Donna Hill

Spend My Life with You


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didn’t want to give in to the urgent need to pull her closer, to feel her fully against him. The sensation of her being so close and still so far was messing with his head. The fresh scent of her hair, the barely there fragrance that she wore combined with the heat of her body had him coiled tight as a rattlesnake. He had to concentrate on the music, the aroma of food, the smatterings of conversation that floated around him to keep his mind off what she was doing to his body. In as much as he wanted her closer, there would be no doubt about her effect on him if he did. She’d be sure to think that he was some randy fool who couldn’t control his urges. He was almost thankful when the music ended. He needed some air and some space.

      He released his hold around her waist and stepped back. She tilted her head up to look at him; the dewy softness of her lips, the light dancing in her eyes and the tiny pulse beating in her throat had him wanting to forget what was proper and simply take her mouth and sample it until they couldn’t take it anymore.

      “Thank you for the dance,” he managed to say, his voice thick and jagged. “I’m going to go mingle a little.”

      “Oh…of course.” She put on a practiced smile and wondered what she’d done wrong.

      He took her elbow and walked her back to the table. “Thanks again for the dance and the conversation.”

      She offered a tight smile while she watched him walk away, and for reasons that she couldn’t explain she felt like bursting into tears.

      “Hey, baby doll, come on and dance with your big brother.” Rafe curved his arm around her waist before turning her petite body into his.

      His arms were strong, familiar and secure, and for a few minutes she could forget how small and insignificant she felt, which of course was ridiculous. It was just a conversation, a drink and a dance. No big deal.

      “You’re stiff as a board.” He peered down at her. “What’s wrong? Did he say something out of the way to you?”

      She heard the sudden rise in his tone. The smooth easy cadence was gone. Lee Ann dared to look up at his piercing dark eyes.

      “Don’t be silly,” she soothed. “I’m fine, and no, he didn’t say anything out of hand.”

      Rafe took a hard look over his shoulder, seeking out the young senator as if seeing him would somehow validate what his sister said. He turned back to Lee Ann. “You sure, because I have no problem sharing a few words with him man-to-man.”

      Lee Ann gently pressed her hands against Rafe’s hard chest. “I can take care of myself. Thank you very much,” she added with a slight smile.

      He leaned down and kissed her forehead then skillfully moved with her around the floor. “All you have to do is say the word,” he said, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He’d always been that way with his sisters, since they were all little. He took great pride in being the big brother, and yes, it was true that he loved women but none more than his sisters and of course his mother. Lee Ann was the one most like their mother, and he was sure that was one of the reasons they were so close, as children and as adults. “I’ll hang around if you need me to,” he said.

      “No, please. I know your lips are itching to play, so whenever you’re ready just go on. It’ll be fine. I’ll tell Daddy something or nothing.” She grinned at him.

      The dance came to an end, and they walked across the grand ballroom out to the balcony. The air was still heavy and filled with the scent of a hot spring night. Beyond the cove of streets, the lights of the city peeped in and out, and the soft sound of the Mississippi rolled gently in the distance.

      For a fleeting moment, caught in the beauty of the evening, Lee Ann wished that she was peering out into the night, whispering soft words and sharing light laughter with her own someone special.

      “Looks like everyone who’s anyone is here tonight,” Rafe commented, taking a brief look over his shoulder into the main room.

      “Well, you know Uncle Jerry never does anything halfway.” She continued to stare out into the night.

      Briefly Rafe put his hand around her shoulder, and she tilted her head to rest it against him. “Can I get you a drink, a plate of food?”

      “Another spritzer would be nice, thanks.”

      “Be right back.”

      She inhaled deeply and reentered the ballroom, watched the milieu move around her and felt so apart from the activities. It was so unlike her she thought, not to be like a butterfly flitting from one guest to the next, enjoining and cajoling as if she was the hostess. Smiling, as was her habit as she passed familiar faces, she found herself back on the balcony, sure that her brother would instinctively find her.

      She leaned against the balustrade with her back to the Mississippi, and her stomach quivered when she saw Preston heading with purpose in her direction. She tried to glance away, ignore his approach, but it was too late.

      He walked right up to her, cutting off everything and everyone around them. He took up her vision.

      “I’m usually much more the Southern gentleman than I was earlier,” he said. Thick lashes lowered over his dark eyes for an instant then settled on his face. A half-shy smile tickled the corners of his rich mouth. “I… You rattled me, Ms. Lawson,” he said. The soft twangy cadence of his voice was both charming and unnerving.

      Lee Ann tilted her head slightly to the right, for the first time since they met having a sense of standing on firm ground without her legs wobbling beneath her. She smiled and, always the tactful lady being Louisa Lawson’s daughter, said, “Senator Graham, I have no idea what you mean.”

      The imaginary rift they’d created was crossed with their relieved laughter.

      Chapter 2

      “Where’s that brother of yours?” Branford asked as the family headed out to the waiting limo.

      The siblings shared a look behind their father’s expansive back.

      “If you think I don’t know that he snuck out of here to go into N’awlins to play that damned sax of his at some juke joint, think again.”

      “Don’t think they call them juke joints anymore, Daddy,” Dominique said. Mischief sparkled in her eyes and tickled the corner of her mouth.

      The quartet stifled their giggles. Dominique was notorious for intentionally pushing their father’s buttons. He threw her a thunderous look over his shoulder, and she looked back at him in wide-eyed innocence. Branford simply shook his head and muttered to himself about “damned children.”

      ***

      They all tumbled into the limo still sailing on the high of the evening, still amazed that no matter how many of “these things” they attended they always had a good time. Dominique, Desiree and Justin were totally immersed in conversation. Lee Ann, who was seated near the window, took the opportunity to steal a few moments for herself, retreating to that space in her mind and spirit where she was carefree, devoid of responsibility and worry about anyone other than herself. She rested her chin on her palm and glanced out at the rolling panorama that sped in front of her: the stately homes that once served as plantations, the lush greenery, manicured lawns and the distant sound of ships sailing along the river to parts unknown to her—adventures maybe.

      She drew in a long breath of calm, and the subtle scent of Preston wafted beneath her nostrils, triggering a surge of sensory delights. The feel of the pressure of his hand on her waist, the beat of his heart when he held her close against him while they danced, the way his voice vibrated through her when he leaned down to whisper something outrageous about one of the guests. For her, the evening had turned from ordinary to something special.

      She wanted to see him again, she realized as the evening progressed then began to draw to a close—away from work and politics and parties. And it was as though he mimicked her thoughts, and he said the very words that were playing in her head. Still, as much as she’d