Authors: LaVyrle Spencer
But all they saw was that sign lying in the snow down there in front of the shoe store and the back of Jesse DuFrayne disappearing up the steps into the train.
Inside, he again scooped Abbie into his arms, closing her surprised lips with his own.
"There's no place like home," he said when he had kissed her thoroughly, kicking the door shut behind them.
"Home?" she repeated, glancing around at the lush emerald green velvet interior of the car. "What is this?"
She strained to see around his head. As she turned this way and that he nuzzled her neck, for she was still in his arms and he had no intention of putting her down just yet.
"This, my darling Ab, is your honeymoon suite, especially ordered for the occasion."
What Abbie saw was no common steerage. She had never seen such luxury in her life—a massive bed covered in green velvet, an intimate dinner table set for two, a magnum of champagne in a loving cup, an ornate copper tub off to one side near an ornate pot-bellied stove, where a fire crackled, deep chairs, thick rugs.
"Jesse DuFrayne, you conniving devil! How did you get this coach to Stuart's Junction at the exact time we needed it? And quit kissing my neck as if you don't hear a word of what I'm accusing you of." But in spite of her scolding, she was giggling.
"It'll be a cold day in hell before I quit kissing your neck, Miss Abigail McKenzie, just because you order me to."
an executive coach. You ordered this car to be here. You
plan my seduction right down to the last minute!"
"Shut your precious mouth," he said, shutting it for her as the train started moving, and he strode to the oversized bed at the far end of the car, the kiss actually becoming quite slippery and misguided as the coach rocked and gained speed.
They laughed into each other's mouths, then he tossed her onto the bed, stood back, and asked, "What's first? A bath, dinner, champagne… or me?"
"How much time do we have?" she asked, already undoing her coat buttons.
"We can go all the way to New Orleans without coming up for air," he replied, that roguish grin tempting her while his eyes danced wickedly.
Taking her coat off she eyed the copper tub, the magnum of champagne, the table set for two, the window beside it where the world raced past. And the man… unbuttoning his cuffs.
"Well then, how about all four at once?" Abigail McKenzie suggested.
His eyebrows flew up, and his hands fell still momentarily before starting down the buttons on his chest.
"Well, goddamn…" muttered Jesse DuFrayne deliciously, his moustache coming at her in the most tantalizingly menacing way.
the New York Times
bestselling author of Family Blessings and November of the Heart LaVyrle Spencer
A HEART SPEAKS
NOVEMBER OF THE HEART