by Heidi Betts
Grasping her chin, he held her in place while he nibbled her lips, tracing patterns over her waist and back with his fingertips. Her skin was like the smooth perfection of an alabaster statue, all elegant dips and curves. Only where statues were cold and lifeless, Vanessa was anything but. She was passionate and beautiful, and the only woman he’d ever made love to here, in this bed.
Before their marriage, he hadn’t bothered to bring women home with him, at least not in order to sleep with them. It had been easier and less complicated to limit any intimacies to their apartments or the occasional hotel room. Even with those he’d dated seriously.
After the divorce…well, the truth was that he hadn’t been with another woman since Vanessa left. He’d thrown himself into his work and the company. Frankly, no one else had even remotely caught his interest in the past year. He wondered now if anyone else ever would.
Crossing his arms behind her back, he grasped her to him, flattening her full, round breasts to his chest. She ran her hands through his hair, raking her nails over his scalp and the nape of his neck, something he’d always loved. It sent shivers of arousal down his spine and blood pulsing even more heavily between his legs.
Feeling the twitch of his erection, Vanessa shifted on his lap, arranging herself at a better angle to hover just above him. She wrapped her slim fingers around his hard length and stroked him lightly for a moment before guiding him ever so slowly into her damp, welcoming warmth.
Marc hissed a breath through clenched teeth, reciting stock values in his head to keep the evening from being over much too soon. The feel of her surrounding him, of being buried inside her, was one of the most astonishing sensations he’d ever experienced. No matter how many times it happened, each was nearly a religious experience. Amazing and life-altering. Impossibly better than the time before, and certain never to be as mind-blowing again.
She fit him like a glove, snug and hot, clutching at him in a way that nearly sent the top of his head spinning off. Hands on her bare buttocks, he tugged her closer—not that there was more than the thinnest sliver of space between them to begin with. But if he could have absorbed her into him, he would have.
Her breath whooshed out as she hit his chest with a thump, but he didn’t give her a chance to refill her lungs with fresh air. Instead, he took her mouth while he lifted her up…and down. Up…and down. Short, jerky movements at first that grew faster and more frantic as their passions built and their mingled breathing became ragged.
Marc’s heart pounded beneath his rib cage, every cell in his body tightening, straining, striving for release. He fought it, wanting the feelings to last. Wanting this time with Vanessa to last.
But holding back his orgasm was like trying to hold back a monsoon. His only hope was to hang on long enough and make sure she was with him when it happened.
Reaching between them, he trailed the flat of his hand over her abdomen and slipped two fingers into her folds in search of the secret bundle of nerves that would send her over the edge. She gasped as soon as he touched her there and he felt her inner muscles clench around him.
He cursed under his breath, working to school his breathing and praying for just a little more staying power. Just a little more.
Using the pads of those two fingers, he circled the swollen bud first one direction and then the other. Vanessa gave a long, plaintive moan, her spine bowing as she arched above him.
“That’s it, baby,” he panted, cocking his hips to meet her every downward thrust. “Let yourself go. Come with me.”
Her body was growing taut, her movements and breathing becoming more and more frenetic as her climax approached. Marc continued to tease, continued to drive her higher and higher. Pinching, flicking, letting his nails rake across her most sensitive spot while he rocked her from below.
And then she was over, crying out as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her, causing her to shudder from head to toe.
Marc wasn’t far behind. As soon as he felt the start of her climax, he released the stranglehold on his own self-control, and followed her into bliss.
Fourteen
Vanessa awoke to early morning sunlight streaming through the half-drawn draperies and across the bed. A wide smile split her face as she stretched like a cat, feeling better than she had in a very long time.
Tilting her head, she checked the clock, then sat up quickly. Ten o’clock! How could she possibly have slept so long?
Granted, she’d had a rather rigorous evening. She and Marc had made love three times during the long night, and Danny had had them both out of bed a couple of times in between. But she still should have been up long before now, especially since Danny had to be awake and fussing.
Rolling to the edge of the mattress, she started to sit up only to have her hand bump something near the head of the bed. It crinkled slightly, and when she looked, she found a slip of paper lying half under Marc’s pillow.
Had to go to the office, it said in her ex-husband’s tall, distinctive scrawl. Danny is with Marguerite. Home for dinner. And it was signed, Love, M.
Short and to the point, which was typical of Marc. But using the L-word in a frivolous manner was not. Did he mean it? Or had it simply slipped out by habit, given their return to familiar marital intimacies?
Vanessa’s heart pinched inside her chest. She wasn’t sure how to feel about either possibility, so she decided not to think about it too much. At least not at the moment.
Slipping out of bed, she quickly dressed in a pair of linen slacks and a light pumpkin orange top, then made her way out of the suite and downstairs, peeking her head in several doorways as she went in hopes of finding Danny.
She found them in the library. A large blanket was spread out on the floor with Danny in the center. Toys were spread all around, and the same young maid from last evening sat at one corner, making faces and playing with the laughing child. She was definitely working overtime, Vanessa thought, making a mental note to ask Marc if she was being properly compensated.
