Zach followed her inside, carrying their luggage, barely taking time to appreciate the scene before him. “Harry’s putting the car away,” he said.
“This place is incredible,” Janine breathed, gesturing around her. She placed the flowers on the coffee table, then trailed after Zach into a hallway, off which were four bedrooms and an equal number of baths. At the back of the house, she found an exercise room, an office and an ultramodern kitchen where a pot of coq au vin was simmering.
In the formal dining room, the polished mahogany table was set for two. On the deck, designed to take advantage of the ocean view, she discovered a steaming hot tub, along with a bottle of French champagne on ice.
Zach returned as she wandered back into the kitchen and a strained silence fell between them. He was the first to speak. “I put your suitcases in the master bedroom,” he said brusquely. “I’m in the one across the hall.”
She nodded, not taking time to question her growing sense of disappointment. They’d agreed to delay their wedding night, hadn’t they?
“Are you hungry?” he asked, walking to the stove and lifting the pot’s lid, as she’d done earlier.
“Only a little. I was thinking about slipping into the hot tub, unless you want to eat first.”
“Sure. The hot tub’s fine. Whatever you want.”
Janine unpacked and located her swimsuit, then changed into it quickly. The warm water sounded appealing. And maybe it would help her relax. Draping a beach towel over her arm, she hurried into the kitchen, but Zach was nowhere to be seen. Not waiting for him, she walked out to the deck and stepped gingerly into the hot tub. The water felt like a soothing liquid blanket and she slid down, letting it lap just under her breasts.
Zach sauntered onto the deck a minute later, still in his suit. He stopped short when he saw her. “I…didn’t realize you’d be out so soon,” he said, staring at her with undisguised appreciation. He inhaled sharply and occupied himself by uncorking the bottle of champagne, then pouring a liberal glass. When he’d gulped it down, he reached for a second one and filled it for Janine.
“You’re coming in, aren’t you?” she asked, when he handed her the crystal flute.
“No,” he said abruptly. “I won’t join you, after all. There were several things I wasn’t able to finish at the office this week, and I thought I’d look over some papers. You go ahead and enjoy yourself.”
He was going to work on their wedding night! But she didn’t feel she had any right to comment or complain. She was determined to conceal her bitter disappointment.
“The water’s wonderful,” she said, as cheerfully as she could manage, hoping her words would convince him to join her.
Zach nodded, but his eyes now avoided Janine. “It looks…great.” He strode to the end of the deck, ran his fingers through his hair, then twisted around to face her. He seemed about to say something, but evidently changed his mind.
Baffled by his odd behavior, Janine set aside her glass of champagne and stood up so abruptly that water sloshed over the edge of the tub. “You don’t need to say it,” she muttered, climbing out and grabbing her towel.
“Say what?”
“You warned me before the wedding, so I walked into this with my eyes wide open. Well, you needn’t worry. I got the message the minute we arrived at the house.”
“What message is that?”
“Never mind.” Vigorously, she rubbed her arms with the towel.
“No,” he said. “I want you to tell me.”
Against her better judgment, she pointed a quaking finger at the front door. “You went out of your way to tell me how fond of me you were and how there wasn’t going to be any grand passion. Great. Perfect. I agreed to those terms. That’s all fine with me, but—”
“But what?”
Mutely, she shook her head.
He sighed. “Oh, great, we’re fighting. I suppose you’re going to ask for a divorce and make this the shortest marriage in Washington state history.”
Janine paled. Divorce was such an ugly word, and it struck her as viciously as a slap. Despite her efforts, scalding tears spilled down her cheeks. With as much dignity as she could muster, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, Janine went back inside the house, leaving a wet trail in her wake.
“Janine!” Zach shouted, following her into the kitchen. “Listen, Janine, I didn’t intend to argue with you.”
She turned abruptly. “This marriage doesn’t mean anything to you, does it? You won’t even interrupt your work long enough to…to act like a man who just got married.”
With her head held high, she stared past him to a painting of yellow flowers on the dining room wall. When her tears blurred the flowers beyond recognition, she defiantly rubbed her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching for her as if he needed to hold her. But then his arms fell to his sides. “I should’ve realized wedding traditions would be important to you. Like that carrying-you-over-the-threshold business. I’m sorry,” he said again. “I completely forgot.”
“It’s not just that, it’s everything. How many men bring a briefcase with them on their honeymoon? I feel like…like excess baggage in your life—and we haven’t even been married for twenty-four hours.”
Zach looked perplexed. “What does catching up on my reading have to do with any of this?”
His question only irritated her more. “You don’t have the foggiest notion of how impossible you are, do you?”
He didn’t answer right away, but seemed to be studying her, weighing his answer before he spoke. “I just thought I might have a chance to read over some papers,” he said slowly. “Apparently that bothers you.”
Janine placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, it bothers me.”
Zach frowned. “Since we’ve agreed to delay the honeymoon part, what would you suggest we do for the next three days?”
