“I know.” Maggie smiled and cuddled into the warm curve of his arm. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” she said, as she rested her head on his shoulder. “It was one of the things I loved most after my brothers had left my care and all gone off to college.” She sipped her wine slowly, loving the mellow feeling of just hanging out with him, because they wanted to be together. Loving the feel of him next to her, so warm and solid and strong. “Of course, holidays were different,” Maggie continued, as Jake absently stroked the curve of her shoulder. “Then, things were as noisy and clamorous as ever. Noisier, actually,” Maggie amended with a smile. “Everyone was so glad to be home.”
Jake gently stroked her hair. “You love your brothers, don’t you?”
Maggie nodded, as contentment seeped through her. “Very much.”
Jake laid his free left hand over hers and twined his fingers with hers. “I meant what I said before. I’d like to meet them.”
Maggie smiled, imagining that very well. “Perhaps one day you will.”
“In the meantime…” Jake grinned. He took the wine out of her hand, put it aside. Standing, he helped her to her feet, murmuring, “Alone at last”
The low satisfaction in his voice…the promise of what was to come…had Maggie tingling from head to toe.
She liked that he had taken his time, spending the evening with her, instead of rushing her right to bed. Though now, it seemed, his patience in that area was exhausted. Which in turn, prompted Maggie to tease impishly, in her thick Southern drawl, “Why, Jake MacIntyre, you act as if you wanted this to happen.” Admitting to herself all the while that she had been desperately wanting and waiting for this time together, too.
“You don’t know how much,” Jake murmured, bending his head to hers. He took her in his arms and kissed her, gently at first, then with sizzling intensity. The tenderness in his touch, coupled with his desire for her, kindled the hope that they would have a future together one day, if only she gave him time.
Wordlessly, Jake swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs, to his bed. In a move that was every bit as masterful as it was unnecessary, since they were quite alone in the ranch house for the entire weekend, he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot, and carried her over to the bed and laid her down. Parting her knees with his, he braced a hand on either side of her and situated himself between her thighs. “Oh my,” Maggie breathed. He had never behaved quite this way before.
“You’re not supposed to say that yet,” he teased, taking a wrist in each hand and slowly anchoring them above her head. “But you will,” he promised, kissing her slowly, sensually and with breathtaking intensity. “When the time is right.”
His promise made, he kissed her until their bodies melded in boneless pleasure. Dizzily, they stopped long enough to undress and come together once again. She wanted to touch and caress him. To make this a mutual giving of pleasure, but he was insistent that he be the one in control, that he be the one whose hands and lips stroked down her body, again and again and again, until she twisted against him, no longer able to bear it. Until she shook with her need for him and made a low, whimpering protest. “Jake…Jake…”
“Now?”
“Yes. Yes.” She was desperate to have him inside her, desperate for the intimacy to come.
Driven by the same frantic need as she, he paused only long enough to sheath himself in a condom and slide a pillow beneath her hips. They locked eyes and she opened herself to him, offering herself to him, heart, body and soul. Hoping that he did want a wife. Want her.
Taking everything she offered, giving her physically what he could not yet promise her emotionally, he lowered his mouth to hers once again and surged into her slowly, deliberately. Still kissing her passionately, he lifted her against him. She followed the pressure of his hands and arched against him as he entered and withdrew in repeated shallow strokes that soon had her breathing erratically and reaching for some distant, lofty point. Until he too lost the control he had imposed upon himself. And suddenly she was there. Shuddering in overwhelming release. And so was he.
After the lovemaking, he held her close, as unable and unwilling to untangle their bodies as she. And it was then that Maggie thought again about their future and recalled his earlier words. And she knew she had a promise to make to him, too. “One day, Jake, the time is going to be right for so many things,” Maggie whispered lovingly, clasping him to her, as the aftershocks continued to tremble through her body and his. Ignoring the doubts and fears that immediately surfaced in his sable eyes at any mention of the future, she wreathed her arms about his neck and pulled his head down to hers as she kissed him even more thoroughly. Feeling his immediate, powerful response, she promised with a confidence she could only hope was catching, “We’re going to have everything, you and me. You’ll see.” Before they knew it, they’d be announcing their engagement in the Houston paper for all the world to see. And Maggie would at last have the life she had always dreamed.
Chapter Thirteen
It had been years since Jake had taken off work for more than a few hours at a time. Spending all of Saturday evening, and all day Sunday talking, laughing and making love with Maggie was a revelation. He hadn’t imagined he could enjoy so much leisure time, but he had, to the point he was tempted not to answer the doorbell when it rang at 7:00 p.m. Sunday evening.
Maggie looked at him and shrugged. “Ten to one, it’s not for me,” she drawled.
Jake hoped not.
Maybe it was selfish of him, but he did not want anyone intruding on the intimate paradise they had fashioned for themselves. The reality of their lives and disparate dreams would intrude soon enough. Right now, all he wanted to do was make love to Maggie again, and then hold her in his arms all night long.
The only thing was, the doorbell was for her.
