The Notorious Groom (Desire)

by Caroline Cross

  “Umm. An hour, maybe.”

  He reached over, grabbed an extra pillow and bunched it behind his head, then pulled her up against him. “So what were you doing all that time?”

  With a sigh of pleasure, she scooted closer and gave in to the temptation to touch him, letting her fingers comb through the downy line of hair that bisected his belly. “Thinking.”

  There was a pause. “About what?”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged. “Different things.”

  “Ah.” He pursed his lips, then said knowingly, “You must’ve been thinking about how great I am in bed.”

  Norah’s hand stilled as she struggled to keep from smiling. It was difficult, since he was great in bed and she had thought about it a lot—and because she knew he was deliberately trying to get a reaction out of her. She tried to sound surprised. “Actually, I wasn’t. How could I when I have nothing to compare with?”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “Complaining already?”

  She smiled despite herself. “Well...no.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Their gazes met. Her stomach hollowed as she felt the infinitesimal hardening of his body where it touched hers, and she realized this was a kind of foreplay. One Eli apparently had every intention of drawing out.

  He picked up a long tendril of her hair and began to trail the ends along her collarbone. “So...if you haven’t been marveling at my prowess, what have you been doing?”

  “Marveling at mine?” she suggested.

  His mouth curved in appreciation. “You’d better watch out, Boo. If you’re not careful, I’m going to start thinking that prim-and-proper thing you had going all these years was just an act.”

  “Don’t I wish,” she said softly, only half kidding.

  “Hey.” Letting go of her hair, he touched a finger to her chin. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Wish you’d been different. Trust me, there’s nothing all that great about being...experienced. Usually it just means you were faced with temptation and caved in, ignoring the consequences. There’s nothing admirable about that.”

  “Is that what happened with Chelsea’s mother?” Norah didn’t know where the question came from. The instant she voiced it, even before she saw the guarded look come over Eli’s face, she knew she’d made a mistake. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” she said hastily.

  He lifted one smooth, tanned shoulder and let it drop. “It’s no big deal. And, yeah, it was something like that.” Just like that day at the Loop, the casualness of his voice was contradicted by a momentary bleakness in his eyes.

  Startled because it seemed so out of character, Norah said earnestly, “Nobody’s perfect. And abstaining from temptation because you’re afraid of life the way I’ve always done isn’t quite the same as being good out of conviction.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me virtue isn’t its own reward?”

  “No,” she forced herself to say lightly. “I’m trying to tell you that in some cases chastity is its own punishment.”

  He shook his head in mock despair, perceptibly relaxing. “And to think I was afraid of shocking you all those years....”

  A faint, teasing smile slowly transformed his face and Norah gave an inner sigh of relief, feeling that she’d somehow managed to deflect a crisis.

  It was a feeling that was strengthened as he pointedly changed the direction of the conversation. “Hey,” he said suddenly. “Did you ever consider my suggestion?”

  “What suggestion?”

  He pointed to the opposite wall. “You know, that you spice up these walls a little. Put a few power boats on the lake. Maybe add some sail-boarders or some guys on jet skies. Give it some action.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s supposed to be relaxing, Eli. Not look like a poster for an Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie.”

  A corner of his mouth quirked. “Really?”

  “Yes. If I want my blood pressure raised,” she added primly, “all I have to do is look at you.”

  His blue eyes glinted. “Do I make your pulse race, Norah Jane?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Is this one of them?” His voice was suddenly husky.

  “It could be.”

  “Maybe we should find out.”

  She shook her head, trying to ignore the way her pulse was accelerating. “I’ll be late for work.”

  “Now that would be a tragedy.” Slowly he peeled away the sheet that covered her, his gaze following its path as it slid over her breasts and down her torso, revealing first the dip of her navel, then the swell of her hips and finally the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. He pushed the cloth to her knees. Much more slowly, he reached up and gently cupped her breast, his long fingers shaping one tender nipple. “Maybe you should take the day off.”

  “I couldn’t,” she said breathlessly.

  “Why not?”

  “What would I say? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a terrible liar.”

  “So don’t lie. Tell the truth.” He took her hand and pressed it against his straining sex. “Tell them something big came up.”

  “Eli!” With a strangled laugh, she shook her head. “You’re bad,” she told him as he shoved the bedding away and rolled her beneath him.

  He grinned down at her. “Yeah. And we both know you love it.”

  Heaven knew, he was right about that, she thought as he lowered his head and his mouth found hers.

  It was a good hour before she made that call.

  “Norah?” Chelsea scrambled up the ladder that led to her bed and plopped down on the mattress. “Are you glad I’m home?”

  Norah glanced sideways, her gaze meeting Eli’s just for a second before she turned her full attention to his daughter. “Of course I am,” she said as she stepped up onto the second rung, the better to see the child. “It was pretty quiet around here without you.”

  Eli made a faint sound that made her want to smile, since she was fairly certain he was regarding his pajama-clad daughter with a combination of affection and exasperation. She didn’t blame him. Chelsea had been talking nonstop ever since she’d gotten back from her trip to the beach late that afternoon.

