Epilogue

“THANK YOU FOR planning such a gorgeous wedding,” Harding said to his equally gorgeous wife. In following what was starting to be a Trident team tradition, they’d held a destination wedding on the U.S. Virgin Island of St. John.

As much as he’d loved having the whole gang together and seeing Dude and Shirley once again healthy, more than anything, he couldn’t wait to consummate their vows.

In a waterfront bungalow overlooking moonlit Coral Bay, he turned out the bedroom lights, opened the lanai’s double doors, then kissed a slow trail from the base of her throat to her lips. “I need to get you out of that dress.”

“I thought you loved my dress.”

“I do. But I will appreciate it even more once it’s off you and slung over the back of that chair.” He nodded toward a corner chaise lounge. “Turn around.”

She did. After unbuttoning her white lace confection of a gown, he swept the backs of his fingers along her spine, then slid the garment past her shoulders. It fell with a whisper, pooling onto the floor. She wore no bra and a lacy white scrap for panties. The sight of her drenched in moonlight combined with the knowledge that she was now forever his, made him the happiest man alive. Sweeping more kisses along her shoulders and the back of her neck, he said in a throaty whisper, “I love you, Mrs. Breslow.”

She spun around, pressing her hands to his chest. On her tiptoes, she kissed his lips. “Not as much as I love you, Mr. Breslow.”

He ached to be inside her but wanted their first time as husband and wife to be extra slow. Extra perfect.

Tugging the knot of his bowtie, she freed him of it, then started undoing the buttons on his shirt. With his chest bare, she came in close for another kiss, in the process brushing her hard nips against his abs, making it a superhuman effort to hold back.

“You do know you’re killing me?” he said for the record.

“That was the plan. Death by seduction.” Their mouths met in a slow, breathy kiss. She teased him with bold strokes of her tongue, mimicking the motion he craved much lower.

He dropped his hand to her panties, fingering her through the lace.

She groaned, raising her left foot onto the bedrail. She still wore white satin heels, which only made her legs longer and hotter.

“Like that?” He slipped a finger under the lace, rubbing her until she came.

“Um hmm . . .” Her hands worked off his belt, then unbuttoned his slacks and unlatched the zipper. In one sweep, she dragged down his pants and boxers. “Poor baby . . .” Petting his throbbing cock, strumming the tip with her thumb, she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help this little guy feel better?”

“Little?” Harding let loose with a playful growl. “That’s it. I tried being patient, but playtime is over.” Kicking free of his pants and shoes, he gave her a light push toward the bed, nudging her back far enough so he could feast on her full breasts.

She twined her arms around his neck, drawing him up for more kisses.

He worked her panties free, but they got stuck on her heels. “Good Lord,” he complained. “You didn’t make me work for it this hard on our third date.”

“That’s because I was in a string bikini.”

“Oh yeah.” He kissed the gentle swell of her belly and lower to her mound. “Why couldn’t you get married in that?” He spread her legs, doing tricks with his tongue that soon had her moaning too loud to give him an answer.

By the time she’d come for the second time, Harding’s patience was shot. They’d agreed to start trying for a baby and tonight marked the first time he’d be inside her without a condom. He couldn’t wait. So he didn’t, plunging inside her again and again, framing her dear face with his hands, kissing her, worshiping her, loving her more with each stroke until the pleasurable pressure grew to be more than he could bear. Spilling inside her, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you. Think we made a baby?”

“I love you.” She giggled. “And I hope so. Plus, I’m already hungry. Think that’s a good sign?”

“Absolutely.” He kissed her again, ready for a second round.

His cell rang.

“Harding . . .” Her tone spoke volumes about how much trouble he was in. “I told you to turn off your phone. You’ve ruined so many honeymoons that your entire team is out for revenge. I’m sure this is nothing more than a prank.”

“You’re right. But I have to answer—just in case.”

“Whatever.” She rolled out from under him, slipped on a robe, then headed for the kitchen. “Want a sandwich?”

“Yes, please. Then I want more of you!” He swiped to answer his cell. “Harding.”

“Hey, boss.”

“Sawyer. This had better be a practical joke.”

“Sorry, man. Wish it was. I just got off the line with a friend of mine in Denver—Jesse Knight. He and his brothers run a similar operation to our own. But they’re swamped and asked if I’d mind taking on a case. It’s a different from our norm, but . . .”

“How different?” Harding sat up in the bed. “What kind of issue are we talking?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Sawyer?”

“Sorry, boss. This one’s going to be tough for me. It centers around my high school girl. She and her barrel racing friends are being stalked by a serial killer.”