“My little chapel will be perfect, chérie.” He touched up her lipstick. “They’re very accommodating and not prejudiced at all. Chris and I are having our commitment ceremony there.”
“Chad and I will be back for that in a couple months, I promise.” She pressed her lips together and Dominic blotted them on a hanky. “How is he doing, by the way?”
“Chris is attending to your cowboy, now.”
Catie laughed. “I bet Chad is seriously uncomfortable with that.”
“Probably.” Dominic joined in the laughter. “But no one knows men’s fashion like Chris. Your homme will look magnifique. I have to tell you, Caitlyn, he is scrumptious.”
“That he is.” She slapped Dom’s hand playfully. “And he’s all mine.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m mad about Chris. I’ve never gone for the Alpha cowboy type.” He sighed. “They are nice to look at, though.”
“They certainly, are,” Catie agreed.
Dominic grasped Catie’s shoulders, and his gaze met hers. “Tell me, Caitlyn, that this is what you want. This man.”
She nodded. “He’s what I want, Dom. He’s all I’ve ever wanted. Since I was a little kid. And now he wants me, too.” She rubbed her tummy, a sway of sadness waving over her. “I wish I hadn’t lost our baby. But we’ll have more. A whole slew of ’em, Chad says.” She smiled. “My mama had several miscarriages between Harper and me. That’s why there’s such a difference in our ages.”
“It is common, chérie. Come,” he said, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm. “It is time to walk you down the aisle.”
* * *
She was a vision. A goddess. Chad’s pulse raced as Catie drifted toward him, veiled in gossamer cream. She clutched Dominic’s arm tightly. Next to him stood Christian, blond and dressed to the nines, as though he’d stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine.
Catie flashed a radiant smile as Dominic handed her off to him. Chad leaned down and kissed her cheek, inhaling her fresh, clean aroma. Raspberries. God, how he’d missed her.
No wedding night tonight. She had to heal from the miscarriage. How would he cope? He smiled to himself. He’d cope. He’d wait. His gorgeous Caitlyn Bay McCray, whom he loved more than life itself with a passion he never knew existed, was well worth it.
Besides, she’d promised to take care of him. His tuxedo trousers tightened as he imagined those ruby lips touching all his intimate places.
He should wait for her. A gentleman would. A gentleman would hold her and let her know she meant the world to him, and that he’d wait to make love until she could be a full participant.
Course as he’d told her on many an occasion, he was no gentleman.
Continue The Temptation Saga with Book Four: Taming Angelina
Continue the The Temptation Saga with Book Four
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Keep reading for an excerpt!
Chapter One
Long black lashes fringed eyes like perfect emeralds. Cheeks shimmered the color of the palest pink rose. Dark hair hung in two ponytails on either side of an oval face. The red-and-white gingham blouse tied below round breasts—with just a touch of cleavage showing—screamed country girl. The Daisy Dukes, long shapely legs, and fire-engine red toenails peeking out from strappy leather flip-flops screamed siren.
Tall, too. He loved tall women. At six-three, he liked his women to fit his frame.
His groin tightened. He’d never been immune to a pretty woman, and she was about as gorgeous as he’d seen—the perfect combination of innocence and heat, sparkle and sultry, virtue and corruption. How would those cherry lips feels against his own? Against…other places?
The two ponytails that would be ridiculous on most women worked on her. Dark curls tumbled over each shoulder. He imagined her sans blouse, sans hair ribbons, that silky hair cascading over peachy-pink shoulders, rosy-tipped breasts.
How it might feel between his fingers, brushing his chest…
Good lord, she is beautiful.
Then she spoke.