“Couldn’t we spend the time having fun? Becoming better acquainted?”
“I guess I do seem like a stranger to you,” he said. “No wonder you’re so nervous.”
“I am not nervous. Just tired and trying hard not to say or do anything that’ll make you think of me as a…a nag.”
“A nag?” Zach repeated incredulously. “I don’t think of you as anything but lovely. The truth is, I’m having one heck of a time keeping my eyes off you.”
“You are?” The towel she was holding slipped unnoticed to the floor. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to say anything romantic.”
“That was romantic?”
“And very sweet. I was beginning to think you didn’t find me…attractive.”
Astonished, Zach stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“I’m not.”
“I can see that the next few days are going to be difficult,” he said. “You’ll just need to be patient with me, all right?”
“All right.” She nodded, already feeling worlds better.
“How about if I dish up dinner while you’re changing?”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling.
By the time she got back to the kitchen, wearing gray slacks and a sweater that was the color of fresh cream, Zach had served their meal and poured the wine. He stood behind her chair, waiting politely.
“Before we sit down, there’s something I need to do.”
The last thing Janine expected was to be lifted in his strong arms. A gasp of surprise lodged in her throat as her startled gaze met his.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s tradition to carry the bride over the threshold, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but you’re doing it all wrong! You’re supposed to carry me from the outside in—not the other way around.”
Zach shrugged, unconcerned. “There’s nothing traditional about this marriage. Why start now?” He made a show of pretending his knees were buckling under her weight as he staggered through the living room.
“This is supposed to be serious,” she chastised him, but no matter how ha
rd she tried, she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.
With a great deal of feigned effort, he managed to open the front door and then ceremoniously step onto the porch. Slowly he released her, letting her feet drop first, holding her upper body close against his chest for a long moment. The humor left his eyes. “There,” he said tenderly. “Am I forgetting anything?”
It wouldn’t hurt to kiss me, Janine told him in her heart, but the words didn’t make it to her lips. When Zach kissed her again, she wanted it to be his idea.
“Janine?”
“Everything’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Not quite,” he muttered. He turned her to face him, then covered her mouth with his own. Janine trembled, slipping her arms around his neck and giving herself completely to the kiss. She quivered at the heat that began to warm her from the inside out. This kiss was better than any they’d ever shared, something she hadn’t thought possible. And what that meant, she had no idea.
Zach pulled his mouth abruptly from hers, but his eyes remained closed. Almost visibly he composed himself, and when he broke away he seemed in control of his emotions once again. Janine sighed inwardly, unsure of what she’d expected.
The next two days flew past. They took long walks on the shore, collecting shells. They rented mopeds and raced along the beach. They launched kites into the sky and delighted in their colorful dipping and soaring. The day before they were scheduled to return to Seattle, Zach declared that he intended to cook dinner. With that announcement, he informed her he had to go into town to buy the necessary groceries. After the first night, he’d given Harry a week off, and Janine had been fixing simple meals for them.
“What are you serving?” she wanted to know when he pulled into the parking lot of the town’s only grocery store. “Tell me so I can buy an appropriate wine.”
“Wine,” he muttered under his breath. “I don’t normally serve wine with this dish.”
She followed him in, but when he discovered her trailing down the aisle after him, he gripped her by the shoulders and directed her back outside. “I am an artist, and I insist upon working alone.”
Janine had a difficult time not laughing outright.
“In order to make this dinner as perfect as possible, I must concentrate completely on the selection of ingredients. You, my dear wife,” he said, pressing his index finger to the tip of her nose, “are too much of a distraction. A lovely one, but nevertheless a distraction.”
Janine smiled, her heart singing. Zach wasn’t free with his compliments, and she found herself prizing each one.
While Zach was busy in the grocery store, Janine wandered around town. She bought a lifelike ceramic sea gull, which she promptly named Chester, and a bag of saltwater taffy. Then on impulse, she purchased a bottle of sun lotion in case they decided to lie outside, tempting a tan.
When she returned to the car, Zach was already there, waiting for her. She was licking a double-decker chocolate ice-cream cone and feeling incredibly happy.
“Did the master chef find everything he needed?” she asked. Two brown paper bags were sitting on the floor and she restrained herself from peeking inside.
“Our meal tonight will be one you’ll long remember, I promise you.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Holding out her ice-cream cone, she asked. “Do you want a taste?”
“Please.” He rejected the offer of the cone itself and instead bent forward and lowered his mouth to hers. As she gazed into his dark heavy-lidded eyes her heartbeat accelerated and she was filled with a sudden intense longing. Janine wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but it felt, quite simply, right.
Although the kiss was fleeting, a shiver of awareness twisted its way through her. Neither of them spoke or moved. He’d meant the kiss to be gentle and teasing, but it had quickly assumed another purpose. For a breathless second, the smile faded from his eyes. He continued to hold her, his breathing rapid.
