Who Loves Them? (Who--? Series)

by Storm, Taylor

  Gordon was surprised by that. “Only ugly women go to the university. The ones who cannot get husbands.”

  “Oh, you mean independent women who don’t need men?” Christina began brushing down the other side of the horse.

  “Is that what you think you are? An independent woman? Don’t you forget that without me you’d be nothing!”

  Christina put down the brush and walked to stand in front of Gordon, hands on her hips.

  “Now you listen here. I don’t want to marry you. I have never wanted to marry you. And even if someone held a gun to my head, I still wouldn’t want to marry you. I am going to find a way out of this, and get rid of you altogether. So you just shut your mouth and go along with things, just like the good little boy that you are.”

  Gordon was taken aback, but his face remained impassive. Finally, he smirked. “A woman’s rights activist as well, I see? How touching!”

  He flashed a toothy grin and walked out, leaving Christina staring at the chestnut horse in bewildered silence.

  ****

  Gordon got up early on Tuesday, the fourth day since they’d been at the cabin, but Chris was already out jogging. He went for his morning swim, and by the time he had come back, dried off and gotten dressed, Jacqueline and Chris had already left. Jacqueline had left a plate of pancakes on the counter with a cheery note: Sorry we missed you!

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and settled down at the table with a groan, trying to put Chris out of his mind. She was going to drive him mad. Apparently she was better at avoiding than he was at chasing. So far, his plan to seduce her was not working. He had to try harder.

  The day went smoothly until lunch. Chris had made a cashew salad to go along with Jacqueline’s pepper steak, but Gordon refused to eat any of it.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you, I despise pepper steak.”

  Jacqueline looked up from her meal. “Since when? Now you’re just being childish.”

  Christina smirked. “And you’re supposed to be older than me.”

  Gordon huffed in annoyance. “You just shut your mouth, Chris.”

  “Watch your language, young man,” Jacqueline reprimanded. “Seriously Gordon, you have never been so rude to a woman before.”

  “Chris is not a woman--she’s a child! Look at her. There’s nothing womanly about her. How do you expect me to be nice to my future bride if she’s not even a woman?”

  Christina’s cheeks flared in anger. “How dare you call me a child? You are acting like a baby. I have no idea how you seduced so many women in the first place. They must have all been stupid or unconscious!” She smiled at Jacqueline. “I, for one, love pepper steak.”

  Jacqueline smiled nervously. “Thank you, dear.”

  “Look, can’t you just be nice to someone?” Christina asked.

  Gordon sneered at her. “Is that how you get your way? You just flutter your eyelashes like the little girl that you are? What a clever tactic. I wish I had thought of it sooner.”

  Christina ignored the comment and finished off her steak. After she had cleaned her plate, she sat in the living room, reading a magazine. Gordon joined her on the couch, much to her dismay, and stared at the pages.

  “You know, you’ll never be like them,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re too boyish and ugly.”

  Christina looked at him from the corner of her eye and shrugged her shoulder, but Gordon refused to move. “At least I actually read the articles.”

  Gordon laughed. “It’s true, men don’t read the articles. But that’s because they’re too busy looking at women with bodies you’ll never have.”

  “I see.” Christina sighed. All of Gordon’s harsh words stung her, even if she pretended they didn’t. “Is that why you have the IQ of a five-year-old?’

  Gordon nodded. “Evidently.” He sat up and leaned back on the lounge. “You know, the reason you’re ugly is because you don’t know how to be beautiful.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You’re ugly because you’re repulsive.”

  “I see.”

  Christina knew he was just trying to stir her up, but it was not working. Gordon was all bite and no sting.

  “I bet that’s why you cry at night,” he added.

  Christina blushed. “I cry at night because I cannot think of a way to get out of spending eternity with you.”

  “Hmmm….” Gordon smiled and poked her in the cheek. “I think it’s because you’re a lost little girl who doesn’t want to get married to the big bad man who will help your family.”

  Christina stared at him and frowned. “Is that what you think?”

  “Yep.” Gordon seemed pleased with himself, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. However, Christina wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction.

  “You’re just upset because I’m not going to let you have dozens of mistresses.”

  Gordon seemed surprised. “Oh? And what will you do? Lock me up in your dungeon, witch?”

  Christina smiled. “No. As a matter of fact, I’ll tell everyone that you have some form of venereal disease.”

  Gordon paled. “You cannot say that. And in any case, no one will believe you! And what about the women I’ve slept with before? I’m sure they’d notice.”

  “All those women are socialite jezebels who wouldn’t notice who they’re sleeping with in the first place. They could have caught the disease from anyone.” Christina smirked. “I’m not as stupid as I look. I can ruin you if I want to.”

  Gordon laughed. “In your dreams. You couldn’t ruin me with a bulldozer.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m a good driver!”

  The evening went as usual, except tonight after dinner, Chris stayed in the living room with them, accepting the glass of sherry Jacqueline offered her, curling up on the couch, still studiously avoiding Gordon’s gaze.

  He tried to engage her in nicer conversation, so Jacqueline would think they were getting along. “So, is jogging what you usually do for exercise?”

