When she realized she was pregnant, her mother made the decision not only to keep the baby, but also to not tell the father. Her mother hadn’t wanted to derail his dreams of becoming a doctor by presenting him with a child conceived on vacation. So, she’d given up her ambition, her desire, to become a nurse and work in Africa with Doctors Without Borders. Instead, she’d been a single mother and worked in retail. And not once complained.
Crescy flopped in the bed again. Sleep wasn’t going to come tonight, not when her brain was full of confusion and her body hummed with need for Marcus. She climbed out of bed and sat on the front porch watching the night turn to day. Her situation was different from her mother’s. She and Marcus were older. They both already had careers, although where hers was going she still hadn’t worked out. Maybe they only had the vacation. Maybe they had more. The one thing she did know was that sitting on the porch wasn’t going to answer that question.
The screen door creaked open, making her jump. She turned and Aunt Gloria handed her a cup of coffee. “So, what have you decided?”
She gazed up into her aunt’s loving face. “I’m going for it.”
***
Three hours later, Crescy shifted her weight from one foot to the other and smoothed some non-existent wrinkles from her sundress. She should have thought this through more, come up with a plan instead of standing outside a man’s hotel room door, holding a tacky souvenir and a box of condoms. There was no going back. She knocked on the door and held her breath.
“For God’s sake, Liam, it’s not even nine o’clock. I only just…” Marcus’s voice trailed off when he realized she stood at his door. He wore a pair of boxers, his hair rumpled, his eyes half closed with sleep.
“Crescy,” he whispered.
“You left your Pitons in the van.” She held up the bag with the pointy plaster mountains. Her mouth went dry. Definitely needed a plan next time.
His face creased into his lazy, sexy smile and the breath she’d been holding came out in an audible whoosh.
“Thank you. I’d hate to lose my Pitons. No tour today?”
“No, the van is still broken. Uncle is looking into renting one, but it won’t be for at least two days.”
“Well, since you don’t have to rush off to work, would you like to come in?” His tone was formal, the passion that blazed in his eyes anything but. Still, he seemed to be holding back for some reason. He opened the door wider and stepped aside so she could pass.
The bedroom door was open and through it she could see a very crumpled bed. Crumpled and empty. “I’ll just… I’ll just put them down here then.” She placed the souvenir on the coffee table and gazed around. It was a nice room, spacious, with a separate bedroom. When she asked at reception, she worried Marcus and Liam would share a room and she’d have to explain her presence to the younger brother.
When she turned back to Marcus he stood so close she had to raise her head to look him in the eye. He looked at her with lust and sadness. Was she too late?
“Crescy, what’s in the other bag?”
“Nothing.”
He took the bag from her, peeked inside, then dropped it onto the coffee table next to the Pitons souvenir. His eyes searched her face.
“I can offer you nothing beyond the next week, Crescentia. Our time together has to end when I leave St. Lucia. I don’t want to be like your father…”
Her heart fell. He wrote fiction. He told the truth. At least he hadn’t strung her along with promises of a future he wouldn’t give her.
“My father never promised my mother forever, either,” she whispered. Could she do this? Enjoy the moment without thought to the future? Would knowing that she’d never see him again after next week be enough to stop herself from falling in love with him? Could she settle for a week of bliss over a lifetime of what-ifs? Could she bear to leave?
If only he’d touch her, but his hands were clenched in fists at his side. She had to make this decision on her own, with no coercion from him. She gazed into his green eyes and knew it was already too late. Whether they said goodbye today, or a week from now, it wasn’t going to change the way she felt. She wanted him. For now it seemed enough. At least she’d have a plethora of memories to keep her warm on cold New York nights. Besides, didn’t the saying go that you regret more the things you didn’t do, rather than the things you did?
She put a hand on his face; he looked so distressed. “A wise woman once told me you have to seize what life offers, or it will pass you by and you’ll have nothing. If all we have is this week then so be it.”
He pulled her to him then, her body melted against his. “Are you sure, Crescy?”
In answer she pulled his head down and kissed him with all the passion in her. He hesitated for a second in returning her kiss and for that time her heart faltered. Before she could pull back he swept her up, grabbed the bag of condoms off the table, then carried her through to the bedroom. He lay her on the sheets and stood back, as if examining a painting.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice husky.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare?”
“I’m deciding whether to start at the top or the bottom,” he said, his cheeky grin back.
“Start, dammit.”
“Crescentia, I’m shocked. Patience is a virtue.”
“I’m not feeling particularly virtuous at the moment.”
He laughed and some of the tension eased from her body. This was supposed to be fun. Besides, two could play at this game, and judging by the shape of his boxers he wasn’t far from ripping her clothes off and ravaging her.
He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his index finger from her right ear, across her lips, down her neck and along the V-neck of her dress then back up the other side. Her nipples tightened and a burning heat invaded her lower abdomen. Still, he continued the slow caress. When he reached her lips again she pulled his finger into her mouth and sucked on it, her gaze holding his. He drew in a deep breath. Her hand let go of the sheet and rested on his knee for a second, before starting its own leisurely journey up the inside of his thigh. She crossed at the junction and then proceeded down to his other knee.
