by Joanne Rock
He closed his eyes, a shuddering sigh rushing through him.
“I can fight myself, but I’ll be damned if I can fight you, too.”
Her smile—full of victory and feminine wisdom—torched the last of his restraint.
Kissing his way down her body, he dragged her cotton pajama pants down and off, admiring the way her skin looked in the glow from the fire across the room. Bronze flickered with shadow along her pale flesh and black lace panties. He hooked a finger in the skinny expanse of elastic on her hip and peeled that last layer away.
Her smile faded a moment before he dipped his head to kiss the dark triangle above her thighs. She shifted her legs, one smooth calf grazing his shoulder. Her skin smelled like roses—a body oil or soap maybe. Everything about her was familiar and yet different, too.
But the way she tasted...perfect. Just like he remembered.
She made tiny, helpless sounds as he kissed her intimately, losing himself in the feel of her slick heat. She twitched and wriggled, her hips rocking for a moment, her back arching. Then, she went utterly still.
He remembered that, too.
He didn’t let that slow his pace. He gripped her thighs. Steadied her. She came apart with sweet cries, her fingers gripping the sheets and twisting as the spasms rolled over her. When the last seemed to have its way with her, he tasted his way up her hip. Her stomach.
Caroline was having none of it, though. Her hands were surprisingly strong as she locked onto his arms and tried to pull him higher. He gave in to the wordless demand, prepared to please her thoroughly now that he felt sure she was relaxed. Healed.
And very ready for him.
“You did that on purpose,” she accused him breathlessly before she kissed him, attempting to roll on top of him.
“Pleasured you on purpose?” he teased, nipping her shoulder as he let her take charge. “Is that a bad thing?”
“I thought we could...” she reached beneath the covers to peel away his boxers and finished dragging them off his legs with an agile foot “...you know. Find that peak together.”
She straddled his thigh while she stroked him. The sexiest wife a man ever called his own.
“Sweetheart.” He gripped her narrow waist, molded his hands around her hips. “Your memory really has taken a hit if you don’t recall how easily we can get right back to that high point again.”
She gave him that smile again. The one he’d once planned to move mountains for.
“You’re wicked. But you’re right.” She shifted her legs, positioned herself above him and took the sweetest revenge imaginable.
* * *
Time stopped.
Caroline was sure it did for one protracted moment as she reunited with Damon in the most fundamental way.
The night wrapped around them, everything dark and shadowy except for their bodies in the reflected glow of the hearth. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. She breathed in the scent of her soap and his aftershave. Her shampoo and the fragrant applewood smoke.
Damon’s blue eyes locked with hers, communicating things he never shared in words. She couldn’t possibly understand him. She knew this much, though. There was no denying their connection. It had to mean something. The longing for him. Craving him. Missing him.
In her mind and her heart, that added up to a new hope.
“Caroline.” His voice was gruff with unfulfilled desire, reminding her he hadn’t reached that finish point he’d already given her.
Gladly, she lost herself all over again, giving in to the feel of his hands on her hips as he guided her higher. Faster.
This was a language they understood. He made her feel beautiful. Sexual. Desirable. And she couldn’t possibly get enough of him. She wished time would stop again so they could go on and on this way, relishing every shared breath and sigh. But now, the moments sped faster, driving her toward the inevitable as pleasure twined tight inside her.
Just as he’d predicted.
She tried to slow everything down, but she felt the gallop of Damon’s heart, the rush of his need. She had no choice but to hang onto him. To brace herself for...
Sensation gripped her, tossed her in the waves of another heady orgasm that undulated through her again and again. She knew that his completion came at the same time as hers, felt the harsh tensing of his body and heard the guttural shout. Yet she was so lost in what she was feeling, she couldn’t even find the will to peel her spent body off of him for long moments afterward.
She simply curled onto his chest, trying to catch her breath, comforted by the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
In time, he turned them both sideways, easing her off him to lie next to him in the fading firelight from a blaze that needed stirring. It was early yet. They hadn’t even had dinner. But it felt so right to be with him.
Naked. Fulfilled. Happy.
Save for one tiny thought at the back of her brain.
In the past, the aftermath of sex had always been a time for more intimate words. Another sort of connection they’d once enjoyed.
I love you, he might have once whispered in her ear, stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Now, the gentle glide of his fingers through the long strands felt strangely...quiet.
Forcefully quiet.
As if there was an effort not to say anything he might regret later.
Sleepily, she opened one eye to peer up at him, trying to gauge his expression. Brow furrowed, he seemed to concentrate on her hair as if the way he combed his fingers through were of monumental importance.
Because he was busy telling himself it didn’t matter that he no longer loved her?
Probably she was reading too much into the moment. Even though the sex had been as earth-moving as ever, they were still off in their conversational rhythms. They’d been apart too long.
Caroline hoped that was all there was to it. Because if her husband didn’t love her anymore, it didn’t matter how beautiful, sexual or desirable he made her feel.