“PETER!” Maggie threw her arms around the sandy-haired man’s neck. In a white mesh and opaque maillot swimsuit that rivaled anything she had worn in her Sports Illustrated days, the hint of a day spent in the sun glowing in her skin and hair, Jake was reminded she’d had a fulfilling life before she met him, and would no doubt have one after she left. “For heaven’s sake, what are you doing here!” Maggie exclaimed, as she enveloped their visitor in a warm Texas-style hug.
Ruining my evening, Jake thought jealously as he suffered through the quick cordial introductions Maggie made.
After shaking Jake’s hand and, Jake thought, sizing him up, Peter let Maggie steer him into the living room. Peter sat on the sofa. Jake took an armchair. Maggie perched on the arm of Jake’s chair and situated herself between the two.
Peter leaned forward earnestly. “I wanted to talk to you in person about that deal I made for you with Beautiful You Cosmetics.”
Maggie put her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I quit modeling, Peter.”
Peter smiled. “They don’t believe you’re serious and neither do I, which is why they are offering a cool three million for a two-year exclusive contract with you. You wouldn’t have to do anything else, and they’d only require you to work three months a year.”
“Right,” Maggie replied with an ironic look at her former agent. “And those three months would actually be spaced out, maybe two days a week, for the entire two years. I’d have to go all over the country and Europe, too, wherever their cosmetics are sold, making personal appearances.”
“So what?” Peter shrugged. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before and it would still give you five days a week free.”
Maggie shifted her weight restlessly, the silky warmth of her thigh brushing Jake’s arm in the process. “And if I happened to get married and pregnant in the meantime, what then?” she asked the New York deal maker.
Peter paused.
Maggie’s hand tightened on Jake’s shoulder and her blue eyes flashed. “There’s a clause in the contract that makes it null and void if I do get pregnant, isn’t there?”
“So what?” Peter replied. Unlike Jake, he had no pro
blem with the idea of Maggie starting a family right away. “If you get pregnant, you can stop modeling for Beautiful You Cosmetics and start modeling maternity clothes.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and regarded Peter with exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you?”
Peter smiled persuasively. “Not on you, no, I don’t.”
“SO WHAT ARE YOU going to do?” Jake asked, the moment Peter Lassiter had left. The depth of his jealousy and possessiveness he felt for Maggie disturbed him. Technically, he knew this was none of his business, as he had no real claim on her. He also knew his feelings were not likely to change. So maybe he should get a claim. But what kind? She had already said she wanted everything he knew he would never be able to give to her…and he knew she would never be satisfied with less. Whatever happened, he did not want Maggie to be unhappy, and certainly not because of him.
“What do you think I should do?” Maggie asked.
Jake shrugged. As much as he wanted to influence her decision, he knew he had no right to do so, not with what little he was offering her. “It really isn’t up to me, Maggie.”
Briefly, disappointment glimmered in her eyes. He knew what she’d been hoping he would say—that he didn’t want her to go. But he couldn’t, not given the way things were. “I’ve got no right to stand in the way of what you want,” he told her quietly.
Maggie knew she loved Jake in a way she had never loved anyone else, or ever would. There was a part of her that wanted to stay with him, on any terms. And another part of her that knew she deserved more than what he had offered her thus far, which was simply a very passionate and exciting love affair.
“So what are you going to do?” he repeated, coming closer.
Maggie knew Jake needed a wake-up call; maybe this was it.
“You heard me tell Peter I wasn’t interested in the deal,” she told him. And hoped—wished—he would show some relief. Instead, his expression remained remarkably impassive, under the circumstances.
“I also heard him say he’d call you in a few days,” Jake remarked casually.
“That’s just the way Peter operates,” Maggie announced carelessly as she sashayed barefoot into the kitchen to start dinner.
Though Jake had changed into jeans and a shirt after their swim, Maggie seemed content to lounge around in a swimsuit. She continued, “He doesn’t give up, on anything or anyone.”
What about you, Maggie? Jake wondered. Do you give up? Somehow the thought that she might keep trying to wear his resistance down when it came to marriage and children wasn’t as daunting as it should have been. Especially given the fact he knew he was not going to change his mind in the end. He’d already given all he had to give. And it hadn’t been enough. Just like it wouldn’t be enough for Maggie.
“If you want to take the job, it would be okay with me,” Jake said finally, forcing himself to be a lot more generous and understanding than he wanted to be, wishing like hell he did not feel so damn vulnerable where she was concerned. And yet somehow he knew this was not something that was going to change, either. She wanted to think he was just being muleheaded about this and would eventually change his mind. But a part of him feared his recalcitrance went much deeper than that.
“I don’t need your permission, Jake,” Maggie reminded him wryly. Her pulse racing, she took the makings for a salad out of the refrigerator and slammed the door with a shove of her foot, then paused to give him a pointed look. “Nor do I recall asking for it.”
“You’re right.” Jake regarded her stoically, aware a reckoning of sorts had come all too soon. “I just thought you might want my blessing.”
“I see.” The impact of his words hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. Hurt and disappointment flickered across Maggie’s face. “And you’re giving it?” she asked tersely, her blue eyes suddenly glistening.
