“Where are you going?”
She laughed softly, sexily, and held out her hand to him. “You mean you don’t know?”
Thirteen
Rich woke in the middle of the night. It took him only seconds to realize he was in bed with Jamie. For the next few minutes he did nothing more than watch his wife as she slept. He drank in every delicate nuance of her beauty. He stared at her as if they’d been separated for months, years, when she’d actually spent the night in his arms.
Gradually his gaze lowered to her lips, parted slightly, her breathing slow and even. She had the most delectable mouth….
Desire came at him unexpectedly. Memories of the gentle way Jamie had led him to her bed suffused him like a mist. She’d held her arms out to him, until the ache of wanting her, needing her, dissolved any will he had to refuse her.
She’d freely opened her heart and her body to him. When she’d cried out in pleasure at her completion, the sound of her joy had echoed in his very soul. The sheer, utter beauty of their lovemaking had marked him in ways he was only beginning to understand.
Jamie stirred and rolled her head to one side. Her hair spilled across her face, and after a moment, Rich risked waking her by gently brushing it aside. His breathing was fast, much too fast considering the simplicity of the gesture.
He leaned forward, intending to kiss her. The way he was feeling, with need clawing at his insides, he knew if he followed through with his intention, the kiss would be too intense, too powerful. By an act of will, he stopped himself just in time.
He’d made love to her only hours before and already he was wondering how long it would be before he could do so again.
He had to think. Pull himself together. Make some sense of this nagging physical ache, this overwhelming need, before he woke Jamie and frightened her. Folding back the covers, he sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his face.
“Rich.”
The panic he heard in Jamie’s voice made him turn around.
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “Not again.”
“I wasn’t going to.” He slipped back into the bed and gathered her in his arms. She felt so soft against him. Holding her, he wished he could stay like this forever.
“Don’t go,” she repeated, almost deliriously, clinging to him.
“I can’t.” Even if he’d wanted to, Rich could never have walked away from her. He was so much in love with her, so driven by need…and desire.
He kissed her, hoping to reassure her, but the kiss was everything he’d feared. And wanted. His mouth was hard and demanding, as his hands investigated her warm, perfect skin.
“Jamie…” He slid his mouth down the perfume-scented curve of her neck, down her shoulder to the peaked softness of her breast.
Jamie moaned softly and arched her back, encouraging him, plowing her fingers through his hair, thrashing beneath him.
He lifted his head and kissed her mouth. “I need you…again,” he whispered.
Their need for each other was as urgent as their kisses. A strangled cry slipped from her throat as she clutched at his back.
Rich jerked his mouth from hers. “I’m scaring you?” He was afraid he had, or worse, that he was hurting her.
“No…no, love me, just love me.”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
Rich intended to do a lot more than simply fulfill their bodies’ hunger. But for now, his need was too great to take it slow. Or easy. Ruthless desire dictated his actions.
She lay there, eager and trusting, vulnerable to him. Her dark hair fanned about her shoulders. Her sweet face was flushed with excitement, her eyes wide and misty with an emotion too strong to voice. Her lips were parted and moist from his kisses, and her breath came in tiny gasps of encouragement.
“Jamie…love. My love.”
Rich couldn’t resist her a second longer. Not another second.
The alarm sounded while it was still dark. Jamie rolled onto her side and reached blindly for the clock radio, shutting off the irritating noise.
Rich moved toward her, cradling her, placing his arm around her middle. “Good morning,” he whispered. With familiarity, his hand cupped her breast. Although they’d spent much of the night making love, Jamie was astonished by her body’s ready response to his touch.
“Morning.” Jamie couldn’t help feeling a little shy after the tempestuous night they’d spent. Memories of their lovemaking filled her mind—the brazen way she’d led him into her bedroom, stripped for him, stripped him, sent a surge of color into her cheeks.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Rich asked, his mouth close to her ear. He caught her lobe between his teeth and sucked gently, shooting warm shivers down Jamie’s spine.
“I’m…fine.”
“Do you want me to bring you some crackers?”
Jamie hadn’t immediately realized he was asking about the baby, the pregnancy. “Not…yet.” She eased back the covers and cautiously righted herself. When she did suffer bouts of nausea, it was generally when she first sat up. With her legs dangling over the bed, she inhaled a deep breath and was relieved to discover she didn’t feel queasy at all.
“Do you want to shower first?” Rich asked from behind her, his hands at her waist.
“Please.” She had trouble looking at him. It was silly to be so nervous, she told herself. They were married, for heaven’s sake. Married. There was no reason to feel uncomfortable or ill at ease. Rich was her husband, and he had a perfect right to spend the night with her.
Jamie moved into her bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting its temperature. It wasn’t until she was under the pulsing spray that she remembered.
The scene replayed itself, its effect as brutal as a slap across the face.