It didn’t even matter that they shared a child together, although she would hurt more for Lucas’s sake.
No. If Damon didn’t love her, no power on earth could make Caroline stay.
Eleven
Two hours later, Damon cradled Lucas in his arms and stared out into the snowy night through a window that overlooked Central Park to the west. Behind him, Caroline picked at the desserts after the small meal they’d shared in the sitting room of her suite, an informal affair to make it easier to spend time with the baby. His son blinked up at him with wide blue eyes, his expression content. His little face was so familiar now.
With his wife back in his bed, once more committed to being a couple, Damon should share that sense of contentment. Being with Caroline again reminded him that he was in reach of all his goals. Now that his family was secure, he could focus on his company. His son’s legacy.
Except something was still off.
He could feel the disconnect between them now no matter that the sex had been so good it had left them nearly delirious, blissed out and languorous in the sheets together long afterward. Something was missing in their marriage. Something they’d had before and hadn’t recaptured. He felt the loss all the more for having known her full love. The off-the-charts intimacy hadn’t patched the hole left by the lack of trust.
Surely that was the missing piece. Questioning one another, the betrayals and secrets, had left them with a deep uneasiness no matter how hard they worked to be a team. Damned if he knew how to restore that bond.
A brusque knock on the door called him from brooding thoughts. Caroline set down her plate and moved as if to rise.
“I’ll get it.” He strode to the door, not wanting her disturbed.
He’d seen a marked improvement in her health since they’d been reunited and he didn’t want to slow her recovery by stressing her any more.
He enjoyed seeing hints of her competitive spirit return. Some of her natural joy.
Wade stood on the other side.
“Sorry to disturb you.” The guy’s black pants and tee were neatly pressed, but appeared to be off-duty wear, making Damon wonder if there was a problem.
“What’s wrong?” Instinctively, he looked past the guard into the hallway, shifting Lucas to the arm farther from the door.
“You have visitors. We started to run a check on them before we bothered you, but the staff vouched for them. It’s your half brother and his wife, Cameron and Maresa McNeill.” He flipped his phone screen around for Damon to see.
Sure enough, Damon’s doppelganger showed up on the screen—the half brother who looked most like him. “Yeah. We’d better let the family through the door or I’ll get booted out of here.” He had thought Cameron was going to wait until tomorrow to show, but Damon didn’t feel right turning him away when this was his grandfather’s house.
Caroline arrived at Damon’s side, her silky hair brushing his shirt sleeve as she joined him in time to glance at the photo of his relative.
“Just doing my job.” Wade pocketed the phone and nodded an acknowledgment to Caroline. “The housekeeper wanted them to wait in the library, so I sent Joseph to keep a discreet eye on the third floor while they’re here.”
“Dismiss him, but thank you. We’ll go down to them in a few minutes.” He closed the door behind the bodyguard, pivoting to face his wife. “I can make your excuses. I’m sure they’ll understand—”
“I’m eager to meet them,” she surprised him by saying. “I’ll just slip into a dress.”
“Are you sure?” He would have discouraged her if Cam hadn’t brought along his wife. He could hardly claim this was a brothers-only meeting.
“With my own family disintegrating, Damon, I look forward to connecting with yours.” She was already moving toward the dressing room. “You might not care about nurturing a relationship with your grandfather and half brothers, but for Lucas’s sake, I would like him to have the chance to be part of a bigger family.”
Was that a positive sign? Maybe if Caroline felt more deeply connected to the rest of his relatives, he could finally feel like they were a team again. A real couple.
United.
“Very well. If you don’t mind, I’ll take Lucas to the nursery and go down now to greet them. Come downstairs whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” She retreated into the dressing area.
No doubt she wanted to hurry along her preparations. That’s probably why she’d seemed flustered.
But as he departed the bedroom suite where they’d renewed their marriage, he couldn’t shake the sense that Caroline was still holding something back from him. Was she actively keeping secrets from him?
Or did she simply fear—as he did—that her unrecovered memories might reveal deeper rifts in their marriage than he’d ever be able to fix?
* * *
Logically, Caroline understood that integrating herself into the McNeill family wouldn’t magically make her feel like a real McNeill again.
But knowing as much didn’t stop her from throwing herself wholeheartedly into a private conversation with her breathtakingly beautiful sister-in-law as they had after-dinner drinks in the third-floor library. Caroline acknowledged that she’d been too isolated by her father. Even during her time working in New York, away from him, she hadn’t strayed far from her office. Maybe if she’d surrounded herself with a larger network, she wouldn’t have been so susceptible to his control. She would make sure her son had more influences in his life.
Now, she and Maresa were able to speak privately on the couch while Damon and Cameron conversed on the other side of room behind the huge desk that dominated one side of the library.
“So your brother is really happy here?” Caroline asked, sitting beside Maresa McNeill on a huge leather sofa in the mahogany-paneled room surrounded by books and beautiful, antique, Chinese-lacquer panels hung on the walls between the windows.