  They’d heard all about how cold the ocean had been and how she and Sarah had built the neatest sand castles in the whole world for their Barbie dolls. They’d heard all about the Walt Disney movie she’d watched three whole times, how her kite had gotten away and they’d chased it for “miles and miles,” and—clearly the highlight of the trip—how cool it had been to see Keiko, the killer whale, at his new home in Newport.

  Norah had to admit that as much as she loved the child, she was glad it was bedtime. Her ears were starting to ache.

  Chelsea cocked her head. “It was quiet without me? Really?”

  “Really.”

  She was silent a moment, then turned to her father. “Did you miss me?”

  “Sure.” He calmly drew the sheet up to her waist, the light cover all that was needed on these warm summer nights.

  “Then you’re not mad at me?”

  His hands stilled. “Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”

  Chelsea’s brows knit. “I don’t know. Maybe because I went to the beach without you?”

  “Chelse.” He looked at her reproachfully. “I’m glad you went. I was a little worried that you wouldn’t have a good time, but you did, and that makes me happy. I don’t know what you think the problem is. Is something the matter?”

  “No.” She regarded the two of them, her expression speculative. “I just wondered...did anything happen while I was gone?”

  Again, Norah and Eli glanced briefly at each other before he answered. “Sure. Lots of stuff,” he said, sounding nonchalant. “Somebody stole Mrs. Barton’s bicycle from the rack at the park. The Lutheran church held their annual ice cream social. And DiMaggio’s had a buy-one-get-one-free watermelon special.”

  Norah bit her lip to prevent a smile as Ch
elsea gave him one of her “oh, please” looks. “That’s not what I mean. I mean...did anything... special... happen?”

  He pretended to think. “No. Not really.”

  He sounded so sincere, Norah would have believed him if she hadn’t known better.

  Yet, as she’d demonstrated in the past, Chelsea could make a pit bull look like a piker when it came to persistence. “Did you take Norah driving like you said you would?”

  “Sure did.”

  She frowned and turned to study Norah. “You didn’t have an accident, did you?”

  Norah shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “Did you two have a fight?”

  Starting to feel a little worried, since her and Eli’s decision to downplay the altered state of their relationship clearly wasn’t working the way they’d intended, she said softly, “No. Of course not.”

  “What’s this about, anyway?” Eli asked.

  “It’s just...you guys have been acting weird ever since I got home.”

  “We have not,” he said firmly.

  “You have, too.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How, for example?”

  “Like when you both reached for my backpack and then jerked your hands away when they touched.”

  “It was static electricity,” he said with a lightning glance at Norah. “We got a shock.”

  Chelsea’s expression made clear her opinion of that. Norah pursed her lips, amused despite herself by their verbal tussle.

  The little girl narrowed her eyes. “Okay. But how come the two of you keep looking at each other like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you have a secret.”

  “Aw, come on, Chelse. We’re just...sharing our happiness because we’re both so glad to see you.”

  “But—”

  “Look, whether you want to believe it or not, we got along fine without you this weekend.”

  She cocked her head. “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Well... we had dinner one night.”

  “Dinner is good. What else?”

  “We talked,” Norah contributed. “About when we were kids.”

  “And we watched a movie,” Eli added with a note of finality.

  She wrinkled her brow. “That’s it?”

  Eli’s expression grew impatient. “Okay. How about this? I’m going to take Norah to the library fund-raiser.”

  Surprised, Norah turned to stare at him, her eyes widening as she silently echoed Chelsea’s question, “You are?”

  “Yeah.”

  “will you have to get dressed up?” his daughter demanded.

  He looked questioningly at Norah.

  Still stunned, it took her a minute to find her tongue. “I’m afraid it’s black tie,” she said apologetically.

  “What’s that?” Chelsea demanded.

  “That means I have to wear a tux.”

  “A whole one?”

  Again he glanced at Norah, who swallowed a smile at his pained look. “I’m afraid so,” she said solemnly.

  “Wow.” Chelsea’s smile was blinding. “This is so-o-o cool. You hate to dress up. You wouldn’t even do it for the wedding. You guys must’ve had a great time without me.”

  Eli and Norah considered each other.

  “Yes,” Norah said finally, no longer able to contain a smile so deep it felt as if it started in her feet. “I guess we did.”

  Eli stood on the back patio, hidden in the shadows from the upstairs terrace. A few feet away, Norah’s purse and book bag lay haphazardly on the patio table, tipped onto their sides as if they’d been tossed down in a hurry. Likewise, her shoes lay several yards apart, one of them upside down as if hastily discarded.

  He didn’t have to look any further than the lawn for an explanation. It was there that she and Chelsea could be seen taking a break from the late-afternoon heat by running through the sprinkler. Both of them were barefoot, their clothing soaked, their hair plastered to their heads.

  A slight smile curved his mouth as Chelsea slipped on the wet grass and cartwheeled her arms in a desperate attempt to stay on her feet. True to her nature, Norah promptly dashed over to help, only to have Chelsea latch on to her in a desperate bid for stability. They teetered a moment like twin towers of badly stacked blocks. Then they both went down, giggling uncontrollably as they hit the ground.

