“No. I wanted to make sure you’re all right. You got very quiet at the end of the game. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
She stared at his familiar face. The dark eyes, the high cheekbones, the shape of his mouth. His perfection gave her pause. How could this man ever have loved someone like her? What had she done to deserve him? How could she have been so stupid as to let him go?
A small fire crackled at the far end of the room. Fighting the fear that he would reject her, or worse, say something so scathing she would be scarred for life, she took his hand and led him to the sofa in front of the fire.
“Have a seat,” she said lightly, releasing his fingers and waiting to see if he would join her.
Several expressions darted across his face. Concern, curiosity, mistrust, acceptance.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he settled on the far end of the sofa.
She took the corner opposite. The couch was small and they weren’t that far apart. If he stretched his fingers out along the back and she did the same, they could easily hold hands. Not that that particular piece of information was going to be useful tonight. It was unlikely that Cole was feeling that friendly toward her.
Beyond the snap of the fire and the silence of the room she heard nothing. “Have the others gone to bed?” she asked.
“For the most part. A couple of the older kids are still up reading, but they’re in their rooms.”
So they were alone. She took a deep breath. She had no planned speech, nothing beyond a need to connect.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” she said. “Being with you reminds me of the past. We’ve both changed. I know I’ve grown up in the past five years and now I can see things more clearly.”
He didn’t respond. Except for a slight tightening around his mouth, he might not have heard her at all.
Fear made her shudder, but she forced herself to continue. This was important—for both of them.
“I can see the mistakes I made in the marriage. The biggest one was leaving. I’m sorry I did that. It seemed so right at the time. I thought we’d both already given up on the marriage and there was no point in hanging on to something that was dead. But it wasn’t dead. I think we gave up on our marriage too soon. What do you think?”
Cole stared at her, at the light and shadow from the firelight playing on her face. He’d always thought she was beautiful; tonight even more so. She had an otherworldly quality about her, as if she was some mystical creature more part of a dream than of the waking world.
Did he think they’d given up on their marriage too soon? He couldn’t answer that question—he didn’t dare ask it of himself. If he did, he might unleash a need so powerful, he would be swept away forever. He wouldn’t allow himself to get that lost again. What if he didn’t find his way back?
“Cole?”
She bit her lower lip. Her agony was obvious. She’d put herself on the line and was hoping for some response from him. A word, an action, anything.
He couldn’t speak; the risk was too great. He might say something dangerous to himself. He might admit to a feeling he’d long since buried. So he chose action instead.
He slid across the sofa until their knees pressed together. Moving slowly, so she would understand what he was going to do and have ample time to pull away, he drew her into his arms. But instead of leaning back, she melted against him. Instead of protesting, her mouth parted as if she anticipated his kiss. Instead of pushing to escape, her hands rested on his shoulders and urged him closer.
His lips touched hers. In the back of his mind he waited for the rejection, but it never came. Instead, her mouth clung to his, almost seeking, as if this was what she’d wanted all along.
She smelled sweet and womanly, the scent of her skin as tempting as he remembered. Even knowing she was going to reject him, he angled his head and deepened the kiss.
He pressed his lips against hers, wanting to feel all of her. He brushed back and forth, discovering sensitive skin he’d only been able to dream about. The reality was better than what he’d remembered. While his hands still spanned her back, she was more relaxed than he recalled, her muscles seeming to respond to his touch with quivering awareness.
She slipped one hand up his scalp, moving her fingers through his hair, letting the short strands fall back. With her other hand she squeezed his shoulder, as if anchoring herself to him.
Passion grew. His arousal throbbed in aching counterpoint to his heart. His chest tightened. Blood roared in his ears.
He moved one hand to her neck and touched the soft skin there. She moaned. At the sound, her lips parted slightly and he crept inside.
The moist warmth beckoned. Her tongue met his, brushing gently against him, welcoming. Powerful need flooded him. He held back, not wanting to plunge too quickly, not wanting to frighten her.
As he swept across the sensitive skin of her inner lip, she arched against him. The hand at his shoulder tightened. She tilted her head more, opened her mouth wider, urging him on. He felt himself falling deeper into mindlessness. He knew the danger of going there, but how was he to resist her?
As their tongues circled and explored, as hot, fiery sensations shot through him, he found himself wanting her more than he ever had before.
He moved his hand up to her ear and traced the shell-like shape. She pulled back slightly as a soft giggle escaped her throat.
They broke the kiss and stared at each other. Passion dilated her eyes. With her lips parted and damp from his kisses, she was the most amazing woman he’d ever seen. For reasons he would never understand, the only woman he’d ever loved had returned to his life.
Slowly, tentatively, she pressed her mouth to his. He let her, holding back the need to plunge and claim. Instinctively he understood she needed to find her own pace. When her tongue tested the seam of his mouth, he parted for her. She darted inside, touching tip to tip, before retreating. A shudder rippled through him.
“Cole,” she murmured, then pressed her mouth to his neck. She licked his skin. Every muscle in his body went rock hard. His groin flexed painfully. He forced himself to lower his hands to his sides and not respond.
