by Noelle Adams
So I waited—more or less patiently.
Finally, he gritted out between clenched teeth, “I know I told you that you have freedom and you can do what you want in this marriage, but there are limits to that freedom.”
I stared at him, totally shocked by what seemed to me to be a completely different person than I’d known in the last few days. “Limits? You’re saying you’re going to limit my freedom?”
He narrowed his eyes. “There are some limits, yes.”
“So I can’t go on a walk on my own and get a drink?”
“Of course you can go on a walk and get a drink.” He seemed more angry at my question than he had before, as if I’d insulted him.
“Then what kind of limits are you imposing on me?”
“I don’t know exactly what you had in mind, but I’m not okay with an open marriage.”
The words were so surprising that they took a minute to process. When I did, I pulled to a stop on the sand, staring up at him in shock. “An open marriage?”
“Yes, an open marriage. I’m not okay with that. If you want to go out and pick up strangers, even though we’re married, then we’re going to have to have a discussion about it.”
I almost choked. I literally almost choked. A weird little strangled sound came out. “What?”
“I think you heard me.”
“You think I was… I wasn’t picking anyone… I was just talking to that man!”
“I saw you with him.”
“It was completely innocent! Are you insane?”
“His mind was not innocent. Talking was not what he had in mind.”
“Who cares what he had in mind? I wasn’t going to do anything with him. You can’t possibly think I would have left this afternoon to go pick up a man to have sex, while you were just taking a nap!” I was so outraged by this idea—by how far it was from the truth—that my voice was definitely louder than normal.
I wasn’t exactly yelling, but I was loud.
Apparently, my words had an effect on him. I saw his expression change, as if he were working through what I’d said, and then I saw it change again, as if he were believing me.
There was relief—definite relief on his face.
In a more moderated tone, I added, “I’m not okay with an open marriage either.”
He let out a slightly shaky breath, his eyes searching my face again as if he were checking once more to make sure I was being honest with him.
He must have assured himself I was because he said, “Okay.”
“Okay? You just accused me of cheating on you, and all you can say is okay?”
“I didn’t—“ He broke off the words before he finished the denial and changed to a much more appropriate response. “I’m sorry.”
“I know this is a strange sort of marriage and it happened mostly because it worked out advantageously for both of us, but I assumed it was a… a real marriage.” I started walking again because I felt exposed out here in the open, still on the public beach.
“It is.” He cleared his throat as he fell in step with me. “It is.”
“So you can be sure that I’m not going to sleep with anyone else, and I can be sure that you won’t either?”
“Right. Yes.”
“So the next time I happen to talk to a man, no matter what you think he has in mind, you’re not going to overreact like this?”
“Right. Yes. Sorry.” For the first time, his mouth turned up slightly in a little sheepish smile.
Relieved, I smiled back.
I hadn’t been wrong about him. He wasn’t a bad guy or an unreasonable one. It was actually good that he wanted and expected faithfulness between us. He had just misunderstood.
It was easy to have misunderstandings when you were getting to know each other.
***
When we returned to our sanctuary, I felt restless and a little awkward, like I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself.
Things had been settled between us, but I still felt uncomfortable, like there were loose ends, like I wasn’t sure what he would do, like I wasn’t sure what I should do.
Mostly for something to do with my hands, I went to the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. The chef was always putting little treats in there. I wasn’t very hungry, but at least it would give me something to do.
There was a bowl of delicious-looking fruit salad, so I pulled it out and got a bowl so I could scoop some out for myself.
Edward had been looking at his phone, but he put it down and came in the kitchen to stand near me.
I focused on my fruit, but it felt like he was staring at me, so I finally glanced over and asked, “What?”
“Are you angry with me?”
I shook my head and put the big bowl of fruit back in the refrigerator. “We’re fine.”
“It feels like you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. Why do you think I’m angry?”
“Because you’re avoiding looking at me.”
I’d been about to take a spoonful of fruit, but at this I put it down and met his eyes. “I’m not angry.”
“It feels like you are.”
I gave a little groan. “I thought we worked everything out.”
“We did. But I don’t want you to act skittish with me. I really am sorry.”
“I believe you. I’m not skittish.”
He narrowed his eyes and peered at me.
I groaned again and reached out to take a fistful of his shirt and give him a little shake. He didn’t actually get shaken but it was the best I could do. “I’m not skittish. Stop staring at me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I said okay.” This time, he gave another little smile.
I was actually rather annoyed with his persistent inquiry, but I couldn’t seem to not smile back when he smiled at me that way. “Okay.”
His smile widened. The expression was so warm, so attractive, that I just gazed up at him like a dope.
My hand was still on his chest. I couldn’t seem to move it.
His expression transformed even more—became deeper somehow, even warmer.
For a moment, I was sure he would kiss me.
