Forty-seven
That night, Judson made love to her beneath a brilliant Caribbean moon that splashed the sea with silver light. Gwen abandoned herself to his touch, savoring the tenderness and the power that he brought to the bed they shared. But it was the sense of intimacy that flared between them that she would treasure all the days of her life.
When it was over, Judson rolled onto his back and pulled her down across his damp, heated body.
“I love you, Dream Eyes,” he said. “I have since that night in Seattle.”
She laughed. “You were looking for some hot sex that night because you thought it would take your mind off the dreams.”
“That’s what I told myself at the time, but when I didn’t get the hot sex, I realized I was wrong.”
“And just how did you figure that out?”
He smiled and twined a strand of her hair around his finger. “Because it dawned on me that if I couldn’t have hot sex with you, I didn’t want to have it with anyone else, even if it meant that I wouldn’t get a break from the dreams. How long is it going to take for you to figure out that you love me?”
“Oh, I fell in love with you that night, too,” she said.
“Is that right?” He looked pleased.
“I knew from the start that you were the one I’d been waiting for. But I screwed up our first date when I offered to fix your dreams, didn’t I? You got pissed off and disappeared to Eclipse Bay.”
“You felt sorry for me because of the dreams. Pity was the last thing I wanted from you.”
“I knew you were having a few dream issues and I was sympathetic, sure. I also knew I could probably fix your dreams. But that had nothing to do with falling in love with you.”
“You’re positive?”
“I told you,” she said. “I never sleep with clients. I certainly don’t fall in love with them, either. I love you, Judson. I have from the start and I always will.”
“Glad we got that settled.” He smiled and framed her face between his hands. “I could only think about two things that month in Eclipse Bay—you and that damn recurring dream. It was only a matter of time before I went looking for you. But I told myself I needed to clear up the dream issues first. Then Sam called and told me that you had a problem.”
“What a coincidence. I spent that month telling myself that I would see you at the wedding,” Gwen said. She touched one fingertip to the corner of his mouth. “I had a cunning plan.”
Judson’s eyes gleamed with laughter. “What was your cunning plan?”
“I wasn’t going to say a word about your dream issues at the wedding. I was going to pretend that I couldn’t see a thing wrong in your aura. Instead of talking about my terrific skills as a psychic counselor, I was going to try to seduce you instead.”
“A very cunning plan, all right. I can guarantee you that it would have been successful, too.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Without a doubt,” he assured her. “I can prove it.”
“How?”
“You can try your cunning plan on me right now and we’ll see if it works.”
“What a brilliant idea.”
She kissed him there in the moonlight and put her cunning plan into action.
The results were extraordinary.
Forty-eight
The day of the wedding had been made-to-order for an outdoor ceremony. Legacy Island was bathed in the warm glow of a summer light that was unique to the San Juans. But it seemed to Gwen that the Coppersmith family compound at Copper Beach was illuminated with a little extra energy.
The sun flashed on the surface of the sea. The air was so crystalline that the small, neighboring islands appeared to be within touching distance. And as if hired by the wedding planner to make the picture-postcard scene perfect, a pod of majestic orcas cavorted offshore. They danced in and out of the water as though their sleek, black-and-white, multi-ton bodies were weightless.
“You look beautiful,” Gwen whispered to Abby.
They were in a small alcove of the old mansion that Abby and Sam now called home. Gwen was making final adjustments to the elegant folds of Abby’s satin and lace gown. Through the open French doors they could see that the rows of linen-draped folding chairs on the groom’s side of the aisle were filled.
In addition to the Coppersmith family and friends, all of the local residents of the island had been invited to the ceremony and the reception. Judging by the throng, Gwen was sure that everyone on Legacy had accepted the invitation.
But the bride’s side was not empty. True, Girard, the wedding planner, had discreetly packed that side by ensuring that many of the locals were seated there. But Abby’s stepbrother and her half sisters had shown up. Her father and stepmother had sent regrets, but given that they were currently locked in the midst of a nasty divorce, that had not come as a surprise to anyone, least of all Abby.
Gwen knew that Abby had been genuinely touched when a handful of her reclusive rare book clients arrived. Grady Hastings, a young man who had been involved in the case that had brought Abby and Sam together, was also present.
“Why am I nervous?” Abby asked. “I shouldn’t be nervous.”
“Brides are always nervous,” Gwen said.
“How would you know that? You’ve never been a bride. Wait until it’s your turn. We’ll see who’s nervous.”
Nick appeared at the entrance to the alcove where Abby and Gwen waited. He always looked good, Gwen thought. But he was especially dashing and sophisticated in his new, elegantly cut tux.
He smiled at Abby and Gwen. In a rare show of emotion, moisture glinted in his eyes.
“I have the most beautiful sisters in the world,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically husky.
“And we have the most handsome brother on the planet,” Gwen said.
“I’m happy for you, Abby,” Nick said. “You’re getting a real family.”
“I’ve already got a real family—you and Gwen are as real as it gets,” Abby said. “I couldn’t ask for a better family. I’m just adding on a husband and a few new relatives today.”
“Things will be different now, though,” Nick said.
“No, they won’t.” Abby stepped forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Nothing will ever change what the three of us have.”
“We will always be family,” Gwen said. She kissed Nick’s other cheek and stood back.
“Okay, then.” Nick looked satisfied. He blinked away the sheen of tears and offered his arm to Abby. “Let’s do this. I think Sam is getting nervous.”
“Nothing makes Sam nervous,” Abby said.
“Trust me, the possibility that you might run off and leave him standing at the altar is more than enough to scare the living daylights out of him,” Nick said. “Speaking personally, I sort of enjoy that look of incipient panic in his eyes.”
Gwen smiled. “But it’s not going to last long because Abby is not going to leave him at the altar.”
“No.” Abby wrapped one white-gloved hand around Nick’s arm. “Never.”
The musical cue sounded.
“Here we go,” Gwen said. She gave Abby one last sisterly kiss, careful not to spoil the bride’s makeup, and picked up the basket of flowers.
