Beach Season (38 page)

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Authors: Lisa Jackson

BOOK: Beach Season
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She couldn’t help but smile as she twisted her hair into a loose rope and held it over her head, and off her neck. “You’re laughing at me.”
“Maybe a little.” Stepping closer, he pinned her back against the rough bark of a Douglas fir, his arms resting lightly on her shoulders. “You deserve it, too, after all that guff you gave me about that damned brass ring.”
“Guilty as charged,” she admitted. She let her hair fall free and wrapped her hands around his lean, hard waist. Even beneath his light shirt, she could feel the ripple of his muscles as he shifted.
“Good.” Taking the brass ring from his pocket, he slipped the oversized band onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said quietly, watching the ribbons flutter over her arm.
Shawna had to blink back some stupid tears of happiness that wet her lashes. “I can’t wait,” she murmured, “for the real thing.”
“Neither can I.” Placing his forehead against hers, he stared at the dimpled smile playing on her lips.
Shawna’s pulse leaped. His warm breath fanned her face, his fingers twined lazily in a long strand of her honey-gold hair and his mouth curved upward in a sardonic smile. “And now, Dr. McGuire, prepare yourself. I intend to have my way with you!” he said menacingly.
“Right here?” she asked innocently.
“For starters.” He brushed his lips slowly over hers and Shawna sighed into his mouth.
She felt warm all over and weak in the knees. He kissed her eyelids and throat and she moaned, parting her lips expectantly. His hands felt strong and powerful and she knew that Parker would always take care of her and protect her. Deep inside, fires of desire that only he could spark ignited.
“I love you,” she whispered, the wind carrying her words away as it lifted her hair away from her face.
“And I love you.” Raising his head, he stared into her passion-glazed eyes. “And tomorrow night, I’m going to show you just how much.”
“Do we really have to wait?” she whispered, disappointment pouting her lips.
“Not much longer—but we had a deal, remember?”
“It was stupid.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “And it’s been hell.” His angular features grew taut. “But weren’t you the one who said, ‘Everything meaningful is worth the wait’?”
“That’s a butchered version of it, but yes,” she said.
“And we’ve made it this far.”
“It’s been agony,” she admitted. “The next time I have such lofty, idealistic and stupid ideas, go ahead and shoot me.”
Grinning, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “I suppose this means that I’ll have to give up my mistress.”
“Your
what!”
she sputtered, knowing that he was teasing.
His mistress!
This mystery woman—a pure fantasy—had always been a joke between them, a joke that hurt more than it should have. “Oooh, you’re absolutely the most arrogant, self-centered, egotistical—”
Capturing her wrists, he held them high over her head with one hand. “Go on,” he urged, eyes slowly inching down her body, past her flashing green eyes and pursed lips, to the hollow of her throat where her pulse was fluttering rapidly, then lower still, to the soft mounds of her breasts, pushed proudly forward against apricot-colored cotton, rising and falling with each of her shallow breaths.
“—self-important, presumptuous, insolent bastard I’ve ever met!”
Lowering his head, he kissed the sensitive circle of bones at the base of her throat and she felt liquid inside. “Leave anything out?” he asked, his breath warm against her already overheated skin.
“A million things!”
“Such as?”
“Mistress,” she repeated and then sucked in a sharp breath when she felt his moist tongue touch her throat. “Stop it,” she said weakly, wanting to protest but unable.
“Aren’t you the woman who was just begging for more a few minutes ago?”
“Parker—”
Then he cut off her protest with his mouth slanting swiftly over hers, his body pressed urgently against her. He kissed her with the passion that she’d seen burning in him ever since the first time they’d met. Her back was pinned to the trunk of the tree, her hands twined anxiously around his neck, wanton desire flowing from his lips to hers.
His hips were thrust against hers and she could feel the intensity of his passion, his heat radiating against her. “Please—” she whispered and he groaned.
His tongue rimmed her lips and then tasted of the sweetness within her open mouth.
“Parker—” She closed her eyes and moaned softly.
Suddenly every muscle in his body tensed and he released her as quickly as he’d captured her. Swearing, he stepped away from her. “You’re dangerous, you know that, don’t you?” His hands were shaking when he pushed the hair from his eyes. “I—I think we’d better go,” he said thickly, clearly trying to quell the desire pounding in his brain.
Swallowing hard, she nodded. She could feel a hot flush staining her cheeks, knew her heart was racing out of control, and had trouble catching her breath. “But tomorrow, Mr. Harrison—you’re not going to get away so easily.”
“Don’t tease me,” he warned, his mouth a thin line of self-control.
“Never,” she promised, forest-green eyes serious.
Linking his fingers with hers, he pulled her toward the parking lot. “I think we’d better get out of here. If I remember correctly, we have a wedding rehearsal and a dinner to get through tonight.”
“That’s right,” she groaned, combing her tangled hair with her fingers, as they threaded their way through the cars parked in uneven rows. “You know, I should have listened to you when you wanted to elope.”
“Next time, you’ll know.”
“There won’t be a next time,” she vowed as he opened the door of his Jeep and she slid into the sweltering interior. “You’re going to be stuck with me for life!”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Once behind the wheel, he cranked open the windows and turned on the ignition.
“Even if you have to give up your mistress?”
Coughing, he glanced at her. One corner of his mouth lifted cynically as he maneuvered the car out of the bumpy, cracked field that served as a parking lot. “The things I do for love,” he muttered and then switched on the radio and shifted gears.
Shawna stared out the window at the passing countryside. In the distance, dark clouds had begun to gather around the rugged slopes of Mount Hood. Shadows lengthened across the hilly, dry farmland. Dry, golden pastures turned dark as the wind picked up. Grazing cattle lifted their heads at the scent of the approaching storm and weeds and wildflowers along the fencerows bent double in the muggy breeze.
“Looks like a storm brewing.” Parker glanced at the hard, dry ground and frowned. “I guess we could use a little rain.”
“But not tonight or tomorrow,” Shawna said. “Not on our wedding day.”
Tomorrow,
she thought with a smile. She tried to ignore the Gypsy woman’s grim prediction and the promise of rain. “Tomorrow will be perfect!”
 
