by Teresa Hill
The plane made its final turn onto the long straightaway. The engines wound up for takeoff. It was fast and smooth. She was conscious of every inch of her husband’s body next to hers. Despite the extra space of first class, he simply seemed to take up all the room, sitting there so seemingly relaxed in these surroundings.
The plane leveled off. The flight attendant came by asking if there was anything she could get them. Matt had a Scotch and soda. Cathie asked for a pillow. She tucked it in between her head and the side of the plane, shifting this way and that trying to get comfortable without much success.
Matt downed the last of his Scotch, handed it to the flight attendant, and then pushed the armrest between them up and out of the way and said, “Come here.”
She sat up, hesitated. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, in your room. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” She let her head fall to his shoulder, but kept her hands tucked against her chest. She didn’t let herself snuggle or anything, despite how good he smelled and how comforting his hold was. Even if he really didn’t want her here. “You’re going to think I’m a lot more trouble than I’m worth.”
“You’ve always been all kinds of trouble,” he said dryly. “Go to sleep, Cathie. It’s been a long day, and we’ve got hours to go.”
She meant to just close her eyes and pretend to sleep, because there was no telling when she’d manage to get this close to him again, and it was so nice. But the stress of the day had worn her out, and before she knew it, she was asleep, waking only as the plane touched down, finding herself wrapped all over Matt.
Oh, my.
It was like she didn’t have a bone left in her body, and he was her bed. She was completely relaxed and enveloped in warmth, her nose buried in his suit, which smelled faintly of him.
She didn’t ever want to move.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” he said. “We’re here.”
She straightened slowly, feeling rumpled and relaxed as she hadn’t in the longest time. He shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulder to loosen it up.
“Sorry,” she said.
He gave her a look that seemed more than anything to say, What in the world are we going to do?
Good question.
She didn’t even try to answer it, just smoothed her hair back into place and checked to make sure her clothes weren’t too much of a mess.
From San Juan, they boarded a water taxi, which took them to a very private resort on its own island, a luxury Cathie had never even imagined.
“Just wait,” Matt said, looking happy for the first time since she’d jumped him in the bedroom at her parents’ home. “It’s well worth the trip.”
It was nearly one o’clock in the morning before the driver of what looked like a glorified golf cart dropped them off at the door of a tiny bungalow on the beach in the middle of nowhere. At least, it seemed that way at first, the foliage was so thick.
Cathie could hear the waves and the wind and wanted to see the ocean.
“It’s just behind the bungalow,” Matt said, his hand at the small of her back, steering her inside, once the driver had unlocked the door and handed Matt the keys. He gave the man a tip and said, “Just leave the suitcases inside the door. We’ll handle it from here.”
He steered Cathie through a small living room and out the sliding glass door, which opened onto a small patio. She saw a hot tub in the corner, a table and chairs, a pair of chaise lounge chairs, a hammock off in the trees to the right and through the darkness, she could make out the whitecaps of the waves.
It seemed like they had a beach all to themselves.
This had definite possibilities.
“Kick your shoes off,” Matt said. “You can dip your toes in the water.”
He held her hand to help her keep her balance while she slipped off her shoes, then took off his own and his socks, rolled up his pant legs. Then he took her hand and led her onto the beach.
It opened up before them, a long, smooth line going as far as the eye could see in either direction. The sand was like powder beneath her feet, and there were faint lights here and there along the shoreline, but that was it.
“The hotel’s just back there,” Matt said, pointing to the left. “It’s not very big. Most of the beach is lined with little bungalows like ours.”
Cathie felt the breeze on her face, heard the swish of the waves. It was almost as if they were the only ones here at all. “It’s beautiful, Matt.”
“Wait until you see it in daylight.”
They walked along the edge of the water a bit and didn’t say any more. Matt finally led her back to the bungalow, and she said, “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Just try to enjoy it, Cathie. Rest and relax. You’ve done nothing but work and take care of other people and go to school for years. I want you to have a break. You’ve earned it.”
“Thank you.”
He hesitated. “I guess we should turn in. We have two bedrooms. Want the one on the left or the right?”
“I’ll go left,” she said.
He carried her suitcase into the room, which was a cool, classical white. There was a dainty white rug trimmed in delicate flowers. White rattan furniture. Gauzy white curtains and a mosquito netting draped over the bed and gathered at the four corners, obviously for decoration. A pristine, puffy, white comforter on the bed.
She sat down on the bed. Sank into it, was more like it. The mattress was soft and welcoming. She thought for just a moment about pulling Matt down with her and the way she’d sink even further into the mattress with him on top of her.
One more time, she felt the moments slipping away, like the three years allotted to her would never be enough.
He stood by the door, eager to get away, it seemed. “Go ahead and sleep in, in the morning, okay? We’ve got ten days, plenty of time.”
