Fortune's Valentine Bride

by Marie Ferrarella

  The sound filled her head even as demands and desires pounded all through her.

  And then he was over her, pressing her into the bed, his weight hovering over her like the promise of rainbows in the rain. Her breath caught in her throat as he entered her, the movement as gentle as his first kiss had begun. And then, as with the kiss, the intensity grew, taking on width and breadth as the rhythm between them increased, growing in scope until that was all there was.

  And then there was more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Her body still throbbing, Katie seriously began to doubt that she would ever be able to breathe normally again. But eventually, she finally managed to drag just enough air into her lungs to dispel the need to gasp and pant. Her chest ceased heaving.

  As did his.

  Her head was resting against his chest now and she felt the beat of Blake’s heart beneath her cheek. The steady rhythm was infinitely comforting and she felt that if she could remain like this forever, she’d never want for anything else.

  She had discovered bliss and this was it.

  But it was inevitable that this was finite. Blake shifted and she had to move, even if it was ever so slightly. The end of the interlude was drawing close. But just as a sadness began to unfurl within her, Katie felt his arm close around her and, just as when they’d first walked out of the restaurant an eternity ago, she curled into his arm, huddling into his warmth. Drawing her contentment from that.

  She felt Blake draw in a deep breath and then he said her name as if it was a precursor to something she wasn’t going to like.

  “Katie—”

  Warranted or not, survival instincts immediately kicked in. A very real fear took hold that he was going to say something that would negate what had just happened, or, at the very least, leech some of the starlight away from it. She didn’t want to risk losing that, not just yet.

  So when he said her name, Katie raised her head and placed her fingertips against his lips, momentarily silencing him.

  “Shh,” she begged. “Don’t say anything. Not a word,” she instructed softly just before she laid her head back down on his chest.

  Closing her eyes, Katie allowed her mind to peacefully drift off and soon, the rest of her did, too. Before she realized it, she was asleep.

  She slept, while Blake, enveloped in the darkness—they had never turned on light in the bedroom—dwelled on what had just transpired.

  Dwelled on what he had done.

  What had possessed him? he silently demanded. Where was his control? His common sense? Why hadn’t he just walked her to the door and left her there? Why had he felt so compelled to test the waters of this brand-new environment he’d suddenly found himself in?

  He looked down at the sleeping woman curled up against him and felt—heaven help him—fresh stirrings.

  For Katie.

  Suddenly, the simple had become so very complicated. And it was all his own fault.

  The darker it grew outside the bedroom window, the darker his thoughts became.

  Moving her shoulders, Katie stretched her body like a contented feline waking from a long, decadent nap. She realized that there was a smile on her face, a wide, guileless, happy smile even before she opened her eyes. Her smile had nothing to do with any dream and everything to do with what had happened before she had surrendered to sleep.

  She stretched again and this time realized that even though she was really extending her body to its limits, she wasn’t coming in contact with anything other than sheets and part of a comforter.

  She reached for Blake as she opened her eyes and discovered that she was reaching for someone who wasn’t there.

  “Blake?” she murmured.

  When there was no reply, she said his name louder and turned her head in the direction of the bathroom. But there was no sound of running water, no sound of movement of any kind. The door to the bathroom stood wide open and she could see from where she was that there was no one inside the small room.

  An uneasiness whispered along the perimeter of her throbbing head.

  The wine, she remembered. She’d had too much wine.

  Sitting up, Katie quickly scanned the bedroom. He wasn’t there. And neither, she realized when she glanced down at the floor right before the bed, were Blake’s clothes.

  Had he quietly slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake her, gotten dressed and gone down for breakfast?

  Katie realized that as she formed the question, it was accompanied by a prayer. Because if Blake hadn’t gone down for breakfast, and he wasn’t here, that meant that he’d left.

  Left.

  Left without even saying goodbye.

  She didn’t like the sound of that. A chill came over her heart as she suddenly remembered that he had a ticket for a flight out of San Antonio. A flight to Atlanta. She knew this because, as his assistant, she was the one who had made the reservation for him.

  Katie moved as quickly as a woman whose head bordered on exploding could and threw on the first clothes she got her hands on. For the moment forgetting about such niceties as brushing her teeth or combing her hair, and ignoring the fact that she was barefoot, she ran out into the hall and all but crashed into the housekeeper.

  Juanita Ruiz, a heavyset, motherly looking woman, was carrying a breakfast tray before her and stopped short just before Wendy’s door. Quick thinking had her moving the tray out of range and saving her employer’s breakfast.

  “Are you all right, Katie?” the woman asked, concerned.

  Katie didn’t bother answering the question. She needed one of her own answered.

  “Is Wendy’s brother in the kitchen?” she asked the woman, wishing with all her heart she didn’t sound so needy. But now wasn’t the time to worry about appearances, there was something far more important on her mind than the way she came across to Wendy’s housekeeper.

  Since Wendy had several brothers, the housekeeper needed to know which one she was referring to. Given that it was the youngest Mr. Fortune who came to pick up Katie every day, she honed in on him.