  Eli shook his head. For obvious reasons, Chelsea’s behavior didn’t surprise him. His daughter was acting true to form, showing off the full range of her energy and mischief.

  But Boo...well, that was a different story. As she sprang to her feet and chased after Chelsea, she bore little resemblance to the scared little rabbit he’d nicknamed Bunny-Boo. Oh, she was still on the quiet side. And she was never going to teach an assertiveness training class, or be accused of being lewd or rowdy.

  But that was fine with him. She had something better—a genuine aptitude for happiness, with none of the artifice of the women he usually dated. And a pure and gentle heart that saw the best of everyone.

  On some level he supposed he still believed they were all wrong for each other. But it was hard to remember why, when she looked at him.

  Maybe that was why he couldn’t seem to stop watching her. And why he had this inexplicable need to try and make her face light up. How else to explain his offer to take her to that damn library fund-raiser? It would be easy to tell himself he’d only done it to reassure Chelsea—except that he knew it wasn’t true.

  A big part of the reason he’d done it was to please Norah.

  All of his life he’d steered clear of women who didn’t know the score, but with Boo, it was different.

  He was different.

  “Hey, Eli!” Chelsea yelled, spotting him as she dashed through the spray of water. “Come play!”

  “I think I’ll pass—”

  “I dare you.”

  He hesitated a moment, but then Norah turned, a shy smile of welcome on her face, clearly unaware of the way her wet clothes were clinging to every slim curve. “Come on. It’s fun.”

  Temptation beckoned. He knew he ought to walk away. But then, like he kept telling Norah, nobody had ever mistaken him for a nice guy. With a shrug, he stepped out into the sunlight, kicked off his shoes, stripped off his sweat-stained work shirt and went to join them.

  Yet deep down, a sense of uneasiness persisted.

  This couldn’t last forever.

  Could it?

  Ten

  “Come on out, Norah. I want to see!”

  Norah took a deep breath at the sound of Chelsea’s eager, imploring voice. Standing in the center of the tile floor, midway between the tub enclosure and the sink, she struggled against the attack of nerves that was making her stomach churn, not certain when—or if—she was actually going to find the courage to leave the bathroom.

  She knew she was being foolish. After all, she was only going to the annual Friends of the Library fund-raiser, held as it always was at the Kisscount Golf and Country Club. This would be the eighth time she’d attended the event; by now it ought to feel old hat.

  It didn’t. Thanks to Eli’s offer to be her escort, she felt as jittery as a teenage girl about to go to the senior prom with her dream date.

  “Norah!” Chelsea said again, a definite note of impatience in her voice.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” she called back.

  She took a deep breath and took another look at herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the door.

  The woman who stared back didn’t look anything like her, she thought, fighting down a fresh wave of panic as she took in the sleek-looking creature in the clinging fire-engine red dress, daringly slit up one thigh. Thanks to the ladies at the beauty parlor where Melanie Rawlins had taken her, her face was made up—a touch of blush, some smoky shadow and mascara, a glossy coating of lipstick. Although lightly done, it was still more makeup than Norah had ever worn at one time in her l
ife.

  Yet that wasn’t why she looked so strange to herself.

  It was her hair.

  Or, more to the point, what was left of it. The bulky bun at the back of her neck was gone. In its place was a soft, thick, tousled cap that hugged her neck, exposed her ears and tumbled saucily over her forehead.

  Norah still couldn’t believe she’d found the nerve to go through with it. And yet, as she turned her head to study the effect from a different angle, she realized again how much she liked the cut. Not just because it made her look more contemporary, but because of the way it made her feel inside.

  Bolder. Braver. As if she were a woman who could go to a library fund-raiser and not fade into the woodwork the way she always had in the past. Who could find the courage to smile and speak her mind and not crumble at the first word of disagreement A woman who was in charge of her life.

  Or who would be once she found the nerve to walk out of the bathroom, she told herself ruefully. And when she did, she was going to show Eli and the rest of the world that she’d changed.

  Scared little Norah Jane Brown was gone. From here on in, she was going to try and think of herself as...Boo Wilder.

  She took another deep breath. “Okay. Brace yourself,” she called to Chelsea. Not giving herself any more time to dither, she opened the door and walked unsteadily into the bedroom, still not used to her new high heels. “Well? What do you think?” she said shyly as she came carefully to a stop.

  Chelsea’s mouth dropped open. “Wow,” she said breathlessly as she sat cross-legged on the bed. “You look... beautiful!”

  Norah smiled at her fondly. “Thank you.” She nervously smoothed the dress over her hips. “You don’t think the dress is too...bare?”

  Chelsea vigorously shook her head. “No. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Eli’s not gonna believe it!”

  Norah wasn’t certain if that was good or bad, and didn’t think she would ask. “Is...is he ready?”

  Chelsea nodded. “He’s waiting out in the hall. He’s all dressed up, too. Wait till you see him. He looks way cool.”

  “I imagine he does.” Norah took yet another shaky breath. Crossing over to the dresser, she picked up her evening bag and checked the contents—a comb, a tissue and a lipstick—knowing she was putting off the moment when she would have to face him. “Are you going to be all right here with Mrs. Barnes tonight?”