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Nervously, he rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. “So you can… Hell, I don’t know. Do what brides do, I guess. I figured you wanted some privacy.”
“Oh.” She was crestfallen and it showed in her expression. “I thought you might want to undress me yourself.”
“I do,” he said in a rush. “I mean, if you want me to.”
She seemed to think it over carefully before nodding.
He flexed his fingers like a safecracker about to attempt his personal best and reached for the buttons on her blouse—small pearl buttons very much like the ones that had engendered his first fantasies about her.
Their restraint diminished with each article that was removed. They undressed each other leisurely, allowing time to celebrate each discovery. Even though she’d grown up with two brothers in the house, she had a childlike curiosity about his body. Whispering in wonderment, she told him he was handsome, and he said he hadn’t realized her eyesight was so bad. When he told her she was beautiful, she believed it, because his caresses were strongly convincing. He made her feel like a goddess of beauty and romance.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Janellen,” he whispered as he poised above her.
“You won’t.”
He didn’t, even when he was deep inside her. She was awkward and perhaps too eager to please, so he told her to relax and let him do all the work. She did as he suggested, and to their mutual delight and surprise, her climax was as tumultuous as his.
Afterward, they drank the complimentary bottle of champagne that came with the room. She selected names for their first four children. He swore that by Valentine’s Day he’d have enough money saved to buy her a wedding ring like a proper groom, but she argued that she didn’t need anything tangible to symbolize his love. She felt it with every breath she drew.
Drowsy with love and champagne, he murmured, “Want to try out the whirlpool bath, or watch HBO, or something?”
“Or something.” She flashed him a gamine smile that would have amazed the matrons of Eden Pass who had considered her a hopeless old maid, then slid her hand beneath the sheet and boldly fondled him.
“Good Lord have mercy on us all,” he said, gasping. “Miss Janellen’s done turned into a regular sex fiend.”
Had Bowie and Janellen turned on the television set in their honeymoon suite, they would have seen the news bulletins on the catastrophic fire in Eden Pass that had already claimed ten lives. All the victims had been identified and the authorities were notifying next of kin.
It was hours before the firefighters from six counties finally brought the flames under control. By dawn, the preliminary investigation into the cause of the explosion was under way. Inspectors began sifting through the smoldering ruin.
Early speculation was that Tackett Oil’s well number seven might have been a contributing factor. Since Bowie couldn’t be located, his supervisor had capped off the oil and gas lines.
Following that precaution, there had been no other explosions, indicating that the well had indeed been feeding the flame.
Key, the only Tackett readily available, was being questioned by federal agents from the Department of Tobacco, Alcohol, and Firearms.
“Y’all ever have any problem with that well leaking oil or gas, Mr. Tackett?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I’m not involved in my family’s business.”
“Who is?”
“My sister. She’s out of town.”
“I understood that your mother was the ramrod of the outfit.”
“Not for the last several years.”
“I’d still like to talk to her.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s out of the question. She had a mild stroke a few weeks back and is virtually bedridden.”
Lara, who was standing by listening, said nothing to contradict him. Neither did anyone else.
“All I can tell you,” he said to the agents, “is that Tackett Oil has always been stringent about safety. Our record is unblemished.”
The agents huddled together for another conference.
Scores of curious bystanders milled about, eager to survey the damage now that the threat of danger had passed. They consoled Darcy and Fergus Winston over their enormous loss.