“No fair,” he gasped out as she began another ascent of his leg. “You have more clothes on.”
“I’m all for fairness.” She reached behind her neck and undid the tie that held the top of her dress on. She peeled it down before shimmying out of it. Now she wore only a pair of black lace panties. “Better?”
“Oh, yes.” He stretched out beside her, propped his head on one hand and still used the one finger to trace her curves. Without the barrier of her dress, he circled first one nipple, then ran down and across to the other, repeating the journey until she groaned. His digit then slid down her stomach and paced the top of her panties, sending her nerves skidding into confusion. He had her hovering on the edge of insanity. God help her if the rest of his hand joined in the party.
He traced his way back up to her breast before his hand cupped it, his thumb rubbing the nipple until she thought she’d scream. She reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his head down to her chest. His mouth joined the thumb in tormenting her breasts, and she reached down with her other hand and found his rock hard erection. She used her index finger to trace the length of him, circling his nib several times before returning to base camp. This time the groan that rent the air came from his throat.
“Lesson learned. Patience isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he whispered against her skin. His tongue replaced his finger and within minutes she was writhing beneath him. Both their underwear disappeared somewhere and he continued his exploration of her body, moving his own out of the way when she tried to grab him.
“Now, Marcus. Please,” she said when the tension in her rose to epic proportions. He grabbed a condom from the bag and sheathed himself. His eyes met hers and he slid into her, inch by glorious inch. Their gazes were still locked when the world spun out of control.
<
br /> Chapter 6
Marcus lifted his head from the pillow and gazed across at his companion. Crescy lay with her eyes closed, a delicious smile on her full lips. The sheet that covered them in the night had slipped to her waist, revealing her voluptuous curves. For a week now they’d spent every minute together—in bed, in the shower, on the deck of the private villa they’d moved to after their second night at the resort… and still he didn’t have enough of her. He’d never have enough. She filled his world to bursting and he didn’t know how he would ever go back to emptiness.
It was their last day together. Liam had gone back to San Francisco earlier in the week. He’d claimed that as Marcus was so preoccupied with Crescy there was no point him hanging around. But he would be returning tonight, on his newly purchased private jet to take Marcus back to California in the morning. He’d thought long and hard about whether he could stay for another week, another month, the rest of his life, short though it may be.
The realist in him said it was time. Since he’d met Crescy he hadn’t written a single word of the book, which was due to his editor in three months. It was the first time since he began his writing career he hadn’t written for a whole week. He hadn’t once felt the need to lose himself in fiction when his present circumstances were in the realm of fantasy. However, he knew the longer he put off saying goodbye, the harder it would be. The hour was imminent and he still didn’t know how he was going to do it.
For the hundredth time this week he contemplated telling her about his health issues. He’d been able to hide his meds and take them surreptitiously, and as far as he could tell she had no clue he was dying. It was a perfect week, full of laughter and lightness. Just what he needed. If it were to change, if Crescy were to find out and pity him, or cry for his situation, then the whole thing would be ruined. He’d go home remembering her tears and not what fun they had. It was selfish, but he wanted to end the week on a high. He wanted to live the fantasy that he had a normal life for once. He wanted to take this memory to his grave. Still, his stomach knotted as he continued to stare.
Damn it, he’d fallen in love with her. He loved her smile, her laughter, her exuberance for life. But he couldn’t tell her that either.
Crescy turned in the bed and opened her eyes, and he lost a little more of his resolve in their dark depths. The smile on her face widened and she reached a hand out and traced the line of his mouth with her finger, pulling down provocatively on his bottom lip.
“You spend a lot of time looking when you could be touching,” she whispered. Her touch jumped from his bottom lip and ran down the center of his chest to where the sheet was pooled at his waist. His erection throbbed with a need that seemed unquenchable.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he replied, his hand making a similar journey, only his rebounded and then ran lazy infinity signs around her nipples, which hardened under his touch.
“You mean you didn’t want to wake me again.” Her attempt at reproof was lost in the deep, shuddering indrawn breath as his lips took over on her breast.
“Yeah, figured you needed some sleep,” he said, blowing on her nipples that were wet from his tongue. He’d woken her twice in the night to make love.
She moaned and arched her back, wanting more. “I can sleep…another day.”
His heart protested her subtle reference to the end of their time together. Determined to leave her with a memory she’d never forget, he licked and sucked, caressed and feathered touches over her until she called out his name, and a few Creole words she only used when she was writhing beneath him. He wished he knew a different language so he could tell her how much he loved her without her knowing. It was too cruel to say he loved her and then let her go. He’d have to use his body to show her how much she meant to him.
“What time is Liam arriving?” She lay atop him half an hour later.
“He said around dinner time. Let’s go out to eat.” His hands, unable to stop touching her, ran down her back, over her curvaceous bottom and back up again. He could sculpt her in clay from memory. It wouldn’t be the same.