I wanted him to. Desperately. I even swayed toward him, tilting my face up.
He cleared his throat and stepped back.
I stood motionless, processing the disappointment at his retreat, as he reached into the refrigerator and took the bowl of fruit back out.
He was getting himself some too.
The fruit was good. Really good.
But not as good as a kiss would have been.
Four
Two evenings later was our last night in Fiji.
We were returning home the following day.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Part of me was glad, since this week alone with Edward had been so strange and unsettling. But part of me was a little sad as well.
It was so beautiful here. Warm and sunny and gorgeous in every direction I looked. I’d actually had a good time, despite the difficulty in getting used to being with Edward.
Plus, it still felt like something should happen—something that just hadn’t yet happened.
The last two days had been good. No arguments or tension. We’d gone on a nature hike two days ago, and then yesterday we went snorkeling. Both activities had been suggested by me, but Edward had seemed quite willing and, as far as I could tell, he’d enjoyed them as much as I had.
But tonight was the end. We’d fly back tomorrow morning. Back to what I was used to.
It was entirely likely that Edward would go back to the wordless, aloof man I’d known before.
I hoped he wouldn’t.
I liked who he was with me now.
I’d like to know him even better.
It was late, but I couldn’t sleep. After tossing in my bed for almost an hour, I finally got up, pulled on a little pink robe that matched my nightgown, and went out into the main room of our sanctuary.
Since I felt a little hungry, despite the lavish dinner we’d had earlier, I went to the kitchen and pulled out a bowl of leftover chocolate mousse.
In truth, I wasn’t hungry at all.
I just wanted more of the mousse.
I filled up a little glass bowl, grabbed a spoon, and took my treat outside to eat on the deck.
It was cooler but still warm and pleasant, with a fragrant breeze coming off the ocean. The stars were ridiculously bright, and a half moon seemed to take up too much of the sky, its light reflecting in wavy shapes on the dark water of the ocean.
I sat down on one of the chairs and spooned out mousse, staring at the view and enjoying each breath of the salty air.
There was nothing like this back home.
Home was snow-topped mountains and historic cobble-stoned streets and days filled with politics and diplomacy.
Maybe it would be different, now that I lived with Edward.
There would still be the Alps, though. No ocean. No tropical breeze.
“Are you all right?” a male voice came from behind me.
I gave a little jerk of surprise and turned my head to see Edward standing in the doorway that led inside to the main room. He wore a pair of light gray cotton pajama pants and nothing else.
He looked rumpled and confused.
“Yes,” I said with a smile. Maybe he thought I was strange for eating mousse outside in the middle of the night, although it seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do to me. “Just couldn’t sleep, so I got a snack.” I showed him my bowl.
He nodded in that understated way he had and turned away, disappearing inside.
I knew him enough by now to not assume he was gone for good.
It was possible he’d just gone back to bed, now that he’d ascertained my health and safety, but he might be coming back out to join me.
I hoped he was.
Not that I wasn’t enjoying myself on my own, but still… he was more than welcome to sit out on the deck with me.
He wasn’t bad company. At all.
In just a minute, he appeared again, this time holding a bowl of mousse of his own. He walked outside and came to sit down on the chair next to mine. He wasn’t wearing shoes—even flip-flops like me—but the wood of the deck was finished smoothly and he wasn’t likely to get a splinter.
I was quite pleased with this proof that I knew him by now. I’d even predicted he might come out to join me, even though he hadn’t said a word about it.
We ate in silence, both of us gazing out at the ocean. But I’d had quite a headstart on my mousse, and he’d gotten more than me, so when my bowl was finished, I helped myself to a few spoonfuls of his.
He gave me a narrow-eyed look in response, but didn’t object.
I wanted to giggle, and I actually did when we had a little spoon-war over the last bite to scrape from the bottom of his bowl.
He was almost smiling as he took my bowl and spoon, and put them with his on a small table behind his chair.
I leaned back, closing my eyes in pleasure as I took a deep breath. “It’s so lovely here.”
When he didn’t respond, I opened my eyes to check his expression and was surprised by what I saw there.
He was staring at me—quite intensely. It was dark but it looked as though he liked what he saw.
I flushed a little, rattled by the expression.
Searching for something normal to say, I added, “I guess we have to go home, though.”
“We can come back here,” he said, in voice slightly rougher than his normal cool, polished tone. “If you want. Or go somewhere else. I told you we could go on more vacations.”
Smiling, I reached over to pat his arm, genuinely appreciative. “Thank you. I would like that.”
When I touched his bare skin, I realized my mistake. It was dark and sultry in the moonlight, and he was so handsome and only half-dressed. Plus, he’d been looking at me in that particular way, like he might want to devour me.
Or touch me all over.
I suddenly wanted to do a lot more than this touch his arm.
