident that he had not been 'gallivanting around with anyone. He didn't have the time, nor the inclination.
"I promise you, Amy. If you leave here with me right now, you'll never spend another night alone."
Her lips tightened stubbornly, but her head was tilted at that damned angle so he couldn't really read her expression. "I don't want your pity, Orion. You can live your life; just don't let it destroy mine."
"I'm not offering you pity, Amy. I'm offering you my love."
Her eyes flashed up at him. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."
His jaw flexed and clenched as he gritted his teeth. "Is that your final say on the matter, sweetheart?" he asked with deceptive silkiness.
Amy slammed the glass onto the counter, a clear indication that she was losing her cool.
"I know you don't like a scene, but if you don't walk out that door with me right now, a video of us is going to show up on Youtube before the night is over."
She swallowed and looked away from him. Mutiny was written all over her posture. Her upper lip flinched just once before she said coldly, "Don't threaten me."
"Are you coming?" Orion asked, extending his palm toward her.
"No."
"Fine," he shrugged. "Have it your way." And with one swoop, he bent and lifted her over his shoulder.
"RIONNNN!!!!" Amy screamed as she was carried away like a captive bride. "Your heart!" she cried, more concerned with his exertions than she was with her own predicament. "Ri, your heart! I'll come! I'll come! Put me down! I'll come with you!" When she felt a warm hand cover her backside another scream escaped her. Rather th
an bobbing on his shoulder like a dead fish, Amy braced her palms against his lower back only to immediately flop back down and cover her face. Everyone who was anyone was looking at them. Cameras were flashing, and the blue lights of cell-phones were like lasers tracking their path. "Oh. My. God," she moaned into her hands. "I'm going to die. I just know I'm going to die."
Their remarkable departure from the gala was unprecedented, but Orion's driver had learned - from that day when his employers had both ended up in the hospital - to have the car at the ready at all times. Instinctively, he looked up and spotted his boss jogging down the steps of the Rancher's Club with his wife tossed over his shoulder, like some barely civilized caveman. It took only seconds for him to arrive at the curb. And because he now knew that Orion Ashley was not averse to hijacking his own car where his wife was concerned, Mr. Ashley's chauffeur knew better than to get out of the car and open the door for the couple. He kept the engine primed as his employer tossed his wife onto the backseat and climbed in after her.
"To the house, Harmond!" Orion announced, slamming the door behind himself.
"Which house, sir?"
"Ours."
"Right, sir."
Chapter 10
"You okay, Amy?" Orion asked, leaning over to check on her. He almost got a black eye when Amy uncovered her face long enough to lash out at him.
"You idiot! You unfeeling idiot!" Each exclamation was punctuated by a pathetically girly slap at his head or his chest. "You could have had another heart attack! You embarrassed me in front of all my friends. People recorded it!"
Orion's lips curled sexily and unrepentantly. "I know."
"You know? Is that all you're going to say to me?"
"No. I'm going to tell you that someday - maybe not right now - but someday, Amy, you're going to want copies of that video, and the one they took of us dancing."
Amy gulped, her eyes wide with horror. "They didn't."
Orion gripped her arms, trying to draw her closer but Amy was doubly stiff-arming him and there was no breaking her resistance. "Someday, when you start to believe it yourself, you're going to want to have visual evidence as a reminder that the world knows that the only place your husband wants to spend his anniversary is alone… with you."
Instead of buckling into his chest like he'd hoped, Amy jerked away. Her whole body swiveled toward the door closest to her. Orion would have to cut himself into quarters and squeeze between her and that door if he wanted to see her face.
"Don't play with my heart, Orion. I know you hate me, and that's enough on the matter."
Orion swallowed, a searing pain lanced through his chest at her words. In silence, he marveled that heartbreak and a heart attack could feel so much alike.
"Amy," he said, voice husky with emotion. When she still refused to look at him, Orion cupped her cheek and attempted to turn her face. His gentle maneuver was met with firm resistance as his wife refused to face him. "Amy," he repeated over and over again as he kissed her cheek, her ear, buried his face in her neck. Neither her posture nor her profile softened. "Amy, you're the only woman for me. I haven't so much as looked at another woman since the day I came to your school and asked you to have dinner with me."
It had all been planned. Amaryllis had been studying abroad in Paris, already an in-demand model, when he'd shown up at her dorm under the pretext of having to spend a week in the city on business. She was on her last semester and had been making talks about remaining in the city to work. He'd spent about six months visiting her on and off; accompanying her parents to her graduation as if his bile didn't rise just being in the same room with her father; and whisking her away to exotic destinations while resisting the lure of a woman bent on being seduced. During that time, he and her father had joined forces to convince her that her place was with them in Dallas. She didn't need the money, and she already had a career here, working for Hans Solomon - the designer that had re-introduced her to the world. A ring, a promise, and six months after she'd returned to the States, Amy and Orion were married. Only the burdens of guilt and shame, and the certain knowledge that he was undeserving of her love had kept Orion from her bed. He knew that if her father hadn't blackmailed him, he would never have gone to Paris. And even if Amy had returned to Texas on her own, even if they had run into each other at society events, he would never have approached her romantically. Amy was too polite to mention it, but he'd never gotten over the fact that it was he who had first made her feel ugly. He could never have faced her with interest knowing what he had done. Though, given time, he would have fallen for her. He had fallen for her. He had fallen hard for a woman who was capable of the best kind of love.
