Winter Roses Part 17

Ivy was nervous and delighted, all at once, as he drew her into his arms.

"I'm starving," he whispered as his mouth covered hers.

She realized quickly that he wasn't talking about food. She held on for dear life and kissed him back with her whole heart. She felt him lift her, carry her, to the long leather sofa. He put her down on it and joined her, drawing her completely against his powerful body.

She s.h.i.+vered at the sensations that rose like a flood, almost searing her as pa.s.sion consumed them both.

He ground her hips into his, groaning when she jerked and gasped into his demanding mouth. She made no protest at all when she felt his lean hands go under her blouse, against her bare skin.

"Your body is softer than silk," he breathed into her mouth. "Warm and sweet to touch. I want you, Ivy."

She wanted him, too, but they were getting in over their heads and she was an old-fas.h.i.+oned woman. She grew more nervous as his ardor increased. Helpless, she stiffened.

He hesitated, lifting his head to look down into her wide, apprehensive eyes. His own narrowed. "Yes," he whispered. "You want me. You'd give in, if I asked you to. But you don't want it to happen like this, do you?"

She swallowed, knowing she might lose him forever if she told the truth. "I...I was raised to believe that some things are still wrong even if the whole world says they're right."

She looked up at him nervously, waiting for him to get up and walk out, or just to make some sarcastic comment. He was a worldly man in his thirties. He'd said he wasn't a marrying man, and she wasn't capable of sleeping with him out of wedlock. Her heart fell to her knees. She couldn't go on living if she lost him, now. What would she do? Her eyes pleaded with his as the silence grew around them. It was, truly, the moment of truth.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

AND then, when Ivy was certain she'd lost, Stuart began to smile. It wasn't a sarcastic smile, either. He rolled over onto his side and traced patterns on her soft, swollen mouth. His s.h.i.+rt was open and her fingers were tangled in the thick hair that covered his chest. She didn't remember unfastening b.u.t.tons, but she must have. Her own blouse and bra were down around her waist.

"I told you, I don't seduce virgins," he whispered deeply.

"I remember," she whispered back.

"I do, however, marry them," he murmured against her lips.

Her eyes widened. "You want to...to marry me?"

He kissed her eyelids closed. "Of course I do," he replied huskily. "I wanted you when you were just eighteen. I've gone almost out of my mind wanting you since then, and hating myself for it. You're so young, Ivy," he told her, hugging her close. "But I can't live without you."

She clung to him, burying her face in his warm throat. "I can't live without you, either, Stuart," she confessed on a broken sob. "I love you...!"

His mouth stopped the words. He kissed her until her mouth was sore and they were both on the verge of surrender.

Whether it was by accident or by design, a loud knock at the door announced Merrie.

"Who wants cake and ice cream?" she called.

Stuart laughed. "Both of us!" he called back, winking at Ivy, who was delightfully flushed.

"Coming right up. You two coming out to get it?"

Stuart made a face. "Sure," he replied.

"Okay! Five minutes!"

Her footsteps died away.

Stuart's eyes began to glitter wickedly as he eased Ivy onto her back and slid over her. "Five whole minutes," he murmured against her soft mouth. "Let's make the best of them, sweetheart."

They did, too.

Amid plans for a big, society wedding that Ivy really didn't want, Chief Cash Grier and Sheriff Hayes Carson came to talk to Ivy. Stuart had gone out onto the ranch because there was a problem with some equipment, and Merrie was in town ordering invitations and a wedding cake.

Mrs. Rhodes led them into the living room, where Ivy was making a list of people she wanted to invite to the wedding.

"What can I do for you?" she asked them, smiling as she offered them chairs around the big, open fireplace that was blazing, cozy and warm in the large room.

"We thought you might like to know how things are going since we got Rachel's packet of information," Hayes told her.

"Would I ever!" she replied.

"It turns out that her boyfriend's main supplier was from Jacobsville," Cash Grier said. "Do you remember back last year when two of my patrol officers arrested a drunk politician and his daughter slandered me in the press?"

"Everybody remembers that," she said.

"Well, his daughter, Julie Merrill, was up to her neck in drug trafficking, along with the two commissioners who resigned from the city council and vanished."