“Ms. Keller,” the woman murmured as soon as she spotted Vanessa. Pushing to her feet, she clasped her hands nervously behind her back.
“It’s Mason, actually,” Vanessa replied automatically. Moving toward the blanket, she knelt beside Danny and scooped him up, cradling him against her chest.
He giggled, kicked his little legs and grabbed for her hair. She chuckled in return, kissing one of his warm, chubby cheeks.
“Thank you for watching him again,” she said, climbing back to her feet and taking a seat on one of the nearby sofas.
“My pleasure, ma’am. Mr. Keller said it was all right to give him a bottle and some baby cereal, so he’s been fed and burped. Changed, too.”
Vanessa nodded, sending the young woman a gentle smile. Her first inclination was to dismiss the maid and take over Danny’s care herself. She wasn’t used to having staff on hand and underfoot anymore to see to her every need or whim. And she was used to taking care of things—especially her son—almost single-handedly.
But the maid looked so eager to please and Vanessa knew from personal experience how demanding Eleanor could be. She was hard enough on her children and their spouses, but with her employees, she was downright tyrannical.
Standing, she gave Danny another kiss, this one in the center of his forehead, then returned him to the blanket.
“Would you mind watching him for a while longer?” she asked as she straightened. “I’d like to get some breakfast.”
The young maid looked both pleased and unaccountably relieved. She quickly moved back to the blanket and took up her post at Danny’s side.
“Of course, ma’am. Take your time.”
“Thank you.”
As familiar as Vanessa was with Keller Manor, she was anything but comfortable inside its gates and walls. It was too big and lifeless for her tastes, reminding her of some cold, cavernous mausoleum. At times, she could swear her footsteps and voice actually echoed as if she was inside a giant cat
acomb.
Although she knew she could go straight to the dining room, and a servant would be there to take her order in under a minute, she instead made her way to the kitchen at the rear of the house. The kitchen staff was busy bustling around, cleaning up from the rest of the family’s morning meal and preparing for the afternoon one.
“Ms. Keller,” one of them chirped when she saw her.
Vanessa smiled, not bothering to correct the use of her married name. If she did that every time one of the staff reverted to the family surname, she would get nothing else done.
“Hello, Glenna. It’s nice to see you again.”
The older woman’s smile was warm and genuine, not the usual lift of dutiful lips. “You, too, ma’am.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Vanessa?” she scolded with a friendly wink.
The woman nodded, but old habits died hard, and Vanessa knew every one of the Keller staff would rather be chastised by her for not calling her by her first name than to accidentally slip and call Eleanor by hers.
“I missed breakfast. Do you think I could get a slice of toast and some juice?” she asked. She knew better than to try to fix something on her own. She’d done that before, when she and Marc had first been married, and learned very quickly that the kitchen staff could be more than a little territorial.
“Of course, ma’am.”
Glenna bustled off to fix a tray while Vanessa climbed onto a stool right there at the center island. She could have gone off to the dining room to wait, but the room was so large and empty, whereas the kitchen felt homier and buzzed with energy. She could also do without bumping into Eleanor, which was more likely elsewhere in the house.
After taking her time with two slices of toast and a scrambled egg because Glenna insisted she could use the protein, Vanessa strolled back to the library. Marguerite was still there, and Danny was still playing and cooing, enjoying himself just as much as when she’d left.
She laughed herself, just looking at him. There were few things in the world as delightful as a baby’s heartfelt giggle, and she never grew tired of hearing her own child expressing his happiness over some silly thing like a shaken rattle or a game of peekaboo.
Joining them on the blanket, she spent the next twenty or thirty minutes entertaining Danny and chatting with Marguerite, who turned out to be a college student trying to earn extra money for tuition over her summer break. Vanessa could certainly relate, since that’s exactly what she’d been doing when she’d met Marc for the first time.
“Well, isn’t this a sweet little tableau.”
Eleanor’s crisp tone and deceptively reproving words cut Marguerite off midsentence and sent a flush of guilt toward the young maid’s hairline. She immediately jumped up, fidgeting nervously.
“You may go,” Eleanor told her without preamble.
Marguerite gave a quick nod, mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” and hurried out of the room.
Vanessa was just as uncomfortable with her ex-mother-in-law’s sudden appearance, but refused to let it show. She certainly wasn’t going to rush to her feet like some loyal subject in front of her reigning queen.
Remaining where she was, she continued playing with Danny, fighting the morbid impulse to glance in the older woman’s direction.
“You didn’t have to scare her off, Eleanor,” she said flatly, finally looking up at her. “She’s a nice girl. We were having an interesting conversation.”
If possible, Eleanor’s features turned even more pinched and disapproving. “I’ve told you before that it’s unseemly to make friends with the help.”
Vanessa chuckled at that, a short burst of unexpected sound that caused the older woman’s brows to pucker. “I’m afraid I don’t adhere to your antiquated rules, especially since I used to be the help, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” Eleanor replied coolly.
Of course, she did. Wasn’t that her number one complaint about Vanessa ending up married to her son? That a high and mighty Keller heir might stoop so low as to tie himself to a common, no-name waitress?
