Joan Hohl - A Man Apart

“Long, hot nights on smooth, cool sheets.”

At last the wedding day arrived. The candlelight ceremony was scheduled for six, with the reception following immediately at the hotel.

To Hannah’s amazement, after the nervous fits Maggie had suffered the day before, her friend had been calm and remained so throughout the day.

Although she revealed not the slightest hint of it, Hannah felt like the basket case she had expected Maggie to be. Of course, her inner jitters had nothing whatever to do with her encounter with Justin in the parking lot, she kept telling herself.

Yeah. Right.

So stunned had she been by Justin’s blatant suggestion-suggestion, heck, it was an outright declaration of intent-Hannah retained only a vague memory of him, chuckling softly as he walked her to her car. And, darn it, how had he been so surefooted, when he’d been wearing heeled boots, too?

“Time to dress,” Maggie happily announced, ending Hannah’s brooding introspection.

At last. At last. Hannah smiled, nodding her agreement. She was of two minds about the coming hours; relieved at finally getting it over with, and filled with conflicting amounts of trepidation and anticipation, more of the latter than the former.

Calling herself all kinds of a ditz didn’t do a thing to calm down her seesawing emotions.

One thing was for certain. Hannah was determined there would be no slipping on black ice. At her advice, both she and Maggie wore low-heeled winter boots and carried their fancy wedding shoes in shoe bags. At least they didn’t have any concerns about holding up their dresses out of the slushy mess, as both garments were cocktail length. Maggie’s dress was a simple and elegant, long-sleeved white velvet, with a nipped-in waist and full skirt. She looked both innocent and gorgeous.

Hannah’s dress was as simple and elegant-a sheath with three-quarter-length sleeves and a modest neckline.

They arrived at the church with five minutes to spare until show time. Apparently everyone else, including the groom, was already in place. Karla and Adam were waiting in the small foyer. Adam took their coats, and Karla handed them their bouquets. Maggie’s was made of white orchids. Hannah’s bouquet was the same as Karla’s, a mix of dark-red rosebuds with lacy ferns and delicate white baby’s breath.

Now Hannah knew why Maggie had insisted she hunt down a dress in forest green. Hers was only a shade darker than Karla’s.

Music from the organ filled the church.

Flashing Maggie an encouraging smile, Karla stepped out, heading down the aisle. Offering her own smile to the bride, while drawing a calming breath for herself, Hannah followed two steps behind Karla.

And there he was, standing beside Mitch, looking devastating in a white shirt, somber tie and dark suit that was fitted perfectly to his wide-shouldered, narrow-waisted, long-legged body.

As she drew nearer, Hannah lowered her gaze, fully expecting to find black slant-heeled boots. Surprise, surprise. Justin was actually shod in classic black men’s dress shoes.

When she raised her eyes, her gaze collided with his smoldering stare.

Good grief! The man was a menace. Hannah felt hot. She felt cold. She felt exhilarated. She felt exhausted. In short, she felt like a woman fiercely physically attracted to a man. A man who didn’t so much as attempt to hide his intention from her.

Unaware of the ceremony going on about her, she automatically received Maggie’s bouquet.

Her heart pounding, her pulse racing, finding it increasingly difficult to think straight, Hannah almost completely missed the exchange of vows.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

The firm, clear sound of Mitch’s voice broke through Hannah’s mental fog. She blinked, and just caught the movement of Justin handing Mitch a plain gold ring.

Her cue. Releasing a soft sigh of relief for coming to her senses in time, Hannah slipped a larger matching gold band from her thumb, just as Maggie repeated the vow.

Moments later Mitch kissed Maggie, to the applause of the guests, and it was over. They were married.

Hopefully, till death did them part, Hannah thought, frowning as she saw Justin take Adam’s place in line, leaving his older brother to escort Karla.

What was the devil up to now? Steeling herself, she took Justin’s arm to follow the newlyweds down the aisle to the church foyer.

“Your place or mine?” Justin murmured, his eyes glittering with a positively wicked gleam of amusement.

He knew. Damn the man, he knew exactly how she was feeling, what she was feeling, as if the word ready had magically appeared branded on her forehead in capital letters.

“I don’t have a place here,” Hannah muttered, riveting her gaze on the back of Maggie’s head. “My place is hundreds of miles from here, in Pennsylvania.”

He chuckled.

Hannah cringed, covering it with a tight smile as she hugged first Maggie, then Mitch, wishing them good luck before turning to stand beside Mitch to form the greeting line. Not daring to so much as glance into Justin’s eyes again, she stood stiff, staring directly ahead. It didn’t do her a bit of good, as he continued to torment her in that low, deep, nerve-rattling sexy voice.

“My permanent place is not as far away. In Montana,” he murmured, his head so close to hers she felt his warm breath caress her ear. “But I have a temporary place here, as I know you do. Conveniently, both places are at the very same location, that beautiful old Victorian house.”

Hannah was genuinely shocked. “Maggie’s apartment? I…I couldn’t, wouldn’t dream of it!” she softly protested, suddenly realizing she had not said no to him, but rather to meeting him at Maggie’s adorable little flat on the third floor.

“Of course not,” he agreed, drawing her startled gaze just as he smiled at Karla who settled in line next to him. His eyes still gleamed with a sinful light. “But I haven’t the least hesitation in using the roomier apartment on the first floor for some fun and games.”

Fun and games. The overused expression, following the tired line of your place or mine, didn’t sound as worn-out and dated coming from Justin’s sensuous mouth. Truth be told, the soft invitation sounded much too tempting.

At a loss for a coherent retort, Hannah felt a wave of relief as she turned her head to find the first of the guests, Justin’s parents, who were laughing and crying and hugging Maggie and Mitch in turn.

Justin merely lowered his head closer to her, his whispered words tickling her inner ear and every nerve ending in her body. “I’ll be moving in for a couple of days tomorrow, right after Karla and Ben vacate.”

Hannah had to suppress a visible tremor as his tongue swiftly speared into her ear.

“Feel free to visit at anytime…day or night,” he murmured, increasing the tremor a hundredfold. “Come early…and often-” he chuckled at her quick, indrawn breath, “-and stay late…like a couple of days.”

Thank goodness, at that moment Justin’s father swept her into a celebratory embrace, as she found it difficult to pull a comeback from her mush of gray matter. The man was nearly as tall as his three sons, but not as strong as them, and not nearly as ruggedly handsome as Justin-darn his too-attractive hide.

His mother, a lovely woman, and almost as tall as Hannah took her hands and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful in that dress, Hannah,” she said, delicately dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Both of you do, you and Karla.”

“Why, thank you,” Hannah responded, lowering her head to kiss the older woman’s still smooth cheek. She had liked Mrs. Grainger from their first meeting. “Maggie picked the color. She insisted I search until I found the perfect dress.”