Rich had been about to leave her again, sneaking out in the middle of the night. If she hadn’t half wakened when she did, he would’ve walked out on her a second time. Once again he’d planned to leave her, to let her face the empty morning alone. Except that this time she’d pleaded with him to stay.
Jamie didn’t know how long she stood under the spray. Long enough to regulate her breathing and wait for the pain that rippled through her to subside.
When she finished, she forced a smile and walked nonchalantly back into the bedroom, a white towel around her. “Your turn,” she told him, not meeting his eyes.
Rich had made coffee and brought her a mug, as well as a small plate with four soda crackers. “Breakfast is served,” he said, bowing before her.
Jamie drank some of her coffee, careful to keep the towel securely in place with one hand. It was ludicrous to act modest after what they’d shared. The things they’d said. The things they’d done. Beautiful things…
Nevertheless she was.
Rich frowned, then left her. Although the bathroom door was shut, Jamie heard him singing at the top of his lungs over the sound of the shower. She took advantage of the brief privacy to get dressed, haphazardly choosing her outfit for the day.
She made the bed, folded Rich’s scattered clothes and laid them on top, then hurriedly moved into the kitchen. Generally she didn’t pack a lunch for work, but she did this morning, just to pass the time. If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Rich hadn’t called her darling. He’d only done that in the presence of others, for the sake of the pretense they had to maintain in front of their parents.
She was putting together a sandwich when Rich joined her. He poured himself a second cup of coffee. Jamie concentrated on making her turkey sandwich and managed to avoid eye contact.
She turned around to get an apple from the refrigerator and stopped short of colliding with Rich. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled under her breath, flattening herself against the counter so he could step past her.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked matter-of-factly, as though she often made the same inquiry of men who spent the night with her.
“Just coffee, thanks.”
Jamie sighed with relief. The int
imacy of cooking a meal for him would’ve been a strain. She made a point of glancing at her watch. “I guess I’d better head out to the salt mines,” she said, striving to sound carefree and happy when all the while there was a lump in her throat that made it hard to speak.
“Me, too.” Rich’s voice was low and hesitant, as if he wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
Jamie didn’t, either, but she didn’t know what to do about it.
She was halfway out of the kitchen when Rich stopped her.
“I’ll have to leave with you.”
“Why?” She was eager to escape, to be by herself, examine her thoughts and reactions, analyze their relationship.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t have a key to lock up with.”
“Oh, right.” She opened the closet and pulled out her coat.
“If I’m going to move in with you, we should have an extra one made.”
“Move in with me…” She’d suggested it when they’d met with Rich’s family. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and she’d been so eager to find a way to make her marriage work.
“I take it you’ve changed your mind?”
“No,” she said hastily. “I…just think we should reevaluate the situation before we do something we might regret later.”
“‘Regret later,’” Rich repeated slowly. “In other words, you regret having made the offer.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He moved past her and out the front door, slamming it behind him. The sound reverberated like thunder, leaving Jamie alone to withstand the storm.
Rich had never met a more contrary woman in his life. It seemed that one minute she was leading him into her bedroom, and in the next she was behaving as though she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
Rich wasn’t the one who’d announced to his family that they were moving in together. Nor had he invited himself into her home for dinner and then seduced her. It was the other way around. All right, she hadn’t exactly seduced him, but the lovemaking had been Jamie’s idea.
Then, in the light of day, she’d acted as if she’d never seen him before. As if she would’ve preferred that he disappear in the middle of the night.
Leaving before she woke was what had gotten him into trouble the first time they’d made love.
Rich was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
He didn’t understand it. He’d never been this confused by a woman.
Although Rich tried to work, by midafternoon he felt like calling it quits. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his tired eyes. Generally, when he had a problem he wanted to talk over with someone, he called Jason. The two of them had been each other’s support system for years.
This time, however, Rich decided to phone Paul instead. Paul had been married nearly five years; surely in all that time he’d gleaned some wisdom about women and marriage.
Rich stood and closed his office door before sitting back down and reaching for his phone. Paul worked for the largest of the two Seattle papers and was often out chasing down a story. But his brother answered the phone.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure,” Paul teased. “The only pressing thing I have is a three o’clock deadline.”
Since it was quarter to three, Rich figured he’d better talk fast. “Did Jason tell you about Jamie and me?”
“Not exactly,” Paul said, his amusement evident in his voice, “but I put two and two together. Jason confirmed my suspicions, although I have to admit I would never have guessed you’d agree to artificial insemination.”
“It didn’t work out that way.”
“That’s what Jason said.”
Rich could picture his brother in the middle of the newsroom, leaning back in his chair wearing that cocky know-it-all grin.
“What can I do for you?”
“Explain something to me.”
“If I can.”
“Women. And how they think.”
