Mystique (12 page)

"No, my lovely wife, it's your
laugh. I haven't heard it enough. I find that I want to hear it as often as
possible."

Misty sighed. "I really like to
laugh."

"But that wistful note in your voice
tells me you don't do it often enough."

Misty didn't answer him. Her attention
was taken by the narrow, winding road that was leading them into the mountains.
"Look at all the snow!" she exclaimed. Snow had often fallen in the
area where she was raised, but it had never looked so white and sparkling.

As they rounded a curve at the top of a
driveway, the Sweetgum Inn appeared like a jewel in the snow.

"Luc, it's
perfect," Misty whispered, staring at the rough-hewn exterior that had
weathered to a deep brown. The rambling building had an open front porch, and
smoke was coming from a stone chimney.

"We'll eat here, but
we'll stay in one of the guest cottages," Luc told her, grinning at her
wide-eyed expression. He parked the car in front of the entrance.

Luc came around to her side
of the car and reached in to help her to her feet. "Like it?" he
asked.

She nodded, then pointed.
"Oh, look! Skiers." She shaded her eyes against the rays of the dying
sun and watched black dots sliding down the slopes. "I think I would like
to try," she said.

"Then we will."

"But I haven't got any
ski clothes," she pointed out as he led her up the steps to the front
door, gesturing to a bellman to carry their luggage. She gasped at the amount
of baggage being pulled out of the car. "We have a great deal for just one
night."

"Yes." He grinned
unrepentantly at her.

"You bought me
clothes," she accused as he shepherded her through the lobby. "Oooh,
it's nice." Immediately forgetting her quarrel with him, she gazed around
her, her attention caught by the knotty-pine interior of the lodge. Tables and
chairs were grouped casually throughout the spacious lobby.

"Mr. Harrison, welcome back to the
Sweetgum Inn," said the smiling desk clerk, nodding to Luc and running
curious eyes over Misty.

"My wife and I will be staying a day
or two," Luc said, signing the register.

"Your wife?" The clerk looked
momentarily discomfited. "May we at the Sweetgum Inn wish you well,
sir?"

"Thank you. We were married
today." Luc's mouth lifted at the corners as he glanced at a blushing
Misty. "I'd like some ski attire sent to our cabin for my wife. Size six
in clothing, size seven in boots."

"Of course, sir." The man bowed
slightly and signaled to a bellman.

Misty stopped often on her way to the
guest cottage to gaze, fascinated, at the skiers coming down the mountain and
at the powdery snow that covered the trees and crunched under their feet.

Luc put his arm around her and hurried
her along. "Come on. Your feet will get cold."

The bellman opened the door of their
cottage, which was actually a small bungalow. It had a bedroom, living room,
kitchen, and dining area, plus a picture window that looked out over the
mountains.

"Oh, a fire in the fireplace."
Misty sighed as Luc removed her fur coat, then sat her down to remove her
shoes and rub her feet. He tipped the bellman and came back to her as she sat
on the low couch in front of the roaring blaze.

"It's beautiful, Luc."

"I've never stayed in this cottage
before, because I thought it was too big for just me."

"You and your stable of women,"
Misty heard herself say tartly in a voice she didn't recognize as her own.

Luc turned toward her, his
eyes searing into her. "There's no need to be jealous about my past,
darling. I'm not jealous of yours."

"Neither am I," she
shot back, coming to a ramrod straight position on the overstuffed couch.
"I... I have never discussed Leonard or Richard with you."

"Now is not the time," Luc
said, throwing his suit jacket toward a chair, not noticing when it fell to the
floor. He loosened his tie and jerked it off. "We'll have plenty of time
to talk, darling. The rest of our lives, in fact. But right now I want to love
you, to show you how I feel. I want you to know how much I need you."

Misty's heart began pounding
as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his powerful shoulders.

CHAPTER FIVE

In the next instant Luc
lifted her into his arms and carried her to the spacious bedroom decorated in
peach and brown tones. Sudden shyness overcame her as he placed her on the
peach-colored bedspread covering the king-sized bed. She felt her face redden.
Something about making love with Luc embarrassed her. Sex with Richard and
Leonard had been a mechanical act that didn't involve her mind and spirit. But
she knew instinctively that Luc would demand all of her, heart and soul. The
idea of such total intimacy with him made her flush with both reluctance and
anticipation as he followed her down onto the bed, pressing her into the firm
mattress.

He quizzically regarded the heightened
color in her face. "Mrs. Harrison, do you mind that I'm going to undress
you?"

"No," she whispered. But I do
mind, an inner voice shouted. With Richard and Leonard she'd always undressed
in the bathroom, and she'd worn a robe until she climbed into bed. With them,
sex had been an obligation, and not a completely comfortable one...

"Good, because I'm going to enjoy
this, my sweet," Luc murmured. "And so are you." His voice was
thick as he peeled the pantyhose down her legs. "You know, my love, I
think I'm going to buy you some underthings with garters. I saw some in Saks
that would be perfect for you." He lifted her hips and slid the skirt down
her body. "Ummm, pretty panties." He kissed the silken briefs,
pressing his open mouth to her pelvic area in a caress that awakened a slow
throbbing.

Misty gasped, and her body moved
involuntarily in surprise at his tender loving. No one had ever kissed her
like that! She was stunned. A tingling sensation began in her hands and feet as
Luc raised her to a sitting position and removed her cream-colored jacket and
the frilly blouse with the lace jabot.

"Pretty bra, darling." He ran a
gentle finger around the embroidered edge. "Did I buy you this one?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly as
he reached down and unfastened the tiny clip between her breasts. His mouth
followed his hand, his arm supporting her arching back. Her hands came up to
grasp his hair, her fingers threading through the thick locks.