  She glanced over at him. “That, and yoga. And of course horse riding. It takes a lot of energy out of you. I like being outside, though. I actually like the summer in New Orleans best because I can go out early, and it’s so quiet, like I’m the only person on earth.”

  He looked at her, startled a little by her frankness after so many days of ignoring him and being rude to him. “I would think you would hate solitude,” he observed. “Isn’t that how you girls are raised, to be social butterflies?” He was truly a little confused.

  “Just because I was raised that way doesn’t mean it’s what I like,” she replied coolly, taking a sip of her sherry. “I prefer to be left alone, really, except for the few people I choose to be friends with. I don’t like vapid people, and I don’t like people who pretend to understand me even though they’ve only known me for a short time. I think that is why I prefer horses. They don’t ask too many questions.”

  He was quiet for a moment, surprised by her cool response. She finished the last of her sherry and set the glass down on the table. “I think I’m going to go to the library for a while. Good night Jacqueline. Gordon.”

  Jacqueline smiled. “Good night, Chris.” Gordon watched her carry her glass into the kitchen and walk into the library, shutting the door behind her.

  “Well, then,” Gordon said grimly. “I think it’s easy to ascertain what her opinion of me is.” He was really surprised by how much it bothered him. Of course, they had bickered on and off, but he always thought she secretly liked him. Perhaps he was wrong.

  Jacqueline smirked, enjoying his discomfort. “You haven’t done much to sway it now, have you, Gordon?”

  He sighed. “What exactly am I supposed to do, woo her with flowers and poetry? I don’t want to be her knight in shining armour. What I want is a way out of this disaster. I just want her to be nice to me, to talk to me, to at least smile. That is not too hard, is it?”

  “There is no way out, Gordon. And you don’t hav
e to be a knight; I think our Chris is perfectly capable of saving herself. In fact, I think it’s the helplessness of the situation that is upsetting her as much as it is you. I think she just doesn’t want you to hate her for something that isn’t her fault. You don’t have to love her, Gordon, but you could be her friend. You two have been awfully rude to each other. Maybe you could try being a little more courteous.”

  Gordon looked toward the closed door of the library. “Maybe I’ll go talk to her.”

  Jacqueline smiled. “You do that. I’m going to bed.” She stood up, stretched, and padded down the hall, leaving Gordon to face Chris on his own.

  ****

  Gordon knocked on the library door, and was met with a terse, “Come in.” He hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside.

  Chris had started a fire, and it crackled merrily in the background. She was curled up on the leather armchair with the ottoman, a copy of Dante’s Inferno in her hands. He was momentarily taken aback by her choice of literature; he had expected Danielle Steele or some other nonsense. Maybe you’ve underestimated her, Gordon, he thought. She looked up from the book. “Is there something you needed, betrothed?”

  He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Look, Chris, I’m not very good at this. I just wanted to say…I’ve treated you badly. I’m angry at the situation that we’re in, and I don’t like being manipulated. I’ve taken that anger out on you, and I’m coming to see that you don’t deserve it. You’ve been forced into this just as I have. I know I’ve been an ass, but if you can forgive me, maybe we could at least be friends?”

  Christina frowned. “What is this? Some kind of trap? Do you think you can be horrid to me one day and be nice the next?”

  Gordon smiled. “I’m trying to be civil here, woman.”

  “Woman? Just who do you think you are?”

  “I’m trying to be polite!” Gordon ran a tired hand through his hair. How could I win her over? he thought. She’s just as stubborn as me!

  “Funny way to be polite,” Christina muttered. She knew she should be more cooperative, and that she was taking the whole situation out on Gordon, but he had been rude to her. Then again, she had been rude to him as well.

  “I don’t want you to think that I’m just some pushover you can get your way with,” she said. “Because I’m not.”

  Gordon nodded. “I’m well aware you can stick up for yourself.” He smiled. “I just want to be friends. Can we do that?”

  Christina smiled, just a little. “I think that might be possible.”

  He gestured at the book. “Have you read that before?”

  She nodded. “My father has a huge library. I always spend hours in there reading, whenever I can escape for a while.”

  He walked to the fireplace, his back to her for a moment, staring into the flames. She was not at all what he expected, he thought. He had expected to be saddled with another frivolous society girl, with an empty head and a limitless ability to spend his money. He was familiar with those types of girls. He was equally familiar with Mindy’s type—pretty girls who had climbed to the top by clawing their way up on the basis of their looks and a few family connections. He was not familiar with girls who were smart, well-read, or capable of holding an intelligent conversation past what they’d been briefed on before the dinner party. He had avoided those girls at the university because, well….not to be shallow, he thought ruefully, but they didn’t put out. Mindy’s type did.

  Chris, for all her lack of a formal education, seemed to be just the type he had always avoided. And maybe the perfect type for you. Just think, a woman you could actually talk to.

  Christina looked up from her book. Gordon was facing away from her, his hands folded behind his back, staring into the fire. She felt a little sorry for him. It must have been difficult, she thought, for a man of his pride to come and apologize to her. He had deserved it, to have to eat humble pie in front of her, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

  He was so handsome. His thick black hair was flopping to the side a little, the front brushing over his face, and she ached to walk up next to him and push it back for him, maybe letting her fingers trail over his cheek a little as she did so. His jaw muscles were tight, he was obviously thinking about something. She wondered what his face would feel like under her hand.

