Page 111 of Texas Destiny
“I will.”
He mounted a black stallion, and with little more than a gentle kick to the horse’s sides, sent it into a flying gallop.
Dallas cleared his throat. “Well, reckon Austin and I ought to head back to the ranch.”
“I need to give Amelia her gift first,” Austin said. He walked over to his horse and returned carrying his violin. He sat on a boulder, stretched out one leg, worked the heel of his other boot into a crack in the rock, and rested the violin on his shoulder. “The first time I ever saw you, Amelia … well, this is what I heard in my heart.”
The music began softly, little more than a soughing sigh. Amelia felt a touch on her shoulder and glanced up at her husband.
“Your wedding gift from me,” he said as he stepped back and held out his arms. “A waltz.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think you danced.”
“Mimi St. Claire, proprietor and expert dressmaker, happens to give dancin’ lessons.” He reddened. “They cost more than the wedding dress.”
“I love the wedding dress.” She smiled as she stepped into his embrace, and they began to sway in rhythm to the music.
The lyrical strains of the violin wove around the falls, through the breeze, kissing the petals of wildflowers. They rose in crescendo, grand, beautiful, and bold, before drifting into silence.
Amelia and Houston waltzed while Austin tucked his violin under his arm. They waltzed after Dallas and Austin mounted their horses and rode away.
They waltzed until twilight, until it was time to go home.
The cabin was dark except for the fire burning lazily in the hearth. Houston had shoved the table to one side of the room and moved the bed closer to the hearth.
Amelia had imagined this night a hundred times since the evening Houston had asked her to marry him. She’d anticipated it, longed for it, but as she gazed at her full reflection in the cheval glass, she had a feeling her imaginings would pale in comparison to all this night would bring.
Her husband stood behind her, slowly releasing the buttons of her wedding dress. He parted the material and placed a kiss on her nape.
He met and held her gaze in the mirror, his knuckles brushing along either side of her throat. “You haven’t asked me a question all evening.”
“I can’t think of anything I need answered right now.”
“You can’t think of anything?”
She rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I’m having a hard time thinking of anything to say, much less to ask.”
“I have a lot of questions that need answering.”
He nibbled on her earlobe and trailed his tongue along the shell of her ear. She thought she might melt to the floor. “You do?”
“Mmmm-huh. I’d like to watch a shadow show without the canvas between us.”
“It wouldn’t be a shadow show without the canvas.”
He smiled, one side of his mouth moving more than the other. “Exactly, but a lot of my questions sure would be answered without me having to ask them.”
He stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed. She pivoted slowly and angled her chin. “What’s good for the goose—”
“Understood.”
Smiling serenely, she tugged first on one sleeve and then the other, watching as her husband’s gaze darkened. The gown pooled at her feet, and she stepped over it, stepped nearer to him. Slowly she removed her undergarments. Her husband swallowed hard, his lips parted slightly, and he leaned forward.
Standing before him with nothing but the air surrounding her flesh, she was surprised she felt no self-consciousness. She cupped her breasts. “You must have thought me terribly wanton the first time you saw me do this.”
“I didn’t think anything at all,” he rasped as he came to his feet. He shrugged out of his jacket, tore his shirt over his head, and removed his trousers in one fluid movement. Then he was standing before her, cradling her cheek. “If you hadn’t asked me questions, I think I might have made that whole journey without a clear thought in my head. The first time I saw you, I couldn’t think of anything to say.”
She trailed her fingers over his chest, admiring every aspect of his hard lean body. “‘And now?”