"Julie was arrested and accused of arson for trying to burn down Libby Collins's house, wasn't she?" she replied. "And then she skipped bond and vanished, about the same time that Dominguez woman took over Manuel Lopez's old drug territory."

"Good memory, Ivy," Hayes chuckled.

"Better than mine," Cash agreed, grinning. "Anyway, we couldn't find her anyplace and, believe me, we looked. So this information Rachel left pointed to a hotel in downtown San Antonio where one of her drug-dealing boyfriend's contacts lived. Guess who the contact turned out to be?"

"Julie Merrill?!"

"The very same," Cash told her. "We've got her in custody. She's lodged in the county jail awaiting arraignment."

"Will that shut down the drug trade locally?" Ivy asked. "And what about those two councilmen?"

"They're still hiding out somewhere," Hayes drawled. "But we'll turn them up sooner or later. Meanwhile, Dominguez has a successor."

"Do you know who it is?" she asked.

Cash and Hayes glanced at each other and some silent message pa.s.sed between them. "We have an idea," Cash said. "We're working on proof. One of Cy Parks's old friends is going to help us out. He's a Mexican national with some long-held grudges."

"Rodrigo Ramirez," Ivy murmured thoughtfully.

"How do you know about him?" Cash asked suspiciously.

"I know Colby Lane's new wife, Sarina," she said. "She mentioned that Colby and Rodrigo had some, shall we say, problems during the time they were working on breaking the Dominguez case."

"Translated," Hayes said with a droll smile at Cash, "that means that Colby and Rodrigo could hardly stay in the same room together without exchanging threats of violence."

"Well, Rodrigo and Sarina had been partners for three years, after all," Cash pointed out.

"Yes, well, Colby and Sarina had been married and had a child together. Anyway," Hayes continued, "we have a lead on where Dominguez's lieutenant, who's taking over the Culebra cartel, is hiding out. Rodrigo's going to infiltrate it."

"What's Sarina going to say to that?" Ivy asked. "She and Rodrigo worked together busting up Dominguez's operation. Sarina's DEA, too, you know."

Cash chuckled. "Cobb doesn't want to let her resign. He says she can go undercover as Rodrigo's contact. Colby wants her to work for me. So do I," he added. "I only have one investigator, and it's a big county. I was hoping that she'd start right away. But Cobb offered her this peach of a case and she walked right over Colby and took it."

"Colby's really crazy about her," Ivy mentioned.

"Yes, and vice versa," Cash said. He sighed. "Well, maybe one day Colby will find a way to convince her to resign. Meanwhile, he and Bernadette hold down the fort on their ranch in Jacobsville while Sarina works nights."

"Is he still teaching tactics for Eb Scott?" she asked.

They nodded. "There was one other confession in Rachel's papers," Cash added slowly. "We thought you ought to know. She admitted that she gave Bobby Carson the drug that killed him."

Ivy's gasp was audible. She glanced at Hayes, whose face was as closed as a clam sh.e.l.l. "She confessed? But why?"

"Who knows?" Cash replied. "Maybe she had a premonition. Whatever her reason, she made amends for a lot of bad things she'd done in her life."

"Was there anything about me?" Ivy wanted to know. She hadn't even asked to read the papers, certain that they were all about drug trafficking and not about personal matters.

Cash hesitated.

"No," Hayes replied quietly. "She just noted that she guessed all her things would go to her sister at her death. It wasn't a will. She wasn't planning to die. But she knew that blackmailing drug lords is an iffy business. I guess she wanted to make the point."

Ivy felt her heart sink. She'd hoped for more than that.

"Don't lie to her," Cash said coldly. "Telling the truth is always the best way, even if it seems brutal." He looked at Ivy. "She said she'd told her boyfriend that you'd have all the blackmail information in case something happened to her."

"Dear G.o.d!" Ivy exclaimed, feeling sick.

"That wasn't necessary," Hayes said curtly.

"It was," Cash disagreed. "Mean people don't usually change, Ivy," he added. "If anything, they get meaner. She put you in the line of fire deliberately by telling Jerry Smith she'd given you the evidence."