  This man was going to be her husband in just a few months. She would have to sleep next to him at night, wake up next to him in the morning. She would have to share a life with him, have children with him. She would have to do the things that led to children. Christina was surprised at the sudden shiver of delight that ran down her spine at that thought. She had never been bothered much by her mother’s insistence that she not spend time with boys, for the very obvious reason of preserving her virginity. Sex had seemed a somewhat boring prospect. None of the boys she had kissed had ever made her knees go weak and her skin go hot.

  This was not a boy, though, she mused, looking at Gordon. This was a man. A man who frightened and excited her all at once. A man who she had to marry.

  Without thinking about it, she set her book aside and stood up, slowly walking up to him. She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the corded muscle underneath her fingers and trying to ignore her body’s response to him. “Thank you, Gordon,” she whispered. She tried to think about what Lilly had told her. Just go along with it, she thought to herself. It cannot be all that bad,

  Gordon felt her hand on his arm and tensed. She had no idea how she made him feel when she came near him. He didn’t understand it, and it frustrated and annoyed him more than a little. He shouldn’t be reduced to a quivering mass of desire by this little slip of a girl. He had always been in control. He always called the shots. But just her hand on his arm made him feel a little breathless.

  Chris felt as though she were dreaming, moving in slow motion. She laid her other hand on his other arm, and moved them up to his shoulders, then to the back of his neck. She threaded her fingers through the thick black hair she’d been longing to touch, unknowingly scratching her nails over the back of his neck. She was not sure what gave her the courage to do it, but she didn’t stop.

  Gordon shuddered, breathing in a shaky breath, and he felt himself growing hard as her hands moved slowly over his arms, then his shoulders. She was obviously inexperienced, hesitant, and he held himself on his leash, not wanting to frighten her, not wanting to take advantage. Then her fingers tangled in his hair, and her nails scratched ever-so-lightly over the nape of his neck, and he lost control.

  He spun around and captured her waist between his hands, pulling her up against him. His mouth dropped to hers and he kissed her, hard, expertly separating her lips with his tongue and plunging into her mouth. He wanted to plunge into her body, wanted to remove every stitch of clothing and lay her down and possess her entirely.

  Chris felt her knees buckle as he spun around without warning and grabbed her, kissing her so thoroughly that she thought she was going to drown from the pleasure. He pressed her against his body and she felt him through the material of his jeans, hard and insistent against her thigh. The sensation made her shudder with pleasure and she unthinkingly ground her body against his, her hands going up to grip his shoulders.

  Gordon let go of her waist to wrap one hand in her hair, dragging her head backwards as he kissed her mouth, and then left it to trail his lips along her cheekbone, her jawline, the column of her neck. She tasted delicious, her skin sweet and soft, and he pressed her even more tightly against him. He couldn’t even think he was so overcome by the way she felt.

  Chris shuddered as his lips trailed over her skin. She had never felt sensations like this before, never ached like this before, never wanted anything as badly as she wanted Gordon in that moment. His lips trailed down her neck and her head dropped back, her mouth opening. “Gordon,” she moaned helplessly, eliciting a groan from him.

  He dragged his mouth away from her with effort and looked at her. “You’ve never done this befor
e, have you?”

  She wanted to lie, but she nodded mutely, wishing he would kiss her again. Her body was shaking with desire, and she thought she would die if he let go of her now. She pressed herself against him inexpertly, tangling one hand in his hair at the back of his neck and trying to pull his mouth down to hers. “Chris,” he whispered raggedly, “If we keep going, I will not be able to stop. Do you understand? I want you too badly.”

  Her body thrilled at his words, and she moaned. “Just kiss me, Gordon. Please kiss me.”

  He shuddered and pulled her mouth to his again. He picked her up then as though she weighed nothing at all, wrapping her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him as he carried her to the ottoman and laid her down. Her fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt as he worked at the buttons on her blouse, her hands sliding up underneath the cotton to run along the smooth skin of his abdomen. She ran her fingers under the edge of the waistband of his jeans and he groaned, tugging at the buttons on her shirt until they were free. She shrugged it off and he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

  She was wearing a lacy cornflower blue bra, and he ran his hands over her breasts, dipping his head to capture one nipple in his mouth through the lace. She arched her back, pressing herself into his mouth. He reached behind her to undo the clasp on her bra, running his hands down the smooth curve of her back and then reaching up to toss the bra aside. He ran his fingers up either side of the small mounds of her breasts, trailing his fingertips down her stomach and reaching for the button on her jeans.

  Christina fumbled with the buckle of his belt, cursing her inexperience as she finally got it loose. She was not sure exactly what happened then, it became a blur of hands and mouths and clothes being pushed hurriedly off as they divested themselves of the rest of their clothing, and finally they were naked, skin to skin on the ottoman, as she ran her hand down Gordon’s thigh to the part of him that was pushing against her, hard and throbbing. It was hot beneath her hand and she curled her fingers around him, moving her hand slowly.