She discovered him. Like a cat sniffing out a new room, she touched, kissed and even nibbled her way across his neck and up to his face, pausing at some places, returning a second time to others. Cool fingers traced his eyebrows, his cheekbones and his nose. She leaned close and took his earlobe in her mouth. Her sucking motion nearly drove him to his knees. Every cell in his body cried out for release. He wanted to rip the clothes from her and find rest between her silken thighs. Yet he continued to do nothing. The joy of her touching him was better than release. He’d always wanted her to touch him, had always hungered for that kind of contact.
She shifted until she was kneeling on the sofa. Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she urged him to lean back, then she straddled him, settling her hot feminine center against his thighs. He wanted to touch her there. Not sexually, although he wouldn’t mind doing that, but to find out if she was aroused. In the long nights after she’d left, he’d had time to think about what had gone wrong between them. Some of it, he’d admitted, had been his fault. At times he’d taken her when she wasn’t ready. He’d wanted to hold back, but he’d been young and horny, and she’d insisted. With the hindsight of years of loneliness, he realized that he’d been a less than perfect lover.
His excuses were pitiful at best—youthful impatience and fear. Fear that he was going to lose her anyway, but if he claimed her often enough, she might not go. Perhaps he’d secretly wanted to get her pregnant, hoping that a child could make her love him in a way he could not accomplish on his own.
Her mouth against his drew him back to the present. As she bent down, her hair swung forward, concealing them in a private world of golden curls. Her hands rested on his shoulders and her lips parted, drawing him inside.
He couldn’t resist her. He plunged into her mouth, seeking solace and passion in equal measures.
She took all of him, caressing him, moving her hips slightly as if to urge him on.
He took her at her word. He placed his hands on her thighs, then moved them higher up her hips to her waist. There he paused, absorbing the heat of her kiss until his blood boiled and his muscles began to tremble. Only then did he move higher still, slipping around to her rib cage before finally reaching her breasts.
As his fingers gently touched the undersides of her curves, he felt the unmistakable coolness of withdrawal. Her back stiffened and her thighs tightened around his, but not in desire. Her hands pressed against his shoulders and she pushed away.
“Cole, I…”
He dropped his hands to her waist and moved her off him. “Don’t bother,” he said harshly, need reduced to ashes, and anger taking its place. “I remember the message. Look but don’t touch, right?”
He stood and walked to the window. Humiliation tightened his chest. How many times had she done this to him? How many times had he done it to himself? He couldn’t believe his needs and desires were different from any other man’s, yet Elissa had the unique ability to make him feel like a rutting animal.
He heard her speak, yet the images from the past blotted out her voice. He recalled all the times they’d made love because he wanted to. How, despite his requests, she’d never once initiated anything, had never once touched him. He remembered her lying in bed, unresponsive, urging him to “get it over with.” He remembered her turning away. Eventually she’d gotten tired of pretending.
“To answer your question,” he said bitterly. “No, we didn’t give up on our marriage too soon. The mistake was getting married in the first place.”
She had moved up behind him. He saw her reflection in the window. “You can’t mean that,” she said, her eyes dark with pain. “I won’t believe it.”
“Believe what you want, it’s true. You never wanted me. Not from the beginning. It would have been a hell of a lot easier on both of us if you’d had the courage to tell me the truth.”
Pain twisted her mouth. “I did want you. In my way.”
He spun to face her. “What does that mean? You wanted to hold hands and pass notes after class? I’m a man, Elissa. Not some adolescent you can toy with.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right about that. I’m a man, with a man’s needs. I’m not a boy. I thought you were grown up before, and I was wrong. Obviously that hasn’t changed.”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” He glared at her. “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t hate making love with me?”
“Yes,” she said earnestly. “Hate is the wrong word. I was scared and confused. Sometimes you frightened me. I wanted to take things at a slower pace. I wanted to figure out what was going on and not have to worry about losing control.”
Defeat tasted bitter. Elissa didn’t want him and he hadn’t been able to find it in himself to want anyone else. “We haven’t made love in five years,” he said. “It doesn’t get much slower than that. As for not wanting to lose control, you’ve got it all wrong. Losing control is the point.”
Elissa watched him go. It took her a moment to figure out he looked odd because she was watching him through a film of tears. She brushed at her eyes, refusing to give in to that particular weakness.
Everything had gone wrong, she thought grimly. For a moment she’d thought she’d gotten through to him. Then she’d messed everything up.
Old feelings of inadequacy flared up, leaving her feeling small and stupid. What was wrong with her? Why was she incapable of getting even one thing right? She loved Cole and she wanted him back. So the first thing she did was alienate him.
She returned to the sofa and sank onto the cushions. The kissing had been incredible. She’d felt things she’d never experienced before. Her body had glowed as if touched by fire. She’d wanted his hands everywhere. Yet when he’d touched her breasts, she’d reacted badly. Why? He’d never mistreated her or hurt her. Sometimes lovemaking had been uncomfortable, not truly painful. What was she so afraid of?