“Okay.”
“Good night.”
“’Night,” she said, trying not to think about being all alone on her wedding night.
Cathie took her overnight case into the sparkling white bathroom and quickly got ready for bed, thinking the busier she stayed, the less time she’d have to think about anything. Time for a nightgown. She had six, all shower gifts, ranging from skimpy to pretty and elegant. What she wanted was her soft, nearly threadbare, oversized T-shirt she normally slept in.
But a woman never knew what opportunities might come her way in the night. The most modest gown she had was a shimmering, ivory-colored silk with spaghetti straps and lots of pretty lace detailing the neckline that dipped low in back and in front, the one she’d wrapped the Box in.
She unwrapped it and shook out the gown, holding it in front of her, trying to gauge just how much skin would show, once she had it on.
“Not bad,” she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror, then slipped the gown on.
In her bedroom, she unpacked quickly, finally ending up with nothing but the Box in her hand. Cathie went to put it in the drawer in the nightstand, but that was awfully close to the bed. Not that she was expecting any luck there. But still…
She opened her underwear drawer, but there was all that lingerie again. No.
There was the closet. It was as far from the bed as could be. Cathie took her carry-on bag, put the Box in there all by itself, zipped the bag and reached up on her tiptoes to put it on the top shelf, in the farthest corner of the closet, turned out the closet light and closed the doors. There. Just in case.
She was losing it, for sure, would not ask that thing for anything else. Wouldn’t even think of it. No more lingerie anywhere near it. She clicked off the lights, drew back the covers of the bed and was just about to climb in when she heard a faint tapping on her bedroom door.
“Cathie? I think I need to—”
She opened the door and found Matt standing there in shorts and a T-shirt. It seemed he’d planned on talking to her through the closed door, and she sup
posed she should have left things that way, with doors firmly closed between them.
But the look in his eyes as they raked over her body in her pretty, white nightgown made her happy that she’d opened this one door. The power of speech seemed to have deserted him completely.
“Going out?” she asked, fighting the urge to cover herself up.
He nodded. “I’m not sure if I’m…ready to sleep. I thought I’d go for a run. I didn’t want you to worry if you heard me coming in later or if you came to find me and I was gone.”
He wanted to escape, he meant. It gave her a wicked, little thrill.
“Running away?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said.
Oh, he didn’t like that. She didn’t think he’d ever run from anyone but her.
She took a deep breath. He watched her breasts rise and fall. It was the first time she’d ever felt like she truly had any power over him, and she liked it. She liked it a lot. Could she manage to lose another gown in front of him?
Surely before their honeymoon was over, she could.
Cathie stood up on her toes and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. He stood rigid at the brief contact. “Well, I’ll be right here. Just in case you need me.”
Hell, yes, he was running away.
He went out to the beach, wondering how in the world he’d ever thought this would be simple? That he could live with her and not want her or not let her see that he wanted her? He’d known that would be an issue, but thought he could handle it, for her sake and for her baby’s. But he’d never thought about her wanting him and coming after him so blatantly.
What was she thinking? Matt wanted to wring her pretty neck.
He told himself she didn’t even know what she was asking for. But she was pregnant with someone else’s baby. She wasn’t quite as innocent as the girl he’d known.
And she wasn’t a girl anymore.
The feeling of that delicately soft skin at the side of her breast, his hand on that spot, the lush sweetness of her body cradling his, the sight of her in the thin silk of her nightgown…
And he was the one arguing against this?
Obviously, she’d managed to obliterate every bit of common sense in his body. All with a kiss or two, a dress that was falling down and a nightgown made for a virginally innocent bride.
She was pregnant, but he’d bet money on the fact that she was still innocent, that the idiot she hooked up with had been a lousy, selfish lover. She just didn’t handle herself like a woman who knew her way around a man’s body or one who was that comfortable with her own half-dressed body in front of a man.
Not that she should be. Not Cathie.
Not that she should ever be married to him, either, but she was, and he was worried that the next time he saw her, she’d just peel off her clothes and dare him not to take her to bed.
What the hell was he supposed to do with her now? Share a house with her for three years and never touch her?
Or anyone else?
Like that was going to happen.
Cathie could have sworn five minutes hadn’t passed before she heard a key in the door and then heard Matt come inside. That was odd. She was rolling over to look at the bedside clock when her bedroom door opened and there he was, looking like a madman.
“You’ve got to listen to me about this. You’ve got to know this is not the way things are supposed to be,” he insisted. “You know what I am. I’m an incompetent car thief, a street kid, a wild one with a no-account father and drunk for a mother, a kid who wasn’t supposed to amount to anything—”
“That’s not who you are.” Cathie sat up in the bed, fighting the urge to pull the covers to her chin. “That’s what you used to be and what you came from.” And she’d loved him, even then.
