Chapter 12 #2
Casey quickly took her seat, quite out of place beside a riverboat gambler and an old-fashioned southern belle.
Erica glared. Leave it up to Casey. “I swear, little sister, whatever you do tonight, don’t bend over. You’ll positively spill out of that disreputable thing you are wearing.”
Miles grinned, for once taking Casey’s side instead of his twin’s. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Erica. Even if she is our sister, she looks rather stunning.”
Erica sniffed. “You would say that. After all, you’re just a man.”
The glass door slid open behind Casey’s head. Ryder’s voice drifted out into the uneasy silence. “Buckle up.”
“Have mercy,” Erica shrieked, and grabbed for a seat belt as the limo took off, leaving a black streak of rubber to show where it had been.
Miles needed no warning. He was already strapped and waiting for takeoff when the limo accelerated. He’d ridden with this man before.
Casey laughed aloud, then blew Ryder a kiss as he turned onto the highway. Tonight was just about perfect.
* * *
Of the guests who’d come in full costume to Libertine’s party, nine were in Rebel gray.
Of those nine, only Lash Marlow wore the uniform of a southern general, and he wore it with pride.
His great-great-grandfather Marlow had been a general during the War of Northern Aggression.
It seemed fitting that he carry out the tradition, if only for the night.
But his pride in the past died a humiliating death when the Ruban party arrived.
His gaze went past Miles and Erica Dunn.
They were Rubans by marriage only. In the grand scheme of things, and blood being thicker than water, it was Casey who counted.
But when he saw her and then the man at her side, it was all he could do to stay quiet.
How dare she flaunt what she’d done to him?
Libertine Delacroix, who for tonight had dressed as Lady Liberty, was speechless for all of twenty seconds when she saw them, and then broke into peals of laughter.
“Casey, darlin’, I should have known you’d outshine us all. And just look at this man on your arm! Introduce me this instant, you hear?”
Casey grinned. “Libby, this is my husband, Ryder Justice. Ryder, my very dear friend, Libertine Delacroix.”
Libertine held out her hand. Ryder took it, then lifted it to his lips. “I’m real partial to liberated women, Mrs. Delacroix. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Libertine giggled at his play of words on her costume and name. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure,” she drawled, then slipped her hand beneath his elbow. “Come along, you two. There’s a ton of people who are just dyin’ to meet you.”
“I’ll just bet,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Casey pinched his arm. He looked down and winked at her.
“You promised to be nice,” she warned.
“No, I didn’t. I just promised to come.”
She laughed at the sparkle in his eyes. Dear Lord, but she loved this man, so much that sometimes it scared her. She threaded her fingers through his, content for tonight to follow his lead.
* * *
An oblong silver tray glittered beneath the lights of the chandelier in the great hall as the wedding gifts were unwrapped before the guests.
Crystal sparkled, fine china gleamed. Lash stood among the crowd, oohing and aahing along with them as each new piece was put up on display, and all the while, the idea he’d been fostering took deeper root in his mind.
Damn her—and him. He stared at the tall man in the chauffeur’s uniform and resented him for not being ashamed.
How can he hold his head high? By wearing that ridiculous costume, he’d all but announced to the world that he was nothing but hired help.
Yet when Ryder casually tucked a wayward curl on Casey’s forehead back beneath the rabbit ears she was wearing, Lash’s stomach rolled.
The look she gave him made gorge rise in his throat.
Damn her to hell. She never looked at me like that.
And that hurt, more than he was able to admit.
Out on the patio behind him, the band Libertine had hired was setting up to play. The thought of making small talk and pretending for another two or three hours seemed impossible to Lash, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
Unaware of Lash’s growing antagonism, Casey undid the bow on the very last gift and then lifted the box lid, pulling out a crystal-and-silver ice bucket and tongs.
“It won’t hold a six-pack, but it sure is pretty,” Ryder drawled.
Casey grinned at him as everyone laughed.
By now, the guests had figured out that Casey Ruban’s husband had been one jump ahead of them all night.
Instead of trying to be something he wasn’t, he dared them to dislike who he was.
They had tried and failed miserably. Ryder Justice was too intriguing to dislike and too handsome to ignore.