She closed her eyes and remembered the past. Remembered being with Cole in bed. Her face flushed as she recalled his intensity. Despite the dark, she could feel how he focused on her. The sensation of inadequacy returned. She’d never known what to do and always felt that every move was wrong. She hadn’t liked being naked. How much time did he spend analyzing her physical flaws? Cole had wanted her to touch him, but that had been difficult, too. Touch him where? How? What if she did it wrong? What if she disgusted him? In the end it had been easier to turn away.
“You’re a fool,” Elissa said, covering her face with her hands.
How could she fix what she was doing wrong when she wasn’t even sure what the problem was? She loved him, but she’d loved him before and it hadn’t been enough.
She raised her head and frowned. Last time, love had fought with fear and the fear had won. This time she was determined to change the outcome. She might not know much about sex, but she knew enough to know that Cole had wanted her and for a while she’d wanted him back. What she had to do was figure out a way to capitalize on the desire and keep her fear in check. She was going to have to find a way to get back in his bed. Once there, she would have a fighting chance of finding her way back into his heart.
Chapter Eleven
For the third time in as many hours, Cole left his bed, crossed to the open window and stared out into the darkness. The storm had passed, leaving behind cool air and bright stars. He gazed at the heavens as if God would provide him with answers.
He shook his head. No point in praying for miracles at this point. His life, along with his marriage, was long past saving. Now he would have to learn how to endure without her. He would have to find a way to exorcise Elissa from his being and exist in a gray and hollow world. How hard could it be? He’d managed the task five years ago. By now he should be an expert.
Perhaps those lessons would return to him in time, but for now there was only the hurt and the shame.
You frightened me.
His hands clenched into fists. He who had only wanted to love her and please her had instead invoked fear. He was a monster. The worst kind of man—one who terrifies women.
Self-hatred swept through him as powerfully as the passion had just a few hours before. He tasted the acrid flavor, wondered how long it would be until he could look himself in the eye.
What had gone wrong? Had he been so eager to have her in his bed that he’d misread the signals? He felt like some emotionally deformed creature who should be locked away from polite society, left alone to pay the price for crimes, both imagined and real.
A logical part of his brain reminded him that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Elissa had kissed him back. She’d touched him and had encouraged him to touch her. At no time had he forced her. When he’d put his hands on her breasts and she’d wanted him to stop, he had. He’d behaved like a gentleman.
The logic should have worked. In his head he believed the words. But in his gut he knew they were false. If his wife, if the woman who had sworn before God to love and honor him for the rest of their lives, found him so abhorrent, he must be a monster.
He closed his eyes against the beauty of the stars and remembered a night long ago. Their wedding night, when Elissa had walked into the bedroom in a beautiful, sheer white gown. She’d looked as pure as the virgin she was, as otherworldly as an angel. Yet glimpses of her barely concealed flesh had reminded him she was very much a woman.
She’d been exhausted from the preparations for the wedding and the day itself. At the time he’d thought about telling her they could wait, but when she came and stood before him, rational thought had fled.
He remembered taking her in his arms and kissing her. She’d kissed him back, but not with her usual passion. Still, when he’d hesitated, she’d urged him on. It was their wedding night. It was right that they make love.
Even n
ow he could remember the exquisite pleasure of entering her. How perfect she’d been, how tight. He recalled the barrier of her innocence, her slight cry of pain when he’d broken it, her tears and her blood.
Now he realized he should have waited until the next morning. He should simply have held her all night, letting her get accustomed to their newfound intimacy. When they were both rested, he should have kissed her until she was mindless with passion, then he should have pleased her in other ways before entering her.
But he hadn’t. That one night had set the pattern for the rest of their marriage. A marriage where Elissa “offered” and he took. No matter how he tried to give back, she refused to let him please her. The more she withdrew from him, the more desperately he needed her, until they were caught in a cycle that had only one escape.
He leaned against the windowsill. Nothing had changed. He would be a fool to let himself think it had. All he could do now was make sure he didn’t repeat the same mistakes he had tonight. He would avoid her both physically and emotionally. He would distance himself until she was gone, then once again he would learn to live without her.
At least he’d protected himself in one area. This time he’d managed to keep from falling in love with her again.
* * *
Saturday morning Elissa and Millie lingered over breakfast. “We should really start our day,” the older woman said cheerfully, but made no move to leave the table.
“Agreed.” Elissa’s response wasn’t quite as perky, but then she wasn’t glowing the same way Millie was. Obviously her friend had enjoyed the night in her husband’s arms. Her eyes were bright, her expression a combination of contentment and self-satisfaction.
“Or we could have another cup of coffee.”
“That sounds great.”
Millie chuckled and reached for the pot. They were the last two people in the dining room. The children had eaten quickly, then rushed out to begin their last full day of the program. The adults had followed more slowly.
Millie looked around at the groupings of tables. “This is a wonderful facility. The children have enjoyed their time here. As no one else is going to know to say it, I will. Thank you for paying for this.”
The Secret Wife Page 14