“And you. Everything was supposed to go right for you, Cathie. You were supposed to do everything right—”
“I know. I didn’t.”
“Including staying the hell away from me.”
“I tried, Matt. I really did,” she said, easing over to the side of the bed, letting her feet fall to the floor and abandoning the covers.
“If anybody was going to seduce you and then walk away from you—I would have bet money it would have been me. And I would have walked sooner or later, Cathie. And I would have broken your heart.”
“But you didn’t. Somebody else took care of that for you.”
“It should have been me,” he said, taking three steps across the room until he was standing by her bed, looking down at her. “Not to break your heart. I never wanted to do that. But I wanted you. I wanted to be the first man who ever touched you.”
“I wish you had been.” She reached out a hand and let it rest, palm flat, on his abdomen, the muscles jumping and tensing beneath her hand. “You’d have been much more careful with me.”
He looked down at that hand on his body, but he didn’t move away. “I swear, I could strangle the guy. I still might.”
“Matt, he doesn’t matter anymore.”
She dared to raise his shirt ever so slightly, then touched her lips to the tanned skin she’d uncovered at his waist, because she wasn’t letting him go now and it didn’t seem so intimidating to touch him here.
His body stirred, the running shorts leaving little to the imagination, and she wanted to touch him there, too, but didn’t quite have the courage. Let him try to resist her now.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “And even if you did…you don’t owe it to any man to have sex with him.”
“It’s not about that, Matt.” She got both hands under his shirt and let them glide up and over all those lovely muscles, the dents and swells of his hard body, the little peaks of his nipples. It was so nice to finally be able to touch him.
He caught her hands and stilled them. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep your heart out of this, and I swore I would never hurt you.”
“I know what we agreed to, and I’ve learned to be more careful with my heart these days,” she said. No time left for any shred of pride, she added, “And I’ve always wanted to be with you.”
She thought about kissing her way up to his own heart. She’d like that, placing kisses above his heart. She started at his belly, following the thin line of hair up the center of his chest. His breathing was positively ragged and leaning into him this way, she could feel how ready he was for this, thrilled to the knowledge that he wanted her this way.
“Always?” he said, his hand in her hair, holding her mouth to him.
“For as long as I’ve known what it was to want a man,” she confessed, her whole body tingling with need. “We could spend all kinds of time analyzing this to death, Matt, and trying to figure out how we ended up here and why. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? This is where we are, and it’s supposed to last a long time, and I just keep thinking, I want you to be with me. For as long as we’re together, Matt. Be with me.”
He moaned in answer. She got one of her hands free and slid it down his body until she had the swollen length of him in her hand through his clothes and rubbed up and down. His entire body surged forward for an instant and then back, thrusting into her open hand.
Maybe she was meant to be a wanton woman after all.
“You’ll regret it,” he said raggedly.
“No, I won’t.”
He reached back and in one smooth motion, pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. He stepped out of his shoes, tugged off his socks and stood there, maybe debating whether to strip completely.
She put her hand on him again, rubbing up and down through his clothes. He closed his eyes and groaned, then caught her by the arms and lifted her to him. His mouth landed on hers and he tucked every inch of her against every impressive inch of him. He gave her a kiss that could have had a woman melting into a puddle at his feet, one that went on and on, told her exactly what he intended to do with her.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life. “
Tell me what to do,” she murmured, when they came up for air. “I don’t always know what to do.”
“You’re doing just fine,” he said, the low, desperate quality to his voice convincing her that she was.
He palmed her hips, hiked her up a half an inch higher and more firmly against him. His body was so lean and so hard. Everywhere. She clutched at the muscles in his shoulders, his arms, his back, wishing she could slip completely inside of him and never have to leave.
She felt like that’s what he’d done to her—gotten inside, all the way down to her soul, and just never left. She’d tried and tried to forget him, to tell herself it was hopeless, that he simply didn’t want her. But he did.
They stood there necking like desperate teenagers, and she thought for a moment of that night so long ago when she’d managed to get herself alone with him late at night in her father’s pickup, on a pretty hillside overlooking a mountain lake.
It had been like this, just as desperate, except they’d both had all their clothes on and had been lying in the bed of the pickup. She still remembered looking up at the stars, once he’d pulled away from her and sworn that he didn’t want her. That he was a man who didn’t intend to stop, when he got a woman flat on her back, and he didn’t have any trouble getting what he wanted. And it had all been for show. He’d wanted her. His conscience just hadn’t let him have her back then.
“Oh, Matt.” She’d been so miserable for so many years.
He lifted his head and just breathed for a minute. Took her face in his hand and kissed her softly, sweetly. “Too fast?”
“No.”
“All you have to do is say so. Too slow. Too fast. Too much. Not enough. Anything at all. Just tell me. I’ll take care of it. I’ll—” He broke off.
“What?”
