by Lynn, Sophia
He found the room after a number of frustrating directions, and he didn't start to relax until he opened the door and found Marnie inside, sitting next to a painfully still Victoria.
"Marnie, what happened?"
Marnie didn't look at him as she explained what had occurred. She kept her eyes on Victoria's face as she told him what the doctor said. Victoria would likely be fine, but just in case they wanted to keep her under observation for the evening. She could probably go home tomorrow. She didn't need to tell him about her fears. He understood all too well as he sat on Victoria's other side, holding her hand.
Once, her eyelids, as fragile as eggshells fluttered, and he thought she looked at him. Then the sedatives took over again, and she was pulled down into a deep sleep.
"Excuse me, but visiting hours are over, and you'll have to leave," the nurse said, and Philip's heart ached at how alarmed Marnie looked.
"Can't I just stay?" she pleaded. "I'll be quiet, I won't even need a bed …"
"I'm very sorry, but hospital rules prevent it unless the patient is more severely affected. You can come back at seven sharp tomorrow."
When it was clear that no amount of cajoling would change the nurse's mind, Marnie seemed to collapse into herself. She allowed Philip to take her by the elbow and guide her out of the hospital. Philip thought that perhaps he should have held back, been more circumspect with a woman who had so recently decided that there was no way they could be together.
Then he saw how helpless and lost she looked, and he knew that he had to help. "Can I take you home?" he asked. "What can I do to help you?"
Marnie looked up at him, focusing on him for what felt like the first time since he had come to the hospital. For a moment, he thought that she would brush him off, but then she took his hand, holding it tightly.
"Please," she said. It was all, but it was enough.
Philip wondered if he was only hurting himself in the long run, but in the end, this was Marnie, and he had loved her for years. He guided her into the cab, and then down the hallway to her apartment. When they were alone, he settled her down on the couch, leaving her alone only long enough to brew her up some tea, hot, sweet, and ferociously strong.
"I want to help," he said softly, coming to sit by her. "I … I don't know what you will allow me to do. At the end of the day, she is your daughter and you know her needs best. But, anything she needs is hers. I know that you can help her, but I have money, I can talk to doctors …"
"They say she will be fine," Marnie said finally. "They say it was just a touch of the flu that got out of hand. She got … so upset when she realized you were gone. The teacher said that she just started crying and couldn't seem to stop until she keeled over. This time, she was fine."
Philip frowned, not liking the sound of that. "This time? Marnie, what do you—?"
She didn't wait for him to get the words out of his mouth. Instead, moving faster and with more confidence than he had seen her use since he arrived, she twisted in the couch towards him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a deep kiss. For just a few minutes, he fell into the kiss, because it was Marnie, and every piece of him craved her. He craved the feel of her, the sweetness of her lips, the warmth of her body, the small whimpering sounds she made as she deepened the kiss even further.
It was sweet, unbelievably so, but then Philip forced himself to pull back. He had never in his life taken advantage of a woman. He would die before he did so. Right now, he was not at all certain that this was what Marnie truly wished.
"Marnie … Marnie, please, talk to me. You've had an incredibly long and rough day. Everything's going to be fine, you know? It's going to be fine, Victoria will be fine …"
Marnie shook her head. "This isn't about Victoria," she said, her voice rough. "Right now, Victoria is with the people who can help her most. It hurts that it isn't me, but that's okay. I understand it. This is about me. This is about us, and what we are to each other and what we can be …"
"Marnie …"
"Touch me," she whispered, looking up at him. Her eyes made him think of deep lakes of purest blue, so cold and clear that you could see her thoughts swimming by. "Please. Kiss me. Make love to me. I need to feel something else now. Please, Philip …"
He was a strong man, but he knew that he couldn't resist her. He never could, if he was honest with himself. He hesitated for a moment longer, and then with the clamor of his body and his heart overwhelming everything else, he gave in and began to kiss her.
*
Marnie had felt outside of herself ever since the doctor told her that Victoria would be fine. She felt as if she were floating, as if she were unreal, and the only thing that made her feel better was when she touched Philip. When he took her by the arm to guide her into the cab, she started to wake up, and what had woken up inside her was a hunger for Philip that could never be sated.
She looked at him in her little apartment, and she came to two decisions. The first was too big, too painful for her to even look at fully right then and there. She would have to deal with it later, and possibly for the rest of her life. The second was that she needed to touch him.
Their kiss started out slow and sweet, but then it felt as if there was no room for anything in the world except for them. She felt him fumble with her clothes, and she squirmed to get out of the dress that suddenly felt too tight, too confining by far. When she was naked, he paused to kiss her bare skin, but she wouldn't have it. She needed him naked as well, and she didn't stop until he rose to remove his clothes with raw, quick motions. The moment he was unclothed, she reached for him again, lying down on the couch and dragging him on top of her.
