No Less Than a Lifetime

by Christine Rimmer

  Price wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her closer. He kissed the tip of her nose.

  Then he let go of her hand and began caressing her, idly, as if he had all the time in the world to make her body sing with delight. Faith shivered a little, in pleasure, and in appreciation. She’d already found fulfillment; he had not. The proof of how much he wanted her was right there. All she had to do was look down to see it. Yet he seemed in no rush to claim his own gratification.

  He trailed a finger up her arm and over the curve of her shoulder. He traced her collarbone, stroked her neck, caressed the line of her jaw, the shell of her ear.

  Slowly, he forked his fingers through her hair, then drew his hand out and away from her face, taking the long strands with him. He made a fist. “Like silk,” he said as the strands poured over his knuckles. Slowly, he opened his fist, drew the strands out even more, so that he could bring the ends to his mouth.

  “I’ve missed you,” he breathed against her hair.

  Tenderness was a sweet ache all through her. She wanted to know that everything was all right for him at home. “Is everything working out, with Justine?”

  He was stroking her hair again. “Justine is doing a great job. But she’s just not you. No one is.”

  She reached out and cupped her hand around his head. “I hope you haven’t been too hard on her.”

  He tipped his head back, into her touch. “I have. I’ve been terrible. To everyone.”

  She massaged his nape, where the hair was trimmed short and blunt. “You’ll have to do better.”

  He looked at her again, his eyes lazy, warm, full of what was going to happen, of what he would do to her—and she to him.

  “I will,” he said solemnly. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

  “Good.”

  “You’ll help me. Won’t you?”

  Faith said nothing. What was there to say?

  He moved then, so swiftly it took her breath away. He pushed her down and stretched out beside her and covered her mouth with his. His tongue learned the inside of her mouth all over again, as he stroked her hair and her shoulders, her breasts, and the long line of her waist and hip.

  Faith returned touch for touch. And when he reached for the condom, she helped him to slide it on. He moved between her thighs and slowly pressed himself home.

  Faith welcomed him. There were a thousand and one reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this. And each reason meant nothing right then. For the first time in over a month, she was exactly where she wanted to be: held close in Price Montgomery’s arms.

  Chapter Eleven

  They didn’t leave Faith’s bed until after seven. And then they showered together behind the wraparound shower curtain, in the old clawfoot tub that crouched in the middle of Faith’s bathroom.

  Faith told him she was sorry, but the electricity in his room would probably be out for a while. And she had no other room to give him.

  He was slowly and thoroughly soaping her breasts at the time. “I guess I’ll just have to sleep here, with you,” he said.

  She groaned, but more because of the silken feel of the soap on her skin and the sweet, hot sliding of his knowing hands than because of anything he’d said. “It’s a small town. People will talk.”

  “We’ll be discreet.” He rubbed his palms against her nipples. She groaned again. He went on, his voice gruff but his attitude studiously offhand. “I’ll go on renting my room.” He chuckled. “1 need a place to store all the stuff I keep buying, anyway.”

  He slid around behind her, so that his body no longer blocked the shower spray. He pressed himself against her back, which elicited a small gasp from her. Then he insinuated his hands under her arms, so that he could cup and lift her breasts. The water beat on them, hot and delicious, washing the lather away, down her belly and over her thighs.

  Faith leaned back into his embrace, sighing. She felt glorious. Her whole body seemed to hum with life and energy. It was a wonderful feeling.

  And yet, beneath the haze of lazy desire, a small voice kept whispering warnings.

  This is foolish, and you know it. Nothing can come of it. It’s bound to end badly…

  And some contrary part of her argued right back: There are worse things than a bad ending to a beautiful love affair.

  Faith wondered what was happening to her. She really was changing. Sometimes, she didn’t know herself anymore. For so long, she’d been quiet, well-behaved Faith, who dedicated her life to the care of others, who never dated, never planned to marry.