He felt the tendons in her neck shift as she swallowed at his words. A bead of moisture landed on his hand where it still cupped her cheek. "Amy," he breathed, kissing away tears that were falling now as though that one crack in the walls she'd built around her emotions had shattered her barriers. He was able to turn her face now, drying her tears with his lips, covering her face with kisses. "I've never cheated on you, Amy. Believe me, sweetheart. I've never cheated. You are the only woman I want. I love you so very much."
Before she knew what came over her, Amy's arms wound themselves around Orion's neck. Her mascara smeared his collar and she tried to pull away and regain control of herself before she could remind him that she was truly hideous beneath the makeup. But his whispered words of love and endearment had her holding on to him again as he drew her onto his lap.
Between scattered kisses, Orion confessed everything of value to their marriage. "I love you. You are so beautiful to me, Amy. You are the light of my world. I love your heart, and your caring, and your body in those nightgowns you wear. I love that scar at the back of your knee, and that I'm the only one who knows you have it and how you got it. I love that mole on your hip." He laughed through his own tears. "I'm obsessed with it. I've spent days incapacitated by a desire to spend the rest of my life devoting all my attention to it. I love the way you sprawl across the bed when I'm getting ready to leave for work, and the scent of your perfume in a misty bathroom. I spend my nights dreaming that your hair is my blanket, and your body… Don't get me started on your body, Amy, or I'll never stop. I love that you're up and about all day. I love that I've got to drive across the city just for a glimpse of you when you're busy with someone else. I love that you let me be a man with responsibilities, and how you're both my wife and a busy woman. I love you, Amy. I love you more than anything else in this world. I love you because you have always been the most beautiful girl I know."
"I love you too, Ri. I love you because-"
He silenced her with a kiss. Whispering into her mouth, he said, "No, sweetheart. Don't say another word. Just love me because you do. I'll never get enough of knowing that you love me."
"I do, Ri. I've always loved you."
They spent long moments embracing, patting each other's cheeks, whispering nonsensical words that meant everything to their twin hearts. Kissing. Orion didn't think he'd ever take kissing his wife for granted. Like a man fresh from a drought, he drank from her lips - barely coming up from breath, preferring to perish rather than ever let her go again. For her part, Amy met his demands with abandon, shifting her head, stroking her hands through his hair. This was her first real kiss. It was not an obligatory peck. It was not a common meeting of the mouths. This was her husband, consuming her continuously as if she was the only woman in the world. As if they were meeting all over again for the very first time. As if they were starting their relationship over, in the way it should have begun.
Chapter 11
Belatedly, Orion realized that the car had stopped and that Harmond had discreetly exited the vehicle to give them some time alone. "We're home, Amy," he said against her lips, reluctant to part with her, but eager for her to see the surprise that had been keeping him out late for a year now.
"Hmm?" she asked distractedly, leaning forward for more.
"Look, baby. I want yo
u to see this." Gently, he gripped her upper arms and pulled her away. He wouldn't be a man if he didn't find soul-deep satisfaction in the dazed look on her face.
"Hm?" Amy asked, wiping covertly at her lips as she climbed from his lap. She looked through the window and froze with her hand at her mouth. "Where are we, Orion?"
"Home," he said, hope the only element in his voice. "Do you like it?"
"Home?" Amy frowned. "This is not our house."
Though the estate was enormous by modern standards, the house itself was modestly sized. It was much smaller than the mansions Amy was used to, but large enough for maybe five children. He would have given her a castle if he could, but the fact was, he wouldn't be able to afford to maintain anything larger than this for a few years once he paid off her father. And Amy literally already lived in the castle that her father had given her as a lure to bring her back to Texas. As things stood, it looked as if Orion would be able to pay back Richard Brackenridge every cent his father had stolen from him in five years instead of fifteen.
Soon after proposing to Amaryllis, Orion had returned to Dallas and contacted one of the country's top architects to create Amy's dream home. They had gone back and forth for months because he'd was unwilling to compromise on the details. Everything had to be perfect. And when they'd broken ground on the project, he had paid extra for the construction team to work overtime whenever it was possible. Orion had been obnoxiously present through every stage of construction. His late nights over the past few months were due to his efforts to personally see to the finishing touches that Amy wouldn't be able to view in the dark of night.
The house stood in the middle of a plush garden of red roses that he had planted individually. An aerial view of his declaration of love might look cheesy, but Amy would appreciate it. She'd appreciate the arbor he'd built with his own hands while dreaming of midnight trysts with her. She'd appreciate that the gleaming white marble columns that he'd imported and shipped halfway around the world were miniature replicas of those fronting the Parthenon. She'd laugh at the fact that the front steps would remind her of Machu Picchu. His personal favorite was the single white sail that made up the glass and beam roof of their bedroom. It was a stunning blend of the Sydney Opera House, and the Burj al Arab hotel in Dubai. The house was a reminder of the things he'd shared with her during their courtship. The architect, the engineer, and the contractor had tried in vain to convince him that the house would be ugly and structurally unsound. He'd returned with a demand that they build him a dream that was beautiful and structurally sound.