Breathless(71)
“You look so gorgeous, Kent’s going to want to eat you with a spoon.”
A soft knock interrupted them. It was Eddy. She was dressed in a resplendent mauve gown that she wore as if she were royalty. When she looked at Portia tears welled in her eyes. “Oh my. Look how beautiful you are.”
Regan wiped at her own tears. “Aunt Eddy, stop. You’ll have us all weeping in a minute.”
“But look at her,” she said again.
Tears stung Portia’s eyes. “You look beautiful, too.”
“Thank you. I just came in to tell you the guests have arrived and your uncle Rhine’s waiting out in the hallway. When you’re ready, just come out.”
Eddy kissed Portia’s cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She kissed Regan’s cheek, too. “I love you, too, and you can’t get married for at least twenty more years. I won’t know what to do if I lose both of my girls.”
Eddy left wearing a watery smile and when the sisters were alone again, they shared a guilty look. Regan said, “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Thanks for your help.”
Regan gave her a wink and was gone.
Refusing to let her worry about Regan rise again, Portia drew in a deep breath, picked up her bouquet of wildflowers, and stepped out into the hallway.
Her uncle Rhine, clad in formal black and white attire, said, “You look very beautiful, Portia.”
Butterflies were taking flight in her stomach. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready to get married?”
“Yes.”
He gallantly offered his arm and escorted her away.
When Portia appeared on Rhine’s arm, she was so beautiful it made Kent ache. He’d never experienced such a sensation before. He wanted to hand out blindfolds to every man in attendance and demand they be tied on so he’d be the only who could see her. Her hair was up, and she wore a light application of face paint that made her cat-eyed features even more alluring. Beside him, his father Oliver whispered, “You have a gorgeous bride, Kenton.”
Kent thought the word didn’t even come close to describing his duchess.
Rhine walked her to Kent’s side and after placing a kiss on her brow, stepped aside to stand with the teary-eyed Eddy. Kent took her hand in his. He looked down, met her shining eyes, and he was so happy inside he wanted to kick up his heels and yell “Hot damn!” With the sober-faced Reverend Cordell standing before them, Bible in hand, he decided that was probably inappropriate, so he calmed himself and prepared to recite the vows.
The vows were recited, the marriage sealed and blessed, and Reverend Cordell said to Kent, “You may now kiss your bride.”
Their kiss was met with much hooting and hollering and applause from the large crowd. When he finally turned her loose and they faced the people who’d gathered, he said in a voice only she could hear, “Now, everybody go the hell home so I can make love to my wife.”
She giggled, elbowed him gently and said, “Behave.”
The reception took place in the ballroom and the Fontaine Hotel and its staff did the newlyweds proud. There was enough food to feed the entire territory and the champagne flowed like waterfalls. There was music, dancing, and many toasts. Matt got so drunk off two flutes of champagne, Regan found him asleep outside beneath one of the tables. Kent remarked that his assistant foreman couldn’t hold his pie or his liquor. As evening arrived and the sun went down, Portia was glad she and Kent were married, but after all the celebrating her feet were hurting, she was hot and tired, and all she wanted to do was take off her gown and crawl into bed. Eddy walked over. “You look exhausted. It’s okay if you and Kent want to leave.”
“We can?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, thank you.”
A multitude of raucous guests escorted Portia and Ken to the cottage. After opening the door, he scooped her up in his arms to carry her over the threshold and they roared their approval. Grinning, he turned to them and said, “Thank you and good night.”
He carried her inside and kicked the door closed. On their way to the bedroom, the cheering outside could still be heard, but as they entered it, only silence remained. She looked up into the eyes of her husband and said, “Finally we’re alone.”
“Finally.” And he gently set her on her feet.
“A few minutes ago my feet were hurting, I was hot and tired, and all I wanted was to take off this dress and crawl into bed.”
“And now?”
“I still want to take off this dress and crawl into bed, but with you.”
“Perfect answer—partially.”
She was confused. “What do you mean?”
“I get to take off your dress.”
She laughed. “Will you always be this outrageous?”
“As long as we’re both breathing.” He ran a slow thumb down her cheek. “Thank you for marrying me.”
Her heart swelled with all the love she had for her outrageous cowboy. “You’re welcome.”
Their wedding night began with a series of lazy lingering kisses that were as familiar as they were welcome. In spite of the day’s heat and the discomfort, they’d both been waiting for this moment for a long time. After tonight, she’d be a woman in every sense of the word.