"I love 'em," he said, tilting his bottle back and taking a long drag.
Was there a better example of all that was different between them? "You would. I'm not like that."
"Like what?"
She thought about it for a minute. "Adventurous."
"I'd disagree with that. In some settings you are extremely adventurous."
"Which ones?" she said.
He leaned closer to her. His spicy cologne surrounded her and then she felt his breath brush against her cheek. "Intimate ones."
She gave him a secret smile. Every time she was convinced they were an ill-suited match, this physical spark flamed back to life. There was a bond between them that went way beyond being parents to Peter, and touched on her secret fear of depending too strongly on this man.
"Drink your beer before I decide to test that adventurous spirit," he warned.
She took a sip of her beer and threw caution to the winds. "What if want to take that test?"
"You don't. Platonic friendship, remember?" he asked.
"Hoisted on my own petard," she said. She wondered if she'd merely issued Jake a challenge by insisting on a platonic marriage—a challenge he'd be helpless to resist. She knew him well enough to know he liked to win. Was that why she'd done it? So she could say he'd seduced her into changing her mind? So she could blame him if things went wrong?
She didn't dwell on that too closely, because it made her the worst kind of manipulator. She was only fooling herself. Jake wanted her and had made no bones about it. She was the one attempting to play it safe … and failing miserably.
"Indeed. Changed your mind?"
Time for honesty, Larissa. "About a dozen times but I always come back to the same decision."
"No sex?" He arched an eyebrow at her.
If she changed her mind it would make this ache deep inside her go away. For a little while, things would seem fine between them, but she suspected in the end she'd end up with a bigger ache. "Yes," she said quietly.
He finished off his beer. "In that case I'd better find something to distract me."
She took a sip of her beer and pulled the SkyMall catalogue from the pocket in front of her. Their time in the air passed quickly.
"The pilot has turned on the fasten-seat-belt sign signaling our descent into the McCarran International Airport."
Larissa nervously gripped her armrest. Once the plane landed, everything would be out of her control. Jake had worked on his laptop through most of the flight. He'd scheduled a meeting for late this afternoon with the Vegas D&D's. She was a little in awe of his business persona. It was nothing like the frat boy she'd known in their college days or the man she'd come to know since Jasmine Carmody had forced them back into each other's lives.
He put his hand over hers on the armrest and pried her fingers free. "Nervous?"
"Yes."
"Don't be. I'm right here and I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. Lifting her hand to his lips, he brushed a soft kiss against her knuckles.
She bit her lip and looked away from him and out the window. That was the problem. Jake was here and she wanted to believe it was forever. It was getting harder and harder to remember that he was here because his family had forced him to marry her to save face.
He'd been solicitous during their flight—friendlier than he'd been in the car on their way to the airport. She'd been tempted to lift the armrest and scoot as close to him as she could, to rest her head on his shoulder while he worked. She wanted to pretend for a minute that they were really going to Vegas to marry because they couldn't bear not being man and wife any longer.
But she knew the truth and that knowledge had kept the armrest firmly in place and her head on the back of the leather first-class seat.
He lifted the armrest and tugged her against his side. Leaning close to her, he whispered, "'The woods are lovely, dark and deep."
She glanced up at him. God, this felt too right. Too good. But for this moment, while the plane was landing, she wasn't going to pull away. She was going to stay close to the only man she'd ever trusted and repeated the words of their poem to.
Together they recited the rest of Frost's poem. The last line echoed in her head … miles to go before I sleep. She'd felt alone on her journey for so long. But as she glanced up at Jake and saw him watching her with those brown eyes of his, she didn't feel alone anymore.
And in her heart she knew she'd never be the same. Because Jake wasn't just the right man to fix the mess Jasmine Carmody's report would create, he was the right man to fill the emptiness in her soul.
* * *
Every time he thought he had Larissa figured out, she did something that made him realize he didn't. He'd meant to keep his distance from her, but he'd been unable to. In all the years he'd known Larissa, he'd never realized how much of herself she kept from the world, and especially from him.
The one thing she'd never tried to hide was how much their son meant to her, and he had a few doubts about the wisdom of continuing with his plan to sue for full custody of Peter.
Larissa started to pull out of his arms when the plane pulled up to the gate. He stopped her with a quick kiss. She smiled up at him and he felt it in his groin. He didn't know if he could keep up the dual life that they'd decided on. Public touching and kissing, private hands-off.
Yet, she'd said again today she wasn't ready to make love with him. And he wasn't going to push her. He was going to sit back and let fate direct him. Hell, no, he wasn't. He was going to do his damnedest to make sure she came to the same conclusion he already had.
"Nicola has arranged for a reporter to meet us here."
"Jasmine Carmody?"
"No. Another one who will write up a piece about how in love we are and how circumstances kept us apart."
"What circumstances?" she asked.