Paul responded with a low laugh. “You want me to explain a woman’s mind. I hope you’re kidding. No one, at least no man, will ever be able to understand the way a woman thinks. Trust me, I’ve got five years’ experience in this marriage business. If you don’t believe me, ask Dad. He’ll tell you the same thing. Take Diane. She wants another baby. Apparently she isn’t busy enough with Ryan and Ronnie. For weeks on end she’s talked about nothing else. She wants a little girl, she says. The twins run her ragged as it is. Besides, there’s no guarantee we’d have a girl. We actually had a big fight about it last week.”
“And?” Rich didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious to know how Paul and his wife settled their disagreements.
“Well, I stood my ground, if that’s what you mean. Not that it did much good,” he admitted reluctantly. “I absolutely refused to discuss having another child. I tried to appease her though, I don’t want to be dictatorial or unreasonable. I said we’d talk about it this time next year. That way the twins will be in kindergarten when the new baby’s born. Planning our family makes sense to me.”
“What did Diane say?”
“Nothing.” This was followed by a significant pause. “But I should mention that she threw out her birth-control pills.”
“Is she always this stubborn?”
“It’s not just Diane. All women are stubborn. To make matters worse, she wore this sexy little piece of black lace to bed. I tried to ignore her, pretend I didn’t see…you don’t need me to tell you what I could see.”
“No, I don’t.” Rich would rather not hear. He still didn’t know what to make of Jamie’s actions that morning. Had he frightened her, wanting her the way he did? Hell, it hadn’t seemed like it the night before, but what did he know?
Apparently very little.
“The thing is, Diane will probably get her way simply because I don’t have the strength to fight her. I could stop making love to her, but then I’d be the one losing out.”
Rich rubbed the back of his neck. “Does Diane ever say one thing when she means another?”
Paul’s laugh was abrupt. “Oh, yeah. In my experience, women are often indirect. They figure they’re being subtle or giving us hints or something like that. But they won’t come right out and say what they want. Oh, no, a man’s supposed to guess, and heaven forbid if we guess wrong.”
Rich exhaled a long, slow sigh. Paul was confirming what he already knew. “Remember, when we met with Mom and Dad, how Jamie casually said I was moving in with her?”
“Yeah.”
“It sure surprised me when she brought it up. We’d never said a word about it.”
“You mean you don’t want to move in with her?”
“Of course I do! For weeks I’ve been trying to figure out how to suggest it. Then, out of nowhere, she invites me to live with her, in front of my family. I was so excited it was all I could do not to jump up and somersault across the living room floor.”
“So what’s the problem?”
It was a logical question and one Rich couldn’t answer. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be calling you.”
“All right,” Paul said. “Start at the beginning.”
“I drove home with Jamie last night.”
“And?” Paul prompted when Rich didn’t immediately continue.
“And I ended up staying the night.”
“Everything sounds fine to me.”
“It was—until this morning.”
“What happened then?”
Rich shrugged, although Paul couldn’t see him. “I can’t say. The alarm went off and we were cuddling like old married folks. Ten minutes later, Jamie’s out of the shower, with this towel wrapped around her middle. She wouldn’t so much as look at me. I played it cool, gave her some space. Some women are modest—I understand that—so I left her alone.
“Before I know it, she’s in the kitchen making herself lunch like it’s the most important thing she
’s ever done. By accident I happened to step too close to her and she practically threw herself against the counter so we wouldn’t touch.” Rich paused to take a deep breath. “On top that, when I said I should get a key to her place, she tells me we should reevaluate my moving in with her.”
“I see,” Paul muttered.
“What’d I do wrong?”
“Something, that’s for damn sure. Think,” Paul advised. “You must’ve made some remark that set her off.”
“Like what?” They’d done more kissing than talking.
“How should I know? I wasn’t there. Just think…review everything you said.”
“I’ve tried that, but I can’t come up with a single thing I could have done to warrant this reaction.”
“Then ask her.”
“I can do that?”
“Yeah,” Paul said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “It’s not the best procedure because…well, you’ll learn that soon enough. But if you’re honestly in the dark about what went wrong, then you might as well ask. But if you do, be prepared.”
“For what?”
“To have your ego shredded. When Diane acts like that, I know I’m in trouble. Often, and this is what’s so confusing, Diane can’t even tell me what I did. All she knows is that she’s furious with me.”
“She can’t explain why she’s mad?” Rich could hardly believe it.
“It’s true. She glares at me like I should be arrested. Then, when I can’t stand it anymore, I finally ask her what I did that was so terrible.”
“And?”
“And,” Paul added with a sigh, “she says she’s still getting in touch with her feelings. According to her, it has to do with her upbringing.”
“How?”
“Well, the way she was brought up, according to her, was all about being taught never to make a fuss or create waves. To be a ‘good girl,’ which means not to make any demands.”
“I see.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Rich hesitated. “What you suggest. Ask her.”
“You’re a good man, Rich Manning,” Paul said, as if Rich should be awarded a medal for bravery. “Let me know how it goes.”
The Manning Brides Page 17