I pulled my hand away, feeling slightly shaky by the depth of my desire.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I took a ragged breath and stared out at the ocean, willing down the rush of feeling.
It was silly. I was a mature, reasonable person who could manage not to jump someone, no matter how much I happened to want to.
He would make a move when he was ready.
Wouldn’t he?
“Victoria?”
Hearing him say my name made it even worse, and I didn’t dare to look back at him. Not until I got myself under control.
“Victoria.” This time, the word was quieter—and no longer a question. He reached over and used his hand to gently turn my face back in his direction.
His head was tilted to one side, and he was searching my face with his blue eyes.
He wanted to know what I was thinking, but he couldn’t know what I was thinking.
He was leaning toward me, and his face was closer to mine than it had been before. And whatever willpower I possessed just wasn’t enough to fight off my flood of feeling. I leaned toward him even more. Reached out to lightly touch his face with my fingertips.
He sucked in a breath and cupped my head with one of his big hands.
Then suddenly I was kissing him.
I really have no idea who was the initiator. It could have been me, or him, or both of us at the same time. It didn’t really matter anymore. His lips were on mine, and it was exactly what I wanted. My whole body was washed with a rush of excitement and pleasure, running down my spine and dispersing to so many other parts.
His mouth wasn’t rough or hard, but it was more urgent than I would have expected, like he couldn’t control himself any more than I could. Soon, his tongue slipped between my lips, running along the undersides and then diving further into my mouth.
I gasped against his lips, edging forward on my chair even further as both of his hands tangled into my loose hair.
I could feel a tension in his body, a transparent passion in his touch.
He wanted this. As much as I did. That knowledge excited me as much as his kiss, his caresses.
I was just starting to wrap one of my arms around him, trying to get in a better position, when he suddenly stood up, dislodging my hands.
I stared up at him, gasping and bewildered and deeply crushed.
He gazed down at me for a moment, something twisting almost imperceptibly on his face. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
It was so startling—and so disappointing—that I couldn’t move for a moment.
Then I realized what was happening and jumped to my feet. “Wait. Edward, wait!”
Maybe I should have just let him go. That would certainly have spared my pride and dignity.
I was a Rothman, and Rothman women didn’t chase men. They were never desperate. They didn’t fall all over themselves to get a man—any man.
But that truth didn’t seem nearly as important to me as figuring out what the hell was happening here.
We were married. And we’d just had an amazing kiss.
And now Edward was walking away from me without a word.
It was wrong. It was just wrong.
Edward had clearly been enjoying the kiss, and he wasn’t a cruel man, so there had to be some other reason for his retreat.
He’d made it inside, but at my words he stepped back out onto the deck and turned around, a question on his face in addition to the tension I’d seen before.
I ran my eyes from his slightly flushed face to his bare chest and down to his pajama pants, where I could see the outline of an erection beneath the fabric.
He was turned on.
Just as turned on as I was.
My cheeks grew even hotter as my heart started to race again.
At least
he wasn’t leaving because he didn’t want me.
When I raised my eyes to his face, I knew he’d recognized that I’d seen his state of arousal. He still didn’t say anything, though.
I said the only thing I could think of. “Why did you stop?”
He opened his mouth, as if to reply, but no sound came out.
Then he did respond, but not with words.
He took two steps toward me and then reached out with both arms, taking my head in his hands and pulling me into another kiss.
That was definitely answer enough for me.
With a little whimper of excitement, I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him back just as eagerly as before.
Soon, his hands were running up and down my body, over the thin fabric of my gown and robe. Then, we were stumbling together over to the outdoor bed and tumbling down onto it, still in the embrace.
He rolled us over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, and he was still kissing me as he starting to push my robe off to bare my arms and shoulders.
He never said a word. He didn’t even make a sound other than a few audible intakes of breath. But it wasn’t strange or unnerving. His touch was communication enough. When we came up for air, I could see from the intensity of his expression how much he was into this.
My whole body was buzzing with pleasure and something more emotional—something almost like giddiness.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Making love to my husband on the last night of our honeymoon.
I thought I’d be going home still unacquainted with his body.
When he’d gotten my robe off, he pulled up enough to stare down at me. I wasn’t sure how attractive I looked with my hair spread out messily around my face and no makeup on, but he seemed to like what he saw, if I could go by the hunger in his eyes.
Slowly, intentionally, his eyes still raking up and down me, he gathered the fabric of my gown and started to pulled it up, baring my body until he pulled the gown off over my head.
Then I was nearly naked, wearing nothing but my little pink panties.
His gaze grew even hotter as he stared down at me. He was breathing more heavily now. I could see it in his chest and shoulders.
Finally, he moved one of his hands, almost slowly despite his evident urgency, and gently stroked one of my breasts.