"Marnie, Marnie, you promise me that this is all right? This is what you want?"
"Yes," she said, and there had never been a more truer statement in the history of the world. This moment, this man, this was what she had always wanted.
His mouth crashed down on hers, and their tongues tangled together, fighting for a dominance that they both craved. She could feel his body, so different from hers, heavy and rough with hair and utterly delicious, pressing down on her, she could feel how hard he was in comparison to her own softness. His cock was already hard and straining, pressed against her thigh.
With a muttered curse, Marnie reached down between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his length, making him groan with need.
"I … I won't last long if you keep that up," he growled, and she shot him a bright look.
"I don't need it to last long," she murmured, her voice harsh with need. "I need you. I need it fast. I need it hard, please, Philip …"
He groaned, burying his face in her neck as he trembled. She knew that he was on the verge of breaking, and that's what she wanted. She wanted him as undone by desire as she was, as infected with the wildfire of need as much as she was.
She whispered in his ear, her lips touching this lobe, and she told him of everything she wanted him to do to her, everything she would do for him. She was a writer, after all, and words had always been her weapon, her salvation. She told him about what she wanted to do with her tongue and her teeth, and how wet she was for him.
"I need you," she said. "Like I need to breathe. I want you, I crave you, I need you inside me, Philip, please …"
With a barely muffled roar, he kneed her legs apart and then threw them over his shoulders. His hands cupped her bare rear, bringing her body up even as he plunged down into her. He filled her with a single stroke, the heat between them as liquid and quick as fire. His strong hands held her steady as he pushed into her again and again, and she reached back to hold on to the arm of the couch as he took her.
Her pleasure was mixed with the intensity of her emotions. She felt as if she was the center of a storm, the one place where all that power would come together. The tension inside her rose and rose, but then he pulled one hand away, bringing it forward to rest at the top of her wet slit.
"
Philip—"
"Goddamn it, Marnie, I will not burn alone …"
His rough words made the heat inside her blaze up higher and hotter, and then his fingers were sliding against the sensitive flesh of her clit. Suddenly, she wasn't in control of her own limbs. She was shaking, crying out over and over again as her climax crashed down on her. Even as she was shaking with need and pleasure, he kept his fingers there, letting her ride it out until she went limp.
Only then did he pick up his tempo, crashing into her like a wave on the shore. She felt the power of his need for her, and she clung to him, as if he were the only safe port in a storm of her own making. When he froze, spilling inside her, she closed her eyes, giving herself up entirely to the ecstasy of being with him.
I love you, she thought. I love you so much …
*
"I want you to take her." Marnie said softly.
He stirred a little, groggy and too tired to understand what she was saying at first. "What?"
"I want … I want her to have everything that you promised her. All of the best. The best doctors, the best schools. I learned today that no matter how careful I am, no matter how much care I take … Philip I can't protect her, and I know that you can."
She lay on her side, her back to him. He could tell, though, from the tremor of her voice, that she was crying.
"Marnie …"
"It's the truth. I've always thought that a mother's job was to do what was best for her child. I see what that is, right now, and it's you. Not me, in this little apartment on my own, but you. You can make her into a … a princess, and …"
"I could make her a princess just as easily by making you my queen," he said softly.
Marnie was quiet. "I don't understand," she said at last.
"I'm through playing," he said, his voice growing in firmness and strength with every moment that passed. "That's what I was doing before. I did all the fun parts of being a parent, and I thought that that was all I was capable of. When you called me, Christ above. I felt as if I was being stabbed through the heart with a steel spike. I had never been that afraid before. And … I was fine. I thought clearly. I wanted the best for her and for you, and I was planning to take care of it. I think I am finally worthy to be her father … and perhaps that means that I am finally worthy to be your husband."
She sat in bed to look at him. Her eyes were red, her hair was a rat's nest, and she looked as if she could be toppled with a feather. Philip thought that she had never looked more lovely.
"Philip?"
"Marry me," he said. "I don't care what my father or mother say. I don't care what's right or proper. Eventually, they'll get over it, and we'll go be a family in Navarra. Maybe we need to spend some time in New York getting our feet underneath us, and I can get a job, or maybe we'll do something entirely different.
"The important thing to me, Marnie, right now, is that we are a family. A real one. I want to be Victoria's father. I want to be your husband. And … Marnie, I love you. I've always loved you, and when I think of the years without you … I never stopped loving you. Will you marry me?"
For a moment she was as still as a statue, her eyes wide and as bright as stars. Then to his shock, she hid her face in her hands, and the only sound he could hear was a sob.
Philip felt a moment of sheer panic. He had spoken from the heart, but what if it wasn't good enough? What if she thought that he couldn't change? Did she not want him? Had he hurt her with somehow careless words?