After nearly two full days alone together, Janine found it amusing that when he finally chose to kiss her, he’d do it in a crowded parking lot.
“I don’t remember chocolate being quite that rich,” he murmured. He strove for a casual tone, but Janine wasn’t fooled. He was as affected by their kiss as she was, and struggling just as hard to disguise it.
They were uncharacteristically quiet on the short drive back to the house. Until the kiss, they’d spent companionable days together, enjoying each other’s company. Then, in the space of no more than a few seconds, all that had changed.
“Am I banished from the kitchen?” Janine asked once they were inside the house, forcing an airy note into her voice.
“Not entirely,” Zach surprised her by saying. “I’ll need you later to wash the dishes.”
Janine laughed and pulled her suntan lotion out of her bag. While Zach puttered around inside, she put on her swimsuit, then dragged the lounge chair into the sun to soak up the last of the afternoon’s rays.
Zach soon joined her, carrying a tall glass of iced tea. “You look like you could use this.”
“Thanks. If I’d known how handy you were in the kitchen, I’d have let you take over long before now.”
He set the glass down beside her and headed back to the kitchen. “You’d be amazed by the list of my talents,” he threw over his shoulder.
Kissing was certainly one of them, she thought. The sample he’d given her earlier had created a sharp need for more. If she was a sophisticated, experienced kind of woman, she wouldn’t have any problem finding her way back into his arms. It would all appear so effortless and casual. He’d kiss her, and she’d kiss him, and then…They’d truly be husband and wife.
Lying on her back with her eyes closed, Janine imagined how wonderful it would be if Zach were to take her in his arms and make love to her….
She awoke from her doze with a start. She hurried inside to change, and as soon as she was ready, Zach announced that dinner was about to be served. He’d set the patio table so they could eat on the deck.
“Do you need any help?” she asked, trying to peek inside the kitchen.
“None. Sit down before everything cools.” He pointed to the chair and waited until she was comfortable.
“I only have a spoon,” she said, after unfolding the napkin on her lap. He must have made a mistake.
“A spoon is all you need,” he shouted to her from the kitchen.
Playfully she asked, “You went to all this trouble for soup?”
“Wait and see. I’ll be there in a minute.”
He sounded so serious, Janine had to smile. She was running through a list of words to praise his efforts—“deliciously unique,” “refreshingly different”—when Zach walked onto the deck, carrying a tin can with a pair of tongs.
“Good grief, what’s that?” she asked in dismay.
“Dinner,” he said. “The only real cooking I ever did was while I belonged to the Boy Scouts.”
As though he was presenting lobster bisque, he set the steaming can in front of her. Janine leaned forward, almost afraid to examine its contents.
“Barbecued beans. With sliced hot dogs,” he said proudly.
“And to think I doubted you.”
Her reservations vanished, however, the moment she tasted his specialty. The beans were actually quite appetizing. He surprised her, too, by bringing out dessert, a concoction consisting of graham crackers covered with melted chocolate and marshmallows. He’d warmed them in the oven and served them on a cookie sheet.
Janine ate four of what Zach called “s’mores.” He explained that once they’d been tasted, everyone asked for “some more.”
“I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay single all these years,” she teased, forgetting for the moment that they were married. “If the news about your talent in the kitchen got out, women would be knocking at your door.”
Zach chuckled, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself.
An unexpected thought entered Janine’s mind
, filling her with curiosity. She was astonished that she’d never asked Zach about other women in his life. It would be naive to assume there hadn’t been any. She’d had her relationship with Brian; surely there were women in Zach’s past.
She waited until later that night when they were sipping wine and listening to classical music in front of the fireplace. Zach seemed relaxed, sitting with one knee raised and the other leg stretched out. Janine lay on her stomach, staring into the fire.
“Have you ever been in love?” She was trying for a casual tone.
Zach didn’t answer her right away. “Would you be jealous if I said I had?”
“No.” She sounded more confident than she felt.
“I didn’t think so. What about you?”
She took her time answering, too. She’d thought she was in love with Brian. It wasn’t until later, after the pain of Brian’s rejection had eased, that she realized she’d been in love with the idea of being in love.
“No,” she said, completely honest in her response. What she felt for Zach, whom she was only beginning to know, was already a thousand times stronger than what she’d ever felt for any other man. She didn’t know how to explain it, so she avoided the issue by reminding him, “I asked you first.”
“I’m a married man. Naturally I’m in love.”
“You’re fond of me, remember?”
“I thought you detested that word.”
“I do. Now stop tiptoeing around the subject. Have you ever really been in love—I mean head over heels in love? You don’t need to go into any details—a simple yes or no will suffice.”
“A desperate-passion kind of love?”
“Yes,” she told him impatiently. “Don’t make fun of me and please don’t give me a list of all the women you’ve been fond of.”
He grew so quiet and so intense that her smile began to fade. She pulled herself into a sitting position and looped her arms around her bent knees.
Married in Seattle Page 12