  And then one day, after years of working at Montgomery House, she had realized that she was in love with her boss.

  But her love hadn’t changed anything, not really. Outwardly her life remained the same, though in her heart she lived in quiet hopelessness, worshipping Price from afar.

  But then Evie had found Erik. Faith had seen her sister’s happiness. And she’d started to think that quiet hopelessness wasn’t such a great way to live. She’d wanted a new life, so she’d created one.

  And she was making a complete mess of it.

  But even if her business venture was nothing short of a disaster, her other dream remained. She was thirty-five. Not young, but certainly not old. She still hoped that someday she might meet a nice man, might marry, have a family…

  “Stop it,” Price growled in her ear.

  “Hmm?”

  “Stop thinking. Just…let it be.” He locked his arms around her waist and kissed her hair, right beneath the thick knot she’d anchored high on her head to try to keep it as dry as she could in the shower.

  She thought that if they were going to go on with this, she should at least tell him of her love.

  But then again, she could see no point in telling him. It would do no real good—except, perhaps, to drive him away sooner than he would otherwise go.

  Cautiously, she asked, “How long are you planning to stay, Price?”

  He nuzzled her ear. “As long as I have to. Until you see reason.”

  “See reason about what?”

  “The financial backing you need.”

  “I won’t take your money.”

  “Then I may never leave.” He licked water off her neck; she shivered at the teasing stroke of his tongue against her skin. “Hmm…That’s a thought. I’ll stay forever.”

  But she knew that he wouldn’t. This moment was such a frail thing—and all the more precious for its fragility.

  He nipped her earlobe. “Or maybe you could close things up here. Come home to Montgomery House with me for a while. For a visit.”

  She made herself refuse him on that score. “No, Price. That’s not possible.”

  His hands slid lower, down over her rib cage. “Fine. Whatever. Just kiss me.” He turned her and took her mouth. She felt his readiness again, against her belly. And she knew that she was ready, too. She dared to reach down, to touch him. He gasped and stifled a cry.

  Then he took her by the shoulders and pushed her away.

  “Price?”

  He shoved back the shower curtain and climbed from the tub, dripping wet.

  “Price!”

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He returned right away, wearing a condom. He got back in the tub and sat on the edge. “Come here.” He tugged on her hand.

  Faith went to him without hesitation. She took him inside her, wrapped her legs around his waist. They began to move together once again, toward the white-hot center of mutual ecstasy.

  His mouth found her breast. It was a feeling like no other. He filled her and devoured her at the same time. She had no idea where her body ended and his began.

  Her head dropped back, into the shower spray. Water ran in her eyes, drenched her piled-up hair. Faith didn’t care one bit. She felt herself rising, reaching…

  Price urged her on. She went where he bade her, past the boundaries of sensation. Into the realm of pure bliss.

  Finally, around eight-thirty, when they’d managed t
o get into their clothes at last and Faith had dried her hair, Price decided that they were going out to eat. At the Mercantile Grill.

  By then, he didn’t have much trouble convincing Faith to leave the motel. There were no rooms to rent, anyway. The No Vacancy sign was already sitting in the window. All she had to do was call all her guests in their rooms to say she’d be out for an hour or two and let them know where she could be reached in case of an emergency.

  Price called ahead and spoke with Eden, Jared’s wife, who ran the Grill as she ran the Hole in the Wall. Eden promised to save them a nice table for two, in a private corner.

  Jared’s wife even came over to greet them when they sat down. A tall, pretty woman with long legs and strawberry-blond hair, Eden Jones was well along in expecting her second child. She said how good it was to see Faith. And Faith agreed that she didn’t get out enough. The motel really kept her busy.

  “But I see Price has talked you into getting out at last,” Eden said, and looked at Price quite fondly, as if she’d known him all her life.