"My traveling, your job. We'll be vague. The important thing is to appear totally in love."
"Totally?"
"Yes," he said. Nicola had said nothing about appearing to be in love, but Jake wanted to know what it would be like to have Larissa look at him with complete devotion.
"I'm not sure I can do this."
"Too late to back out," he said.
"I won't leave you hanging, Jake. That was just nerves."
"Would it be so hard to love me?" he asked.
She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. They were so close she was still in his arms, but he felt a gulf open between them. He felt the space that Larissa used to protect herself from relationships open up. He felt her backing away and did the only thing he could think of to pull her back to him.
Storm her barricades. Lay siege to the fortress that was her body and win the battle. He brushed his lips back and forth over hers. "Don't fight it," he whispered.
"Fight what?" she asked, against his mouth.
"This," he said, angling his head and taking her mouth the way he wanted to take her body. With long thrusts of his tongue. Claiming every inch of her mouth with his own.
She opened for him and he felt her capitulation. This was the one place where they communicated with total honesty. Seducing her with tender pulls of her lips, he pushed his own hammering desires to the back burner and strove for patience.
He smoothed his hands down her back, bringing their chests together. Her heart hammered against his. She felt small and fragile in his arms.
Lord, she tasted better than he remembered. It felt like it had been years since he'd last held her like this. Then the dynamic of the kiss changed. Larissa lifted her hands to frame his face and tasted him with long, slow kisses.
Dammit, he was the one in control, he thought. But as she scraped the edges of her fingernails down the side of his neck, he gave up all pretense. He was putty in her hands.
Sliding his hands to her waist, he started to pull her onto his lap. He needed her over him now. He was hard and straining and he honestly didn't think he could wait another second to bury himself in her body.
/> "The captain has turned off the fasten-seat-belt sign, you are now free to gather your things and disembark."
Larissa jerked away from him. He cursed under his breath, dropping his head to his hands and breathing deeply to try to regain some control. He'd been ready to take her here in the damn airplane.
The other passengers began gathering their luggage and filling the aisle. There was no way he was going to be able to walk off the plane until he'd had a few minutes to forget about the incredible woman he'd just had in his lap.
He glanced over at her. She watched him with wide eyes that were full of confusion and possibly hope. She touched her lips gingerly.
"I'm not going to apologize," he said.
"Good. I'm not either."
He'd forgotten how sensual she was. Forgotten that night in Atlanta when he'd discovered that her passion for books and words extended to him as well. "I figured total lust would make better headlines than being in love."
"Good idea."
She gathered up her purse and unfastened her seat belt, preparing to stand. He put his hand on her arm, holding her in her seat.
"Aren't you ready to get off the plane?"
"No," he said.
She gave him a quizzical look. He gestured to his lap. Her eyes widened.
"I guess I do owe you an apology."
"Not on your life, Larissa."
She got that heavy-lidded look in her eyes and leaned toward him, but he held her back. "I'm an inch away from saying to hell with it and seeing if we can both squeeze in that rest room up there."
"Jake—"
He covered her lips with his fingers. "Not another word."
The last of the passengers filed by and Jake felt better under control. He picked up his briefcase and stood, keeping his hand on Larissa's elbow as they exited the plane.
She tugged her arm out from under his grip and took his hand. She slid her fingers through his. He glanced down at their joined hands and tried to not let it matter. Their holding hands shouldn't mean anything, but it did.
She trusted him. If she didn't want to admit that, it was fine with him. But he knew there was something between them now that hadn't been there before.
* * *
Nine
« ^ »
Larissa smoothed her hands down the sides of her simple wedding gown. She wasn't sure who had arranged for it, but there had been a small fortune in wedding gowns in the suite when Larissa had arrived. Jake had told her to pick one. He'd left her alone in the suite for the past four hours.
The hairdresser, makeup artist and photographer had arrived forty-five minutes ago and now she looked like someone she didn't recognize. Oh, God, what was she doing?
"Can I have a few minutes to myself?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am." All three filed out of the room.
Larissa walked to the mirror staring at the woman there. A woman who was sleek and sophisticated and not at all like the woman Larissa knew herself to be. She looked in the mirror like a woman suitable to be a Danforth wife.
She reached toward her reflection, touching the glass. This wasn't real. This was all pretend. Game face and all that.
But it felt real. It felt like the dreams she'd secretly harbored since she'd given birth to Peter. It's not real, she reminded herself again.
There was a rap on the door and Larissa went to answer it.
"Sorry, ma'am, but it's time to go upstairs for the ceremony."
She nodded. The hairdresser took the veil from her hands and placed it on her head. Tears burned the back of her eyes. She was alone with strangers, people paid to help take care of her because she had no family of her own to help with these moments. No mother to help her with her veil. No sisters to help pick out flowers or choose bridesmaid dresses. Just her. Alone. The way she'd always been.