Considering what he was offering her, a temporary place to stay and an open-ended, no-strings affair, what right did he have to comment on anything she did? “I’m just telling you I won’t mind, that it won’t make any difference to me,” Jake said, as he put two potatoes into the microwave. Hell, he thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, losing her to modeling, instead of another man. He could handle the thought of her working. Maybe even returning to see him from time to time.
Maggie stopped in the act of washing the lettuce leaves. She had to stay calm. Try to reason with him. Make him see what they’d be giving up. Her hands dripping water onto the countertop and floor, she regarded him wordlessly. It didn’t take an army spy to see the war going on inside her.
“And I guess the clause forbidding me from getting pregnant works for you, too.”
They had skated around the subject of babies effectively thus far this weekend, there was no more doing so. His expression rueful, he replied as gently and firmly as possible, “I told you I wasn’t interested in marrying or having any more children, Maggie.” His eyes held hers, reminding her he had not misled her about this, not in the least. Nor would he in the future. “I meant it,” he said quietly, and would have given anything not to have seen the flash of hurt and devastation in her blue eyes.
Maggie shoved a hand through her hair. “Right.” How could she have forgotten? Struggling to keep hold of her emotions she went back to washing lettuce leaves with swift, jerking motions. “But you are interested in making love to me.”
He stepped in to help her. “Yes, I want to make love to you,” he said, as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the double sink. Nothing had meant as much to him as the time they had spent together. The only time he felt truly and completely alive was when he was with her—in bed and out. Surely, no matter what else was wrong between them, she had to know that.
Maggie stiffened as they washed the last of the greens and put them into the spinner to drain. “I see,” she said with a weariness that seemed to come straight from her soul.
Did she? Jake wasn’t sure.
Determined she not think his attitude a careless disregard of her feelings on the subject, Jake turned her to face him, took her damp hands in his and searched her eyes. In a voice much more emotional than he would have liked, he told her quietly, “I can’t pretend my outlook is the same as yours, Maggie, because it just isn’t.” He paused, struggling to curtail the avalanche of emotion that welled up inside him whenever this subject came up. “As much as part of me would like to, I can’t go back to being the idealistic, hopeful man I once was, because I no longer trust in the happily-ever-after.” And that, he thought, was putting it lightly. Because of what had happened to Louellen and their child, he had become, at heart, a pessimist in the extreme.
Maggie looked at him through a film of tears. “You could trust in the future, if you’d just try,” she said thickly.
“No, Maggie,” Jake told her sadly, knowing as difficult as it was for her to hear, that he was speaking only the truth. A part of him had died with his wife and child, a part that would never be resurrected, no matter how much Maggie or anyone else tried.
“I don’t have it in me to marry again or risk having another child. Ever.” He paused. Seeing the pain he was causing her, he tightened his hold on her fingers and struggled—this once—to put her needs and wants ahead of his own. “Knowing how much you want a family of your own, seeing what a fine mother you would make…part of me can’t even blame you if you were to walk out on me now,” he said with as much equanimity as he could manage.
“Part of you might even want that?” Maggie guessed.
Much as he wanted to, Jake knew he coudn’t deny that he wanted to see her happy in ways he’d never be able to manage. “Maybe,” he admitted honestly. He shook his head in heartfelt regret. “God knows I don’t want to have to feel guilty about ruining your life, too.”
Maggie blinked. “What do you mean, ruining?” she demanded, untwining her fingers from his, and jerking away from him. She regarded him with exasperation. “Who else’s life did you ruin?” she demanded, not bothering to hide her annoyance with hi
s relentlessly pragmatic view. “Louellen’s?”
Jake braced his hands on his waist. Why deny what he knew in his heart to be true? “If I hadn’t pushed her to get pregnant—” he began raggedly.
Maggie cut him off with a scoff of contempt; it was a short brittle sound. “Louellen wanted to have a family,” she reminded him. “You told me yourself—you both did.”
“I’m not denying that.” Jake shook his head, railing at the familiar helplessness that welled up inside him whenever this subject came up. More uncomfortable than ever, he looked away from Maggie. Deliberately, he hardened his stance and his voice. “But I also can’t deny the fact that if Louellen hadn’t been pregnant at the time her cancer was discovered that she would have been able to take chemotherapy and radiation without worrying about the baby. Damn it, Maggie, don’t you undrstand? If Louellen hadn’t been pregnant—at my insistence, mind you—she might have lived.”
“Listen to me, Jake.” Maggie grasped his biceps tightly and forced him to face her. In a low voice, quavering with emotion, she said, “You have to stop punishing yourself for the death of your wife and daughter. I know you like to think otherwise—most of the men I know do—but you’re not all-knowing and all-powerful. No one is. There was nothing you could have done that would’ve made the outcome any different, nothing you could have done to change things.”
Jake was silent, knowing on one level that was true, and knowing on another, more deeply emotional plane, that the role fate might have played in this didn’t mitigate the deep, relentless guilt and sorrow he felt, and would always feel.
Maggie brought her hands to his face. “Let me ask you something, Jake.” Her touch grew gentle, compelling. “Would Louellen have wanted you to be miserable and alone the rest of your life?”
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