"I'm not surprised," she said sadly. "She always hated me, from the time I was old enough to know who she was. My life was h.e.l.l when I was a child."

Hayes pursed his lips. "Not anymore," he mused. "I noticed that Merrie York was at the engravers ordering wedding invitations this morning for you and Stuart."

She burst out laughing. "There's no such thing as a secret in Jacobsville."

"d.a.m.ned straight," Cash agreed. "Are we getting invited?"

"Everybody's getting invited," Ivy replied with a smile. "I would have liked to elope, but Stuart says we're going to have all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs."

"I love weddings," Hayes said. "It's the only time I get decent cake."

"No fair," Ivy protested. "Barbara makes wonderful cakes at her cafe."

"I eat on the run, mostly," Hayes said.

"Are Jerry's friends going to come after me, when they know about Rachel's confession?" she worried.

"Not likely," Cash said with a grin. "Jerry survived his fall, against all the odds, and he's turning state's evidence. He pointed out his management-level supplier, who was picked up in New York City this morning and charged with drug trafficking. It seems this supplier had enough methamphetamine and crack cocaine in a rented, vacant apartment to qualify him for superdealer status. Federal charges," he continued, "and they carry long prison sentences. Cobb and the DEA had already picked up the ex-state senator's daughter in San Antonio, and we hear that the two ex-councilmen implicated in the scheme are trying to make it to Mexico."

"If they do, Rodrigo will push them back across the border and yell for the police," Hayes chuckled.

"I'm just glad it's over," Ivy said quietly. "It's been a long week."

"It certainly has," Hayes agreed.

Ivy wondered how he'd taken the news that Minette had never given his little brother the drugs that cost him his life. He might not believe it just yet. His vendetta against the woman had gone on for some time. Maybe he liked hating her.

They left a few minutes later, and she went back to her list.

The wedding, predictably, was the social event of the season. The church was decorated in white and red poinsettias, because it was only a few weeks before Christmas. Ivy wore a white gown with a train and a trailing veil that Stuart had bought for her at Neiman Marcus. She looked in the mirror and couldn't believe that this was her. She'd never dreamed that Stuart would want to marry her one day, when she was coc.o.o.ned in her daydreams. She smiled at her reflection, flus.h.i.+ng a little with happiness.

She walked down the aisle alone. She'd had offers from townspeople to give her away, but it seemed right to make the walk all by herself. You couldn't really give people away in these enlightened times, she'd told Stuart. If anything, she was giving herself.

Stuart stood at the beautiful arbor of poinsettias where the minister was waiting. He looked down the aisle as Ivy walked toward him and the look on his face was fascinating to her. This worldly, experienced man looked very much like a young boy on his first date. His eyes were eloquent.

She stopped beside him with her bouquet of white roses and lily of the valley and faced him shyly, with her veil draped delicately over her face, while the minister read the vows.

Finally the ring was on her finger, and on his. He lifted the beautiful lacy veil to look upon her for the first time as a bride.

"Beautiful," he whispered, as he bent to kiss her with exquisite tenderness. "Mrs. York," he added, smiling.

She beamed. She could have walked on air. She was the happiest woman in Texas, and she looked it.

Everyone in town was there. The big families, the little families, friends and acquaintances filled the church and flowed out into the yard.

"At least," she whispered to him at the reception, "n.o.body started a mixer, like they did at Blake Kemp's wedding to his Violet."

"It's early, yet," he cautioned, nodding toward a fuming Minette Raynor glaring up at a taciturn Hayes Carson.

"He doesn't believe she wasn't responsible, does he?" she mused.

"He doesn't want to believe it," he corrected. "Here, precious, take a bite of the cake so the photographer can make us immortal."

She flushed at the endearment and nibbled the white cake as the flash enveloped them. The camera captured similar exquisite moments until the happy couple finally climbed into a waiting white limousine and sped away toward the airport.

Jamaica, Ivy thought as she lay exhausted in Stuart's strong arms, was a dreamy place for a honeymoon. Not that they'd seen much of it yet. The minute the bellboy had deposited their luggage, received his tip and left the room, they'd ended up in the bed.