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"Mr. and Mrs. Curtis Russell," he added.
"Yes, sir," the clerk replied with a pleasant smile and a meaningful glance. "Uh, congratulations, by
the way."
"Thanks," Curt replied, glancing at his beaming bride.
Once they were registered, the bellhop followed right along with their luggage on a tall cart. As
they went down the hall to the bank of elevators, the sound of loud singing came from the balcony above.
"The marines landed last night," the bellhop told them. "They, uh, like to sing the song. Anybody
who gets in the elevator with them gets to sing it, too."
Mary burst out laughing. "You're kidding!"
The elevator door opened and two marines, one male and one female, both sergeants, turned to look
over the new arrivals.
Curt held Mary's hand reassuringly as the doors closed.
"We like to sing," the male marine said.
"Very much," the female sergeant agreed, moving closer. She was easily six feet tall.
"Now, isn't that a coincidence?" Mary asked, nodding.
"I like to sing, too!" And she immediately launched into "Over hill, over dale, over trusty mountain
trail..!"
"No," the male marine said at once, shaking his head. "No, no, no, that's the army song. You have to
sing our song."
She stared up at him. "I just got married. Can we sing the 'Wedding March' instead?"
Before the words were out, the elevator paused on the next floor, the door opened, and four more
marines crowded onto it, making barely enough to breathe for all the occupants and the luggage carrier
and the bellboy.
"She just got married," the female sergeant said loudly. "She says she wants to sing the 'Wedding
Song'!"
The new arrivals blinked. They were both holding thick short glasses with barely an inch of liquid
left.
They grinned.
"Okay!" one of them agreed. "Let's go, marines! Da da da DUM, DA da da DUM..." He stopped
and blinked at the others. "What are the words?"
"Never mind," Curt said, shaking his head. "It's better your way. Come on, sweetheart, let's sing the
marine song." He raised his voice. "From the halls of MontezuuuuuUHma...!"
Hands went over ears. Buttons were pressed. The elevator stopped and disgorged almost an entire
company of marines.
"Please," the female sergeant pleaded. "Don't ever sing our song again...!"
The elevator doors closed on the plea.
Curt burst out laughing. After a minute, so did Mary and the bellhop.
The bellhop opened the curtains, pointed out the wet bar, whirlpool bath and the closets and left
with a nice tip.
Curt locked the door behind him, turned around, and pursed his lips as he studied his pretty new
wife in her nice oyster-white suit.
"Reservations in the nicest hotel in the metro area," she murmured with a beaming smile. "You
sweetheart, you!"
"Nothing's too good for my best girl," he said gently, walking toward her. "You were the prettiest
bride in Georgia, and I love you to distraction."
"I love you, too," she admitted, linking her arms around his neck. She sighed. "Thank God you
didn't go out in a hail of bullets. I'm so glad you've recovered with no residual damage. It was a wonderful
wedding ceremony. And now, here we are, all alone together with no pending court cases and no fugitives
to pursue." She sighed again, although her expression was mischievous. "What shall we do with the rest
of the day...?"
His hard lips cut her off. He kissed her hungrily. Their courtship had been, largely, an old-fashioned
one.
It had been, as the saying went, a long, dry spell.
Her lips parted eagerly. She reached up to hold him, feeling his body tauten with desire as she
answered his long, slow kisses.
The teasing stopped suddenly as he lifted her and carried her to the big, king-size bed. In between
warm, lingering kisses, he got rid of the obstacles, including the ankle gun he was never without.
"You wore a gun on our honeymoon?" she exclaimed, sitting up.
He pushed her back down again. "It's a precaution."
"Against what, for God's sake?"
"Intruders singing the marine hymn...come back here!"
He turned her, and his mouth found all the warm, soft, secret places, making her body sing with
delight.
He liked the husky little sounds she made when his mouth covered her breasts and suckled them. He
liked the way her long, elegant legs wrapped around the back of his, the way her body lifted to tempt him
into intimacy.
He wanted to take forever, but he was too hungry. His hands moved into more delicate persuasion,
and she moved quickly to accommodate him. His mouth ground into hers as he possessed her, feeling her
body ripple, feeling the faint hesitation as she accepted him.
"It's been...a long time," she groaned.
"You were married," he whispered gruffly.
"I was married when I was eighteen."
"Right."
"I was also divorced when I was eighteen."
"So?"
"Are you really that thick?" she exclaimed, lifting in a sudden high arch when his mouth touched
her in an unexpected place.
The thought suddenly got through to him. He lifted his head fractionally to meet her shy eyes. "You
mean, you haven't, since you were eighteen?!"
"I'm old-fashioned," she replied.
He let out a ragged breath. "I love old-fashioned women," he murmured, his eyes alive with feeling
as they searched hers. His hips moved abruptly, and he smiled at her expression. "How old was he?"
She swallowed. "Eighteen."
His body poised. "Eighteen."
"And I was his first girl."
He looked as if he'd swallowed the pillow. "Oh."
She moved experimentally. "Neither of us knew much, and I didn't like it much, so I didn't really
miss it when we separated." She moved again, gasping. "But I like it...with you. I love it with you!" Her
nails scored gently down his back. "Could you do that again, what you did when I gasped?"
"You haven't stopped gasping," he pointed out. "Not that I'm complaining!" No kidding. It would
take a mortician half a day to get the smile off his face if he died right now. He moved away a little.
"Okay. Is this what you want me to do...?"
She really gasped then, and her hands became frenzied, holding on to him wherever she could reach
while he taught her new ways to experience sensation. Somewhere in the middle of the lesson, it became
fierce and urgent. She reached up toward him and felt her body explode into little tiny bits of flame. She
sobbed endlessly, clinging, until she slowly became aware of the man straining against her in rough
shudders, his breath jerking out breathlessly at her ear.
Minutes later, the ceiling came slowly into focus above her. She felt drained, sensuously exhausted,
and very proud of herself. Apparently, she was damned good at this, a natural, because he'd certainly
enjoyed it. She could tell, even if she didn't have a lot of experience.
"I may give up law and do this from now on," she murmured with her eyes closed. "I have definite
potential!"
He chuckled. "You can pin a rose on that!”
She rubbed one leg slowly against his. "You have definite potential, too," she said sensually.
"Maybe we can stretch our honeymoon out by another four or five months?"
He laughed out loud. "Now, that's what I call incentive!"
She rolled onto his chest and kissed him softly. "I want to keep the dog."
It was the last thing he expected to hear. His eyes almost popped. "You what?"
"I want to keep Big Red. Your mom doesn't really have room for him, but we could live in my
house and fence in the yard and the garden, and he could have lots of space to run."
"Oh, no. Not the dog. Not that dog...!"
"Please?" she murmured, kissing his chest. "Pretty please?" She kissed a hard nipple and started
sucking on it gently. He was lifting up, and breathing hard, and even gasping by now. "Pretty please with
sugar on it...?"
"Okay, you can have the dog. That, and anything else you want," he choked as he moved over her
with intent. "Anything!"
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