“Probably be a good idea seeing as how our last few dinners have ended up with one or the both of us naked.” Her purr of laughter vibrated through his body.
He closed his eyes, searing the memory into his brain.
He couldn’t go. He couldn’t stay.
***
Liam arrived at six and Marcus ignored the censure in his younger brother’s eyes. Crescy glided into the room, a gorgeous soft orange colored dress showing off her amazing skin tone. She glowed, whether from a week of constant loving, or the twenty minutes he’d spent rubbing cream into her skin, he wasn’t sure. Her full lips curled into a smile when she saw Liam, no hint of any pain she may be experiencing at the thought of the imminent parting. Marcus clenched his fists tighter and fought the urge to push his brother away as they exchanged purely platonic kisses of greeting.
“We have reservations at the Plantation House for seven o’clock,” Marcus said, trying hard, so hard, not to glare. Liam had kept his arm around Crescy, who didn’t seem to mind.
“There’s plenty of time, Marcus. Your brother just arrived. Would you like a drink, Liam?” Crescy played the gracious hostess and he had to bite his tongue. This was a bad idea. They should be spending their last night alone, not entertaining.
“Thank you, Crescentia. I’ll have a glass of red wine,” Liam responded.
As she went to get the drink, Liam’s eyes bore into him.
“You haven’t told her,” his brother said through clenched teeth.
“It’s none of your business.”
He was saved from further abuse from Liam as Crescy returned with the wine.
“How is America? I haven’t watched the news once since I’ve returned, you know. I used to be such an information junkie in the States. Here it doesn’t seem to matter.” She sat on the overstuffed sofa and crossed her long, shapely legs. She seemed so at ease, so casual. Marcus felt as though he was being repeatedly kicked in the gut.
“Still the same,” Liam said and sat as well.
Marcus paced the room, too wound up to sit.
“So, what will you do next week without Marcus to monopolize your time? Will you go back to tour guiding?”
Not even a shadow crossed her eyes at Liam’s blunt question, whereas his vision blurred for a moment. He sank into the chair behind him and tried to surreptitiously check his pulse. This would not be a good time for his heart to stop, although the pain in his chest wasn’t what he normally experienced. He expected Liam to ask how he was, but his brother continued to stare at Crescy as if she were the light in his day.
“No, my cousin Morris, Uncle Eric’s son, has taken over the guiding. Morris lost his job in the UK and came back home for a visit and volunteered to help out. Uncle Robert is well enough to ride along, and it’s doing him good to get back to work. He’s a people person and being at home was making him depressed. So I’ll leave it to the two of them. I was only a stop gap anyway while Uncle recovered. I don’t have the right temperament for the business. Not sure what I’ll do. I guess go back to New York and sort out a few things there.”
Liam nodded and then asked her about a few places in New York he’d been to, favorite restaurants and recommendations for his future visits. The two of them chatted away as if Marcus wasn’t even in the room.
“Well, we should probably go,” Crescy said when Liam placed his empty wine glass on the table. She grabbed her handbag and a wrap and glided toward the door. “Are you coming, Marcus?” she asked as he still sat in the chair.
Liam shot him another malevolent glare before taking Crescy’s elbow and escorting her out the door, leaving Marcus to lock up.
***
Crescy sipped her cocktail and smiled at Marcus across the table. Liam had snagged the seat next to her, much to his brother’s disgust.
The waiter placed her final course in front of her, death by chocolate, which would be her second favo
rite way to go. The first being dying in Marcus’s arms from too much, well, too much Marcus, if there was such a thing. But as that was in limited supply, and about to become unavailable, she’d have to do with demise by dessert.
The other thing she now had on her list was to look into acting lessons when she returned to the States. She obviously had a talent for it, given how she was able to remain collected while inside she was a seething mess of emotions. Knowing the week was all they had hadn’t been enough to stop herself falling in love with him. Marcus was smart, funny, and caring, and he made her feel wonderful. With him, she’d regained her zest for life that her work in New York had all but snuffed out. But, obviously, Marcus didn’t feel the same.
She smiled again at Liam as he talked about buying a place on the island, saying everyone needed a little island escape to keep them sane. If Liam came back, would Marcus? Would he expect her to be waiting, at his beck and call? His annual vacation retreat, complete with mistress? Well, she wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t be relegated to a once-a-year romance. She had more self-respect than that. Although glancing through her lashes at Marcus she wasn’t so sure. At least it didn’t seem like he was having a good time. In fact, he appeared downright miserable.
She hadn’t asked why their affair had to end. She had too much pride. She’d gone into this open eyed, so the only thing to do was walk out with her head held high, even if it was in the middle of the night. There was no way she was going to be able to leave him and not cry. Better to disappear in the night when he wouldn’t see her tears. She had it all arranged. Now all she needed was the guts to carry out her plan.
Marcus pushed his dessert around his plate.
“I thought you liked pemmie? You had it at my aunt’s house last weekend.”
He stared at her then, raw pain in his eyes. “Your aunt’s is better.”
Miss Guided: a Guide to Love novella Page 6