  “Are you asking about Blake?” Juanita asked. “No, he has not come yet this morning.” The housekeeper was accustomed to admitting Wendy’s brother around eight-thirty every morning, when he came to pick Katie up to take her to Scott’s house. “Perhaps he is running just a little late,” she suggested.

  “Or maybe he’s just running,” Katie said under her breath.

  “Katie? Is that you standing out there in the hall?” Wendy called out as the housekeeper came in with her tray. “Come talk to me,” she coaxed, beckoning for Katie to come into the room. She sounded even more restless than she had before she’d given birth. “The doctor said I needed to stay in bed for a few more days and if I go beyond the bathroom, Juanita tells on me,” she said, nodding at the housekeeper.

  Wendy was pretending to pout, but there was affection in her voice as she mentioned the older woman. About to say something else, Wendy’s smile faded a little as she looked at Katie. Her friend appeared a bit disheveled as well as perturbed. Not to mentioned rather annoyed.

  Wendy’s antennae immediately went up. Something was definitely going on.

  “My God, who died?” she asked, only half joking. When Katie didn’t immediately answer, Wendy’s eyes widened. “No one did, did they?” she asked nervously. She quickly reviewed a tally in her head. Her parents and family hadn’t flown back yet, but as far as she knew, they were leaving this morning. Her husband was driving them all to San Antonio. “I just saw Marcos this morning before he left, but—”

  “No one died,” Katie assured her, putting emphasis on the second word.

  “Okay,” she replied cautiously. “But what did die?” Wendy wanted to know.

  Katie stared off into space, wait
ing for the housekeeper to set down the tray and leave. When the woman finally did, closing the door behind her, Katie merely sighed. Silently, she called herself an idiot and seven kinds of a fool, but that didn’t help anything or change anything, she thought darkly.

  Blake was still racing into the arms of that woman. And she had helped to pave the way.

  Oh, well, she tried to console herself, at least she’d had one good night out of it.

  “Talk to me,” Wendy urged and, from the sound of the exasperation in her voice, it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. Katie hadn’t even heard her say anything. “Didn’t he take you out to dinner?” Wendy wanted to know.

  “Yes, we had dinner,” Katie replied. And I volunteered to be dessert.

  “And?” Wendy pressed impatiently.

  “He brought me home. Here,” she clarified. in case Wendy thought she was referring to Scott’s place, where Blake had been staying.

  Nodding, she said again, “And?”

  This time, the sigh was even deeper, coming from the very bottom of her soul. “And we made love.”

  Thrilled, Wendy clapped her hands together and all but cheered. “Wonderful!”

  “Not so wonderful,” Katie countered with a shake of her head.

  Wendy’s face fell as she obviously tried to fill in the blanks. “He’s a bad lover?” There was an ocean of sympathy in her voice.

  “Oh, no,” Katie was quick to correct Wendy’s wrong impression. “He’s an utterly magnificent lover with incredible stamina. We made love twice and each time, he exceeded anything I could have ever imagined.” And it’s going to be so wasted on Brittany, she thought with a huge pang of regret.

  Wendy didn’t understand. “If he was so great, then why do you look like a kid who just found out that not only is there no Santa Claus, but she’s going to be on the receiving end of coal for the rest of her life?”

  “Because Santa Claus is on his way to Atlanta this morning for his ‘big’ date with Brittany at the fundraiser tomorrow,” Katie bit off. And that, he’d said more than once these past few weeks, was going to be the beginning of his life from here on in.

  Wendy looked utterly horrified. “No, he’s not,” she cried.

  “Yes,” Katie answered wearily, “he is.” And then, as much as it pained her, she gave Wendy the information to back up what she was saying. “I do all of Blake’s bookings for his trips. I made this reservation for him and, since he’s not here this morning, having ducked out sometime in the middle of the night,” she couldn’t help adding bitterly, “it’s safe to assume that he is even now on his way to San Antonio so that he can catch his flight to Atlanta.” Katie could feel angry tears forming in the corners of her eyes and she blinked hard to scatter them. “He’s gone.”

  Wendy asked pointedly, “The real question here is, what are you going to do?”

  Katie raised her eyes to Wendy’s. “Do?” she echoed quizzically. Do about what?

  “Yes. Do,” she emphasized. “According to you, the two of you had a really great time last night. And then, apparently, my brother just took off early this morning without saying or writing a single word to you. That’s just not like him,” Wendy insisted, shaking her head. “God knows that man doesn’t always connect the dots, but I’ve never known him to act like a Neanderthal jerk, either.” Scooting to the edge of her bed, she gave Katie her theory. “My guess is that maybe being with you like that last night really shook him up. He saw you in a completely different light—”

  “Yeah, he saw me naked,” Katie said cynically.

  “So, again,” Wendy continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “my question to you is, what are you going to do about it?”

  Katie sank down on the bed, feeling frustrated, hurt and confused, not to mention angry. What made things particularly difficult was that she was feeling all these emotions at the same time.