  Faith hid a smile. Price was a domineering man, but he could be as charming as Ariel when he put his mind to it. More than once in the past few days, Faith had been forced to listen to people telling her what a generous, big-spending hunk of a guy Price Montgomery was. From the way people reacted to him, it appeared he’d succeeded in befriending the entire town of North Magdalene.

  Price grinned at Eden. “What’s good?”

  “Everything,” Eden said. “But my personal favorite is the prawns in coconut batter. Ask the waitress about it when she comes.”

  Price said he’d do just that. Eden patted each of them on the shoulder and then waddled away. Faith watched her go, suppressing the little surge of longing that rose up in her, longing to be happily married, with a baby on the way…

  But then Price took her hand across the table. His eyes were so bright. She realized he looked the happiest she’d seen him in years. Her love was a warm glow all through her. She decided right then that she was going to stop thinking of the future for now. She was going to enjoy herself. Enjoy him, and the pleasure he seemed, miraculously, to find in simply being with her.

  The waitress came. They ordered the prawns, which were delicious, just as Eden had promised.

  After dinner, they went next door to the Hole in the Wall. Faith nursed a vodka tonic and tried playing pool, which was cause for a lot of good-natured teasing from Price, as well as from Jared, who was working behind the bar. She seemed to have an alarming ability to sink the eight ball— every time she took a shot.

  Everyone seemed glad to see her. They behaved as if they were genuinely happy that she’d finally decided to get out and have a good time. She should have done this sooner, Faith could see that now. What was the point of living in a small town full of friends and family, if you never got out and enjoyed being with them?

  Faith spotted Uncle Oggie across the room. He waved. It occurred to Faith that she hadn’t seen much of him in the past few days—since Price had come to town, as a matter of fact. Which was probably just as well. The last thing she needed right now was North Magdalene’s resident matchmaker nosing around in her life, asking questions about the future, when the future was something she couldn’t really afford to think about.

  It was well past midnight when Faith and Price ran back to the Foothill Inn through the rain. He insisted on stopping at his room to grab a toothbrush and a few clothes, as well as more little foil packets.

  In her apartment, they proceeded directly to her bedroom, where they eagerly engaged in the task of undressing each other once again.

  Faith woke the next morning with Price beside her. He was still sleeping, on his stomach, his face turned away from her. She smiled tenderly, reminded of that other morning, at Tower on the Bay.

  She had run away then.

  She would not run now. Whether that was progress or capitulation, she didn’t know. And really, at the moment, she didn’t much care.

  Price turned his head and opened one sleepy eye. “’Lo.”

  “Good morning.”

  Beneath the covers, his hand traced a heart on her thigh. “I’m hungry.”

  “Want pancakes?”

  “Uh-uh. Just you…”

  For the next week, Faith and Price were virtually inseparable.

  Faith’s business limped along on its three usable units. She put off deciding what to do about all the needed repairs. The truth was, her real life was on hold.

  She cleaned her three units and watched the counter most of the time. But her heart wasn’t in it. All she thought about was Price. She lived to wake beside him in the morning, and to fall asleep in his arms at night.

  Nevada, Faith’s older sister, came for a short visit in the middle of the week. Nevada stayed with Evie, but the three sisters did spend Wednesday evening together. Price went to the Hole in the Wall for entertainment, so that they could have some time alone.

  They sat in Faith’s living room. Nevada had brought a nice bottle of merlot, which she and Faith shared. Evie drank herbal tea.

  Nevada asked how the motel business was going. Faith rolled her eyes and ticked off a few of her problems. Nevada immediately offered to lend Faith some money.

  “You’re wasting your breath,” Evie said with a sigh. “She won’t take money from anyone. We’ve all tried.”

  Nevada laughed her husky laugh and told Faith that pride wasn’t going to fix her roof. “And what about that Price? Hunk city, huh? I always had a feeling there was something going on between you two. It’s a sexy situation.”

  “Oh, please,” Faith groaned.

  “No. I’m dead serious. The housekeeper and the lord of the manor…”

  “I’m not his housekeeper anymore.”