“... and may you have all the happiness you deserve. To the bride and groom!” Jake said, casting a smile at his sister and holding his wineglass high in the air.
Hoisting her glass, Shawna beamed, watching her dark-haired brother through adoring eyes.
“Here, here,” the rest of the guests chimed in, glasses clinking, laughter and cheery conversation filling the large banquet room of the Edwardian Hotel in downtown Portland. The room was crowded with family and friends, all members of the wedding party. After a rehearsal marred by only a few hitches, and a lovely veal dinner, the wine, toasts and fellowship were flowing freely in the elegant room.
“How was that?” Jake asked, taking his chair.
“Eloquent,” Shawna admitted, smiling at her brother. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“That’s because you never listened to me,” he quipped, and then, setting his elbows on the table, winked at Parker. “I hope you have better luck keeping her in line.”
“I will,” Parker predicted, loosening his tie.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Shawna protested, but laughed and sipped from a glass of cold Chablis.
“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” Gerri, Shawna’s best friend, said with a smile. “I never thought I’d see this day, when someone actually convinced the good doctor to walk down the aisle.” Shaking her auburn hair, Gerri leaned back and lit a cigarette, clicking her lighter shut to add emphasis to her words.
“I’m not married to my work,” Shawna protested.
“Not anymore. But you were. Back in those days when you were in med school, you were no fun. I repeat:
No fun!”
Parker hugged his bride-to-be. “I intend to change all that, starting tomorrow!”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Shawna said, her gaze narrowing on him. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Harrison, that
you’ll
be the one toeing the line.”
“This should be good,” Jake decided. “Parker Harrison under a woman’s thumb.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Brad Lomax, Parker’s most famous student, leaned over Shawna’s shoulder, spilling some of his drink on the linen tablecloth. His black hair was mussed, his tie already lost, and the smell of bourbon was heavy on his breath. He’d been in a bad mood all evening and had chosen to drown whatever problems he had in a bottle.
“Maybe you should slow down a little,” Parker suggested, as the boy swayed over the table.
“What? In the middle of this celebration? No way, man!” To add emphasis to his words, he downed his drink and signaled to the waiter for another.
Parker’s eyes grew serious. “Really, Brad, you’ve had enough.”
“Never enough!” He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Put it on his tab!” Brad said, cocking his thumb at Parker. “This is his las’ night of freedom! Helluva waste if ya ask me!”
Jake glanced from Parker to Brad and back again. “Maybe I should take him home,” he suggested.
But Brad reached into his pocket, fumbled around and finally withdrew his keys. “I can do it myself,” he said testily.
“Brad—”
“I’ll go when I’m damned good and ready.” Leaning forward, he placed one arm around Parker, the other around Shawna. “You know, I jus’ might end up married myself,” he decided, grinning sloppily.
“I’d like to be there on the day some girl gets her hooks into you,” Parker said. “It’ll never happen.”
Brad laughed, splashing his drink again. “Guess again,” he said, slumping against Shawna.
“Why don’t you tell me about it on the way home?” Parker suggested. He helped Brad back to his feet.
“But the party’s not over—”
“It is for us. We’ve got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don’t want you so hung over that you miss the ceremony.”
“I won’t be!”
“Right. ’Cause I’m taking you home right now.” He set Brad’s drink on the table and took the keys from his hand. Then, leaning close to Shawna, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Eleven o’clock, sharp,” she replied, looking up at him, her eyes shining.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Me, neither,” Brad agreed, his arm still slung over Parker’s broad shoulders as they headed for the door. “ ’Sides, I need to talk to you, need some advice,” he added confidentially to Parker.
“So what else is new?”
“Be careful,” Jake suggested. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there—the first time in a couple months. The roads are bound to be slick.”
“Will do,” Parker agreed.
Jake watched them leave, his eyes narrowing on Parker’s broad shoulders. “I don’t see why Parker puts up with Brad,” he said, frowning into his drink.
Shawna lifted a shoulder. “You know Brad is Parker’s star student, supposedly seeded ninth in the country. Parker expects him to follow in his footsteps, make it to the top—win the grand slam. The whole nine yards, so to speak.”
“That’s football, sis. Not tennis.”
“You know what I mean.”
“He’s that good?” Obviously, Jake didn’t believe it, and Shawna understood why. As a psychiatrist, he’d seen more than his share of kids who’d gotten too much too fast and couldn’t handle the fame or money.
Leaning back in her chair, Shawna quoted, “The best natural athlete that Parker’s ever seen.”
Jake shook his head, glancing again at the door through which Parker and Brad had disappeared. “Maybe so, but the kid’s got a temper and a chip on his shoulder the size of the Rock of Gibraltar.”
“Thank you for your professional opinion, Dr. McGuire.”
“Is that a nice way of saying ‘butt out’?” Jake asked.
Shawna shook her head. “No, it’s a nice way of saying, let’s keep the conversation light—no heavy stuff, okay? I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“How could I forget?” Clicking the rim of his glass to hers, he whispered, “And I wish you all the luck in the world.” He took a sip of his wine. “You know what the best part of this marriage is, don’t you?”

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