“Do you really think this is going to work out?” Eleanor continued snidely. “That you can hide my son’s child from him for nearly a year, then simply bat your eyes and waltz back into the lap of luxury, trapping Marcus all over again?”
Keeping one hand on Danny’s belly and rubbing him gently through the soft cotton of his teddy bear onesie tucked into a tiny pair of denim shorts, Vanessa finally turned her head to meet her ex-mother-in-law’s stern, steel-gray gaze. “Contrary to your single-minded beliefs, I don’t particularly consider Keller Manor the lap of luxury. You may have everything money can buy, but this house definitely isn’t a home. There’s no warmth here and very little love.”
She paused for a moment to lift Danny against her chest before climbing to her feet. Turning, she faced Eleanor head-on. “And I’m not trying to trap Marc. I never was. I just wanted to love him and be happy. But you couldn’t let that happen, could you?”
Shifting Danny higher on her hip, she hugged him close and continued with so much of what she’d been wanting to say for years. “God forbid Marc falls in love with a woman from the wrong side of the tracks, with red blood instead of blue running through her veins. God forbid he be happy and make his own decisions and get out from under your oppressive, all-powerful thumb.”
The words poured out of her like a rainstorm, but even though a sliver of fear remained at the very pit of her belly, she also felt relieved…and stronger than she would have expected.
Why hadn’t she found the courage to tell Eleanor off long before now? She might have saved her marriage. Saved herself countless tears. Saved them all months and months of misery.
Eleanor, of course, didn’t take Vanessa’s first act of independence at all well. Her cheeks turned an unseemly shade of pink while her eyes narrowed and her jaw locked like a piranha’s.
“How dare you?” she seethed, her face turning even more mottled.
But her anger didn’t faze Vanessa. Not anymore.
“I should have dared a long time ago. I should have stood up to you and refused to let you intimidate me just because you come from old money and are used to looking down your nose at people. And I should have told Marc how you were treating me from the very beginning instead of trying to keep the peace and avoid tarnishing his opinion of you.”
She shook her head, sad but determined. “I was young and stupid then, but I’ve grown up a lot in the past year. And I have a child of my own now…one I don’t intend to let you push around, or let witness you pushing me around. I’m sorry, Eleanor, but if you want to be in your grandson’s life, you’re going to have to start treating me with a little respect.”
Vanessa could tell from the pinch of her ex-mother-in-law’s lips that she was about as far from that happening as from flapping her arms and flying to the moon. “Get. Out.”
Eleanor spat the words like a fire-breathing dragon, as though they were two completely different sentences. Fury shook her from head to toe, and if she’d had any medical issues, Vanessa would have worried she was on the verge of suffering a heart attack or stroke.
“Get out of my house,” she repeated, turning to point one long, diamond-adorned finger toward the door.
Not that Vanessa had to be told twice.
“Gladly,” she said, bending at the waist to gather Danny’s blanket and toys one-handedly.
With her shoulders back and her head held high, she strode past Eleanor and up the long stairwell to Marc’s suite to pack her things.
Marc pulled his Mercedes in front of the house and cut the engine. Normally he would drive around to the garage, but he was only going to be a few minutes. He’d forgotten some files on the desk in his suite, and was hoping he had time to grab them, get back to the office, deal with the rest of the issues filling his long to-do list and get home again in time for dinner.
Normally, he would simply skip dinner with the family and remain at the office as long
as it took to get the job done. But for some reason, his workaholic temperament seemed to have abandoned him. He barely wanted to spend the rest of the day at the office, let alone his evening, as well. Instead, he wanted to be here, at home, with Vanessa and Danny.
His mouth curved in a smile just thinking about them, and he glanced at his watch, debating how much time he could afford to spend with them before turning around and heading back into the city.
There was a taxi parked ahead of him in the driveway and he lifted a hand to the cabbie as he rounded his Mercedes, wondering what it was doing there. Perhaps his mother had visitors, though it was odd for any of her acquaintances not to have their own very expensive, chauffeured vehicles.
Bounding up the front steps, he pushed open the door and came to a screeching halt at the pile of luggage and baby items in the center of the foyer floor.
“What the hell is going on?” he muttered more to himself than anyone else.
Hearing a noise at the top of the stairs, he lifted his head to find Vanessa descending with Danny in her arms, two of his mother’s staff trailing behind, arms loaded with even more of his ex-wife’s and son’s belongings.
“Thank you so much for all your help,” Vanessa was saying. “I really appreciate it.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, more loudly this time.
Vanessa’s head jerked up at his sharp tone or his sudden, unexpected appearance, or both.
“Marc,” she breathed. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
“Obviously.”
His brows drew down in an angry, suspicious frown as she stopped at the bottom of the steps. The two maids dipped their heads and mumbled about taking her things out to the waiting cab, then disappeared as quickly as they could.
“Sneaking off again?” he accused, not caring that his voice was cold with disappointment and betrayal.
She was leaving him again, was all he could think. He’d asked her to spend just a few days with his family—a week at the most—and she hadn’t made it even two days.