  “Great. Now you’re equals. That puts a whole new, delicious spin on things. Do I hear wedding bells in the near future?”

  Faith shook her head. “No.” She tried to sound cheerful. “You don’t.”

  Nevada tossed her tumbling red curls. “Oh, well. Marriage isn’t everything.” She made a face at Evie. “No matter what our baby sister thinks.” Then she looked at Faith again. “Want to talk to a professional about this relationship of yours?”

  The “professional” in question was Nevada herself, of course. Since she spent five afternoons a week advising the lovelorn in Phoenix, she considered herself an expert in matters of the heart.

  Nevada sighed when Faith took too long to answer. “You don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Right.” Faith lifted her wineglass. “But how about you? Any romance in your life?”

  “Me?” Nevada put on a look of total disbelief. “Forget it. You know me. The original independent woman. I tell people how to handle their love lives, but I never get involved myself. I require objectivity to be really good at giving advice.”

  “Right,” Faith said. “Have some more wine.”

  Nevada held out her glass for a refill. At the other end of the couch, Evie moved to pour herself a little more tea.

  “Look at her,” Nevada muttered in feigned disgust. “She was always the prettiest one. And she always glowed. But now she’s positively luminous. It’s not fair.”

  “She’s happy,” Faith said tenderly.

  Evie sat back with her filled teacup. She was blushing.

  Faith knew at that moment that Evie had news of some kind. So did Nevada, who demanded, “All right. What’s happened?”

  Evie started to drink from the cup, then set it aside. “Well…”

  “Come on. We can sense it. There’s something.”

  An absolutely beatific smile lit Evie’s face. “Well, I’m…”

  “Come on, Evie. Tell.”

  “I’m going to have a baby.”

  There was a moment of absolute silence. And then Nevada let out a whoop. She leaped off the couch and grabbed Evie in a tight embrace. “Oh, honey. This is incredible! I can’t believe it!”

  “Me neither,” Evie la
ughed. “But it’s true.”

  Faith sat on the couch, watching her sisters. For her, the moment was bittersweet. She wanted what Evie had—a good marriage and children. She was going to have to talk to Price. And soon.

  “Faith?” Evie was looking at her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Faith rose from the couch and went to join in the hugging and congratulating.

  The next two days were happy ones.

  Price stayed close. Except for his occasional forays into the local shops to buy more things he didn’t need, it seemed to Faith, he was always at her side. He actually started making himself useful around the motel, pitching in with the vacuuming and with making up the beds. Faith told him that if he played his cards right, he might have a future as a maid. He grabbed her and pushed her down on the bed he’d been making and tickled her until she yelped that she took it back, he’d make a lousy maid. Somewhat mollified, he let her go.

  Once or twice, she tried to broach the subject of what was in her heart. But something always stopped her. He would start kissing her, or the bell would jingle over the door out in front. She’d let it go, for a better time.

  They took turns fixing meals. Faith did breakfast. Price was great at slapping sandwiches together. Thursday night, Faith made pot roast.

  Friday, Price decided that they’d have a real night out. Teresa came over and watched the desk, and they drove down to Nevada City, for dinner and a show.

  When they returned, after they sent Teresa on home, Faith and Price retired to their favorite place: bed.

  But they didn’t stay there. Price wanted to try some of the other furniture. So they loved each other in the easy chair in the corner for a while, then progressed to the living room and experimented with the sofa.

  “Cramped, but functional,” Price declared it, once they were both lying limp, their arms and legs wrapped around each other, panting in satisfaction.

  After that, Price wanted a bath. Together, of course. And he also wanted to use the pair of brandy snifters he’d bought at Evie’s store a few days before. So he produced a bottle of Courvoisier, acquired just that evening during their visit to Nevada City. He poured the drinks and put them on a tray beside the clawfoot tub, which Faith was busy filling with hot water and bath salts.