“This has been wonderful,” Casey said. “Ryder and I thank you for your kindness and generosity.”
Ryder took Casey by the hand and stood. “All kidding aside, it’s been a pleasure meeting my wife’s friends. Maybe one day we can return the favor.”
Casey was surprised at his initiative, and more than a little bit pleased. He kept coming through for her, again and again.
Libertine waved her hand above the crowd. “This way, this way, my dears. We’ve dined. We’ve showered. The evening can’t end without dancing.”
The crowd followed her through open French doors and out onto a massive flagstone patio. People broke off into couples and soon the impromptu dance floor was crowded.
Inside, Casey wound her arms around Ryder’s neck and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Hoppy, are you tired?”
She tried not to laugh, but his jest was entirely too charming to ignore.
“Yes, but deliciously so.” His hands were stroking at the small of her back, right where it ached the most. She wondered how he knew.
“Think you might have one good dance in you? I just realized I’ve never danced with my wife.”
“If you don’t mind dancing with a barefoot bunny, I’d be delighted.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “It can happen. I like bare.”
She ran a finger down the middle of his chest, stopping just above the spot where his belly button would be. “Yes, I know.”
He waited. She kicked off her shoes. He took her in his arms just as the next song began. Drums hammered out a rollicking beat and a guitarist joined in, running his fingers up and down the frets as the strings vibrated beneath his touch.
“Oh darn,” Casey said. “It’s too fast.”
Ryder took her hand and placed it in the center of his chest. “You’re listening to the wrong rhythm,” he said softly. “Feel the one in here. It’s the one to follow.”
He glanced down at her feet. “I’d sure hate to mash one of those poor little toes. Better hitch a ride on my boots, honey, then all you’ll have to worry about is hanging on.”
A lump came to Casey’s throat as she stepped up on his toes.
Sure enough, when Ryder started to move, she could almost hear the slow, steady beat of a loving man’s heart.
The ache in her feet disappeared. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and followed his lead as he circled them slowly up and down the marbled floors of Libertine Delacroix’s great hall.
Out on the patio, Lash Marlow stood in the shadows, staring back into the house. The intimacy of the lady bunny standing on the chauffeur’s feet was not lost on him, nor were the tender kisses he saw Ryder giving his wife.
Lash’s hand slid to the long sword hanging from the belt around his waist. It would be all too easy to draw it now while everyone was otherwise occupied and slash those stupid smiles off of both their faces, but that wouldn’t get him what he deserved.
No, he had other plans for Casey, and it wouldn’t be long before he set them in motion.
* * *
Bunny ears hung on one corner of the bedpost, a chauffeur’s cap on the other. Clothing was strewn across the floor and the chairs. In the bed, Ryder and Casey slept as bare as the day they’d been born, entwined within each other’s arms.
Outside, a wind began to blow. A cool front was moving in. Something clattered against the patio door leading onto the deck. Ryder shifted in his sleep and rolled onto his back as he fell deeper and deeper into the dream playing out in his head.
Lightning flashed and the plane bucked. Seconds afterward, smoke began filling the cabin. There was a whine to the engines as the plane began to lose altitude. Ryder pulled back on the stick, fighting the pull of gravity with all of his strength.
“God help us both,” Micah said.
Ryder jerked, his head tossing on the pillow from side to side. He hadn’t remembered hearing his father’s voice—until now.
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the horizon and the tops of a stand of trees, but Ryder was hardly aware.
It was all he could do to see the instrument panel through the thick veil of smoke.
Muscles in his arms began to jerk from the stress of trying to control the plane’s rapid descent, and still he would not let go.
Yet no matter how hard he fought, it would not respond.
“I love you, boy.”
Tears seeped from beneath Ryder’s lashes and out onto the surface of his cheeks.
I love you, too, Dad.
One of the windows in the cockpit shattered. Smoke dissipated at an alarming rate. Visibility cleared, and then Ryder wished it had not. There was at least half a second’s worth of time to see that they were going to die.
He sat up with a jerk, gasping for air, unaware that his cheeks were wet with tears.
“Oh, God.”
He rolled out of the bed and reached for his jeans. He had to get out. He had to move. He couldn’t breathe.