"You're so sweet, wife of
mine." Luc lifted her up against his body with ease, suspending her with
one arm, taking her breast more fully into his mouth and with infinite tenderness
sucking slowly, sweetly.

"Luc!" Misty cried out, her
hands clenching in his hair, her eyes closing as hot, pulsing sensations seared
through her. "What... what..." She tried to speak, but her mouth
couldn't form the words.

"Shhh, my angel. Let me
love you." Luc's hoarse words sent a thousand tiny electrical charges over
her skin, like lightning bouncing off mountaintops. He pressed her down, down
onto the peach coverlet. "Let me cover you..."

"I'm warm," Misty
said with a gasp. "I don't need any covers." Her hands slid free of
him, her fingers clutching air as he stepped away to remove his trousers and
briefs. Her body tingled with delight as she stared up at him—at the thicket of
chestnut hair that arrowed down his body, the color a surprising contrast to
the ash blond locks on his head. Her sisters would describe him as a hunk.
Misty thought giddily. His legs were long and muscular, his shoulders broad
and powerful. At this moment he looked every inch the athlete Aileen had said
he was. Misty reached for him again.

"Easy, darling, I'm not leaving
you," he crooned, stretching out at her side.

"I love your hair," she
whispered, reaching again for his head, her fingers spreading and closing in
delight at touching him.

"Good. I love everything about
you," he murmured back, sliding his mouth down her body, touching every
inch, caressing every curve, exploring every intimate crevice. His mouth traveled
lower and lower, and then he was touching the very core of her desire, setting
off a kaleidoscope of overwhelming feelings. Her blood seemed to turn to molten
lava in her veins. She trembled and writhed in uncontrollable passion.

"Shhh, darling. I'm loving
you."

"Ohhh..." She pulled his hair,
impatient with him, but he merely chuckled against her skin. She pulled harder,
and he inched upward until they were touching lips to lips. "I didn't
realize," she whispered, awed.

"I know, my treasure." He
pressed her thighs farther apart and positioned himself over her. "I'm
glad, because I want to be your first real lover." He pushed himself
gently into her.

His heart was pounding against hers. Her
breath was coming in staccato gasps as the tempo between them increased. Never
had Misty been an eager participant, but now she clasped her lover and held him
tight. Together they soared, higher and higher, until the world exploded,
flinging them up to the stars, around the sun, and gently back down to earth.

For long moments afterward they held each
other tightly. Gradually their breathing slowed, their glistening bodies
relaxed.

"Does anyone know about this but
us?" Misty whispered up at Luc, her eyelids drooping.

"About what, Mystique?" He
nibbled at her neck. "About... about lovemaking?"

Luc chuckled and raised himself on one
elbow to look down at her. "I doubt it," he teased. "Shall we
make it our secret?"

"Yes!" But her laughter
vanished as his grin faded. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like
that?"

"I told you before, I love to hear
you laugh."

"I feel like laughing. In fact, I
wish we had a piano so I could play and we could sing." Feeling sleepy,
she burrowed her nose into his neck.

"Going to sleep on me?"

"Yes," she admitted with a tiny
smile.

"I forgot to tell you that that was
only the beginning. I intend to make love to you all night." He took her
earlobe between his teeth.

"Wonderful. Don't start without
me," she muttered, yawning.

"Don't worry, I won't." He
chuckled again. "I've never laughed quite so much either, my little
wife," he whispered, pulling her closer to him and closing his eyes.

In the night Misty dreamed again. She saw
her father coming toward her, ever closer. But when she called out, Luc was
there, and her father vanished in an instant. She sank deeper into sleep.

Later, Misty smiled, her eyes closed, as
she felt soft kisses on her neck and face. "Luc," she murmured.

"Yes, my darling wife, it's
Luc," he murmured gently.

She felt his mouth move lower, caressing
her breasts and arms. Her body wriggled in response, but still she didn't open
her eyes. She had the irrational feeling that, if she looked, Luc wouldn't
really be there, and that she would find that she had only imagined the ecstasy
of their wedding night. Beautiful, wondrous emotions had cascaded over her. It
would be terrible to wake up and find he had been just a figment of her
imagination. But once again he proved his existence with the reality of his
lovemaking.

His hands coursed down one side of her
body and began working their way up the other. He gently bit each toe. His
mouth massaged each kneecap. He nuzzled her thighs with his mouth in a tender
quest. He kissed her arms, her fingertips, and the crook of each elbow with
special loving attention. He was nibbling her chin when she opened one eye.

"Don't be a ghost, Luc," she
whispered. "I'm not," he assured her. "Open both your eyes, Mystique."

"All right." She opened them
and sighed. He wasn't a ghost; he was real. With a deep, shuddering breath she
touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"Do you mind if I continue to enjoy
my breakfast?" he teased with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Am I sunny-side up?" She
smiled at him. Then she felt herself being lifted and turned over, face down in
the pillow.

"Now you're sunny-side up, angel.
Ummm, how luscious." Luc nipped at her backside, his open mouth gentle on
her scars. He explored her back from her neck to her ankles, setting her on
fire.

When he turned her over once again to
enter her body, Misty was ready for him, eager to be swallowed by the hot,
piercing rhythm they created together.

They strove mightily to give the other
the utmost satisfaction, and once again the world exploded. They lay close
together, open mouth on open mouth, their eyelids fluttering, their breath
mingling.

"My goodness." Misty gazed
lovingly at her husband. "That was more powerful than anything on
earth."

"Yes." His brown eyes were
somber for a moment; then he smiled and rolled from the bed to pull her to her
feet. "Let's take a shower."

"Together?" Misty asked,
recalling how Leonard had always insisted on having the bathroom first, leaving
her to clean up after him.