Not that Rafe recalled many details of the day. He had no clue as to what he’d eaten or drunk or whom he’d spoken with, although he remembered vividly a slow dance with Helen.
She had shocked everyone by dipping him.
He needed her so much. It was frightening just how important she’d become to him.
Once they’d gotten upstairs, he’d made speedy work of removing his clothes and hers and showing her too quickly on the rag carpet just inside the bedroom door how great his need for her was. Lying in the bed now, naked and sated, he wanted her again.
There was just enough light from the full moon and a dozen lit candles for him to see his new wife. Wife! He rolled the word on his tongue and said it aloud softly, “Wife.”
He saw her lips twitch with a suppressed smile. The witch was teasing him.
He wrapped a long strand of her hair around a finger and inhaled the rose scent of the soap she’d used to shampoo with earlier. Actually, he was the one who’d washed her hair and combed it dry, taking great delight in all the little aspects of readying her for their wedding.
“Are you sniffing my hair again?” she said, pretending to be half-asleep.
“Yes, is there somewhere else you’d rather I… sniff?”
She giggled and kept her eyes squeezed shut. “You are so…”
“Disgusting?”
“Adorable.”
“Adorable? Adorable? Men don’t want to be adorable,” he growled, sniffing her breasts, which also smelled like roses. I think I’ll take a couple of bars of that soap back with me. “Men want to be sexy and handsome and virile and — ”
“Stop fishing for compliments, you lech.” She peeked at him through slitted eyelids and reached for the sheet to cover herself.
“No way!” he laughed, flipping the linens to the end of the bed. “I’m not done sniffing yet.” In the course of his nasal excursion, he noticed some bruising on her forearms. His fingermarks. “Damn, did I hurt you?” he asked, leaning over to kiss each of the bluish prints.
“Do carpet burns on my tush count as hurting?” she said drolly.
He chucked her under the chin. “They’ll look good with your tattoo.”
“Hah! I don’t see you getting any wool fibers on your behind.”
“O-o-oh! Is that an invitation?”
“Oh, you!” She lifted her face and kissed his lips tenderly. The expression on her face turned more serious. “I love you so much, Rafe. No matter what happens, always know that, I love you, and I’ll never stop.”
Blood drained from his head with foreboding. “Why do you say it like that? What do you think will happen?”
“Nothing. It’s my wedding day, and we have so many important things ahead of us. The jump, for one thing. We can’t know for sure what will happen, and I just wanted you to know…”
He relaxed, but then he declared adamantly, “We’re going to be together in the future.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I married you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.” His voice came out raw and raspy with emotion. Then he grinned. “So, do you think sex will be boring now that we’re married?”
She snickered. “So far it’s been rather… quick. Hard to judge. Maybe you’d better…”
“Practice?” He moved over on top of her, spreading her thighs with his knees. “Oh, babe, I thought you’d never ask.”
Slowly and deliberately, he kissed her lips and shoulders and breasts and belly and inner thighs. Her wrists and palms. Even the soles of her feet. Over and over, he worshipped her — his wife — and between gentle kisses, he whispered love words. Some of them romantic, others dark and erotic. English and Spanish.
She moaned and whimpered and returned his throaty endearments.
“I love you, Rafe. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“You are mi corozon, my heart. I will love you till the end of time.”
He twined his fingers with hers and admired the candlelight flickering over the matching gold bands they wore. He’d secretly purchased them from Yank. Surprisingly, these gold rings meant more to him than all the gold he hoped to carry back to the future. They were his future.