  Her shoulders rose and fell in an impotent shrug. “What can I do?”

  “How about fighting for him?” Wendy challenged. The look in her eyes dared Katie to not just give up like this.

  Having to “fight” for Blake was just another way of saying she was lowering herself, Katie thought. Lines had to be drawn somewhere.

  “Look,” she began patiently, “if Blake doesn’t want me—”

  Wendy cut her off. “I really doubt if that’s the case.” She saw the disbelief in Katie’s eyes and she persisted. “More than likely, my brother’s really scared.”

  “Scared,” Katie repeated sarcastically. Her tone of voice told Wendy that she thought that was just a big crock.

  But Wendy wasn’t about to let Katie just cast that—and her chances of real happiness—aside. From where Wendy sat, it sounded like a very plausible explanation. Sometimes the thought of finding real love—committing to that love—was a scary proposition. Besides, she knew a thing or two about how the male mind worked. Katie had been the girl next door, but she hadn’t actually grown up with three brothers the way Wendy had. That kind of hands-on experience inevitably taught a person things.

  “Yes, scared,” Wendy insisted as she emphasized the word. “My brother’s been telling himself all this time that he’s in love with Brittany, and then the lid blew off his world when he saw you last night all decked out and sexy.” Wendy warmed up to her subject. “And, just like that, the two of you wind up making love. A guy who’s in love with one woman doesn’t make love to another woman with wild abandonment,” she concluded knowingly.

  Rather than challenge Wendy’s choice of words—the woman had seen too many romantic comedies, she merely stated, “It happens all the time.”

  Wendy remained firm. “Not to Blake. He’s the faithful type. Go after your man, Katie,” she urged her best friend. “Make him realize that he wants you, belongs with you. Face it, Katie, if you go after him, what have you got to lose?”

  “My dignity comes to mind,” Katie answered tersely.

  Wendy shook her head, dismissing the excuse. “Seems to me that dignity would provide you with cold comfort if you’re all by yourself, thinking about what might have been if you’d only had the courage to act....” She let her voice trail off, watching to see Katie’s reaction. She knew that Katie hated the thought of coming off like a coward.

  And she was right.

  “Okay,” Katie finally cried, exasperated. “I’ll go! But if this winds up blowing up in my face, I am going to come back and haunt you every day for the rest of my natural life—and then I’ll come back as a ghost and continue to haunt you for all eternity.”

  Wendy smiled at her serenely. “I’m not worried. Now, go, get a flight out,” she said, shooing her away with her hands as if Katie were a sparrow feeding on birdseed on the windowsill. “I’ll have Juanita drive you to the airport when you’re ready. Stop my brother from making a really stupid mistake.” She leaned forward and took hold of Katie’s hand. She squeezed it affectionately. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to him and it’s about time he admitted it and stopped running.”

  Katie really had her doubts about Wendy’s take on the situation. But she knew that she really wished that her friend was right.

  “Whatever you say,” Katie answered as she extricated herself and then walked out of the room.

  She was walking faster by the time she reached her own bedroom.

  As it turned out, because of a severe storm and the threat of a possible tornado in the Atlanta area, Katie couldn’t get a flight out until the middle of the next day. By then, after spending the night at the airport, she’d had enough time to work herself up to the point that she was very close to having steam coming out of her ears.

  The upshot of it was that she was no longer hurt, she was just plain angry. Angry at Blake for leaving her the way he had, without a word, as if she was some woman
he’d encountered at a party and gone on to have casual sex with. There was definitely nothing casual about the sex they’d had—because, from her perspective, it hadn’t been sex, it had been lovemaking.

  She wouldn’t have felt what she had, the earth wouldn’t have moved the way it had, if she hadn’t invested her emotions in it. And, she was certain, though he hadn’t said a word, that Blake had felt the same way. They had even made love one more time in the middle of the night. She woken up to his stroking her arm. When she’d turned her head and seen the look in his eyes—not a look a man had when he’d had just casual sex with a person he didn’t intend to see again—she’d been so moved that, well, one thing had led to another and then another and they’d made love again.

  If he loved Brittany the way he claimed, that wouldn’t have happened, she silently insisted as she sat rigidly in her seat, waiting for the Atlanta-bound plane to land so that she could get this speech off her chest and onto her lips.

  Then, after he heard her out, if he still wanted to remain with Brittany, well, there wasn’t anything she could do about that. If he was that mentally impaired, then he and Brittany deserved each other and she didn’t want him anyway.

  But even if that did come to pass, at least she would have gotten a chance to tell him what she thought of him for being so thoughtlessly self-centered—and for throwing away something precious and real that they could have had between them.

  Not that she would have allowed Blake to get away with that, Katie thought as she braced herself for a landing. She would have confronted him as he tried to make his exit. She would have put him on the spot, even though she really wouldn’t have known what to say.

  At least this way, she told herself, she’d had time to get her thoughts in order. She only hoped that once she saw him, she wouldn’t become so angry all over again that she just wound up sputtering at him like some old engine that had run out of gas.