"Marnie …"
With a strength and speed that surprised him, she reached for him, pulling him close. Surprised, he wrapped his arms around her as she shook. He realized that she was saying something, saying it over and over again, and he bent his head to hear.
"I love you," she said. "I love you, I love you, I love you …"
Philip let go of a breath that he hadn't even been aware that he was holding, holding her even tighter and kissing her on the crown of her dark head.
"So you will?"
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "I do," she said, her voice as soft as velvet. "I love you, and I want to be with you forever. You and I and Victoria will always be a family, and it will be perfect."
"We can tell her when we take her home tomorrow," Philip promised. "Do you think she'll like the idea of being a flower girl at our wedding?"
Marnie laughed. "If you leaving put her in the hospital, telling her that she gets to keep you and that you are her father will send her to the moon!"
*
Four Months Later
"There," said Doreen, touching the glittering diamond blossoms in Marnie's hair. "Perfect."
"I don't feel perfect," Marnie admitted to her soon-to-be mother-in-law. "I feel like I'm going to topple over and drown under fifty pounds of silk and beading …"
The last four months hadn't been easy, but to Marnie's surprise, Doreen had been her staunch advocate the entire way. The uproar when Philip came home with a novelist wife and a five-year-old daughter had been immense, but Doreen had taken one look at a jet-lagged, grumpy Victoria and decided that she would move heaven and earth for her grandchild. Doreen had been the one to smooth the way for Philip and Marnie, softening Alexander's heart before they saw them. Soon enough, the wedding was planned, and now Marnie stood in the bridal chamber of St. Ignacnio, the ancestral church where all the Demariers had been wed for two hundred years.
"You are beautiful, and you will be fine," Doreen said firmly. "Now, I need to get to my own place. Do you need anything else?"
To have eloped four months ago? But she certainly couldn't say that.
Instead, Marnie waited for her musical cue, her trembling hands hidden by her bouquet. She knew that Doreen would make sure that Victoria knew where to go. She knew who would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
The orchestra—there was an orchestra at her wedding!—had been playing the wedding party down the aisle, and after a brief pause, they struck up her bridal march.
She might have been worried about the ceremony, but about the man at the end of the aisle—never. She walked out of the bridal chamber towards the aisle, and when she looked ahead to the altar, she couldn't stop an enormous smile from crossing her face.
At the end of the aisle was her daughter and the man she knew that she would love until the day she died. At the end of the aisle was her future.
When she finally took her place at the altar, Victoria, nervous over all the eyes on her, took her hand tightly, making Marnie smile. She turned to face Philip holding her daughter's hand, and when she saw his black eyes lit up with love for the both of them, she knew that she had found a love story far better than any she could ever write.
THE END
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By: Sophia Lynn
All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2015-2016 Sophia Lynn
CHAPTER ONE
One year ago
Bailey didn’t know what she was going to do. Rent was two months late, and she was fairly sure the only reason she hadn’t been evicted yet was because her landlord was actually in the process of going bankrupt and couldn’t rent out her tiny basement apartment anyway. When she looked in the fridge, she found a stick of margarine, four eggs, and a strange variety of condiments.
The twenty-three-year-old bit her lip, staring at her computer screen. She had been up all night at her night auditor job at the local hotel, and she had gotten next to no job searching done because one of the hotel’s inhabitants had come down to ask her repeatedly if she would join him in his room. He had said he would make it worth her while, and Bailey was horrified when she realized that she’d actually thought abo
ut it for a minute.
I need to get out of here, she thought for what felt like the millionth time, but she had no answer to the next question, which was but where are you going to go?
Last year, Bailey had graduated with a double degree in art history and Arabic studies, close to the top of her class. She was a proud scholarship student, who had made it through her academic career working two jobs while keeping her grades high. She’d had plans to continue her education, but after graduation, things had changed.
In face of losing the student job that was contingent on her enrollment, discovering the high fees to take the advanced placement tests for grad school, and her mother’s sudden illness in Iowa, her plans had gone down like a plane shot out of the sky. As she watched her classmates go on to find jobs in the corporate or art world, she had been left behind in a small apartment that was infested with mice, and in a situation no better than she would have been in if she had skipped college altogether.
Every day, she was a little closer to seeing if the strip club on the shady side of town was willing to hire a skinny twenty-three-year-old who was barely taller than some teenagers. With her plain brown hair and olive skin, Bailey suspected that the answer would be to come back when she looked a little more exciting.
For a moment, she simply gave in to despair. It looked as if there was no way out, and that fancy degrees or no, she would simply be working at the hotel until she died. If she was lucky, maybe she would become a manager someday.
She took a deep breath, opened her ancient laptop, and got to work. At this point, it didn’t matter what the work was or where they wanted her to be. If it would get her out of her tiny college town, she was going to take it.
It was almost two in the afternoon when she looked up, working a crick out of her neck. She noticed that her phone had two messages on it.