There was a faint scent of leather and wood smoke from yet another fireplace. Had Damon said there were nine in all? Eleven? Caroline sipped at her port wine and tried to focus on Maresa’s story about her family’s summer relocation to Manhattan. The woman had led an interesting, though difficult life, and had met Cameron while working as a concierge for one of the family’s resorts in St. Thomas. Her mother had multiple sclerosis, and her brother had suffered a traumatic brain injury after a car crash during one of their mother’s seizures. Apparently, both had found excellent health services and opportunities in New York City.
“My brother loves it here. He does landscaping work in a supervised program and is truly thriving.” Maresa shifted on the sofa to face Caroline more fully, her amber-colored eyes striking against her darker skin tone. With her dark curls that ended in golden tips, she looked sun-kissed, even in the gray New York wintertime. “But enough about me. I insisted Cam bring me with him tonight so I could meet you. How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” Caroline wasn’t sure if anyone in this family knew about her ordeal being held against her will, or if the other woman was just curious about how her recovery from childbirth was going. “Damon took me sledding today in the park and it felt nice to be outdoors.”
Maresa bit her lip. “Gabe said you had amnesia. Are you recovering any memories?”
“I may have remembered all that I can, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying and hoping for more.” She wasn’t certain how much to share of her convoluted relationship with her father and the kidnapping she only recalled in pieces because of the drugs. “I’m seeing a new therapist tomorrow though, so maybe I’ll learn some new strategies for digging through the hazy parts of my past.”
“Good.” Maresa reached over to lay a comforting hand on her arm. Her fingernails were painted a soft shade of lilac and a pear-shaped diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds glinted in the lamplight. “The important thing to know is that you’re safe now and your husband loves you. I never saw a man so devastated as Damon when I met him last month—before you returned.”
“Really?” she blurted before realizing that might come across as strange. But Maresa’s words startled her, while also making her heart race. “I mean, I’m sure it was hard for him, but—”
Maresa leaned closer to lower her voice while Cameron and Damon looked over from across the room. “Honestly? I thought Damon looked haunted the first time I met him. He bears a resemblance to my husband, but there was a complete void in his eyes so different from how he looks now.” She grinned and straightened, her gaze seeking the two men for a moment. “It’s obvious he’s found his happiness again. I’m so glad for you both.”
Caroline’s heart squeezed around the words, and the idea of her husband being that hurt by her disappearance. Could Maresa have read him correctly? Caroline was unsettled by how desperately she wanted to believe Damon’s feelings ran that deep. Still...she didn’t know this woman well enough to show her insecurity about her husband’s affections.
“I forgot he came here then—right after he returned from his trip to Europe.” She knew that he’d been searching for her.
So even if Damon didn’t profess his love to her now, didn’t his actions during that horrible time prove that he loved her? Maybe she needed to dig deeper. To try harder to connect with him.
She’d just been so damn rattled by the way they’d laid silently together after making love.
Or what she’d thought had been making love.
With no promises of forever in her ear, no gentle words sweetly spoken, it didn’t feel the same as before.
“Cameron likes him,” Maresa confided. “And between you and me, I don’t think he was prepared to like any of his half brothers. But he came here tonight with Malcom’s power of attorney for the duration of the Transparent board meeting. T
hey’re prepared to help Damon however they can.”
Caroline tensed at the mention of the meeting that was certain to be an ugly showdown between her dad and her husband. Two men she had once loved dearly. Now? She didn’t understand her father, and she feared that Damon no longer returned her love. Whatever Maresa thought she’d seen in him—a new happiness—wasn’t there as far as Caroline could tell.
“Malcolm won’t be there when the board convenes?” She understood that Cameron would have his grandfather’s authority, but she wondered if it would be as effective as having Malcolm McNeill there himself, an internationally recognized face of corporate success.
“You haven’t heard?” Maresa peered toward the men again before returning her attention to Caroline. “I’m sure Damon will tell you after we leave either way. But Malcolm is in Wyoming trying to make peace with the son who disowned him long ago.”
“Liam?” She had no idea there was a rift between Damon’s father and grandfather.
“No.” Maresa shook her head and took a small sip of her port. “The other son that he never speaks about. Donovan.”
Maresa filled her in on a few more details, but Caroline’s brain was stuck wondering if Damon had known about this hidden branch of the family. Had he withheld the news from her?
It was one thing to make excuses for his reticence concerning his love for her after the way this year had torn them apart. But would he purposely shut her out of his private life now?
Then again, perhaps he didn’t know about Malcolm’s other son, either. There was a chance he was only just learning about it from Cameron, the way she’d just learned from Maresa. Perhaps they’d speak about it tonight and her fears that they would never heal the rift between them would be for nothing. She was simply rattled and unsettled because she was beginning to think she’d lost her chance at love.