The chapel was small and intimate. Jake stood at the front, talking to the photographer and Artie O'Neil, the reporter that Nicola had arranged to have write about their wedding.
Larissa tried to smile. Tried to pretend that this was what she wanted. That she was marrying a man who loved her. But she felt sick.
She turned and blindly ran down the hall. She heard voices and someone calling her name, but she didn't stop. She escaped through the fire exit and paused on the stairs.
She leaned back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her waist. She was crying. Crying for things that she'd never had. Crying for the dream that now seemed so childish and ridiculous. Crying for something that she'd never realized she wanted until now.
The door opened and she felt raw, exposed.
"Rissa, what's wrong?" Jake asked softly.
She tried to swallow so she could speak, but she couldn't. She turned her head from him.
He closed the door and walked toward her. She put her hand up. "Don't."
He stopped and she tried to pull herself together. But her mind was filled with pictures of perfect families. The kind of family she'd been trying to create for Peter. What she wanted and what she would have were very different.
"Talk to me, baby. I don't know what you need."
She didn't, either, and that was the problem. How was she going to be able to explain that she wanted something she'd never had? That today, when she was standing at the back of the chapel, she realized she wanted a mother? A real mother who would have noticed her daughter and not stayed mired in her own bitterness.
"I … I'm sorry."
Jake closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms. "About what?"
She shrugged. When he held her like this she didn't want to leave. She wanted to believe the illusion they were presenting to the world was true. "This. Being so emotional."
Jake tipped her chin back and she stared up at him through the filmy lace of her veil. "A wedding is a big deal in a woman's life."
"What about a man's?" she asked.
"What?"
"Is this a big deal to you, Jake?" She should have kept her mouth shut, shouldn't have worried about what he was going to say, but she did. She didn't want him to answer unless he said the words her wounded heart needed to hear.
He pushed her veil up and smoothed it back away from her face. Without the barrier between them, his breath brushed her cheek and his eyes were very sincere. He leaned close to her and whispered, "You're the only woman I've ever asked to marry me. You know this is a big deal."
She sighed. She did know that. Jake was a good man. A good man who she was falling more and more in love with each moment she spent with him.
She realized suddenly that her tears had nothing to do with the family she'd never really had and everything with wanting Jake to marry her for love and not convenience.
He handed her a snowy handkerchief that bore his monogram. She wiped her face and saw the residue of the makeup she wore on it.
"I just felt so alone," she said.
"Well, you're not. We're in this together."
"Sorry I made a mess of my makeup."
"I don't care about that."
"You don't?"
"Rissa, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Suddenly things didn't seem quite as desperate as they had earlier. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Are you ready to get married now?"
She nodded. He gently kissed her forehead and lowered her veil once again. Then taking her hand firmly in his, he led her back to the chapel. When they exchanged vows, a part of her began to believe that Jake never would leave her.
* * *
Larissa smiled for the pictures after their wedding, and even though Jake knew that they were playacting, it felt real to him. A little too real, he thought uncomfortably. He'd always been a loner even though he'd been surrounded by siblings and cousins. There'd been a core part of himself he'd kept private. Larissa was the only person he'd ever let get a glimpse of it.
And now they were married. Jake moved away to have a few final words with the reporter.
Larissa was standi
ng by herself. She'd clung tightly to his hand throughout the ceremony and he remembered promising her he'd help shoulder her burdens. He knew she didn't believe his words. But when he'd looked into her eyes and given her his vow, he'd realized he meant them. Legally she was his and there was a sense of rightness that accompanied that feeling.
Artie promised to send a rough draft of the article to Nicola for approval before his magazine printed it. Soon they were alone. Just him and his bride. The primitive part of Jake's soul was ready to claim her. To throw her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs and push aside her doubts. To prove to her that she'd made the correct decision when she'd pledged her life to him.
But he'd been raised with more sophistication than that. He'd arranged for them to have dinner on the rooftop of the hotel. Away from the prying eyes of any reporters.
Away from the intimacy of their suite. He crossed the chapel to her side.
"What else do we have to do tonight?" she asked nervously. He knew she hadn't liked the public part of their wedding—the pictures that would be sent to magazines and newspapers, the questions that Artie had asked and they'd answered.
"Nothing. The evening is ours."
She flushed a little and licked her lips. God, she was making all his good intentions hard to carry out.
"I've got a surprise for you."
"Really? What is it?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. He noticed she did that when she was in a contemplative mood. What was going on in her head?
He wished he understood her better. But he was honest enough to admit understanding Larissa or any woman had never been a top priority.
"A secret that I think you'll like. Now close your eyes and follow me."
"Okay."
He took her hand and led her to the elevator. He used the passkey he'd gotten from the casino manager to access the rooftop. When the doors opened, he pocketed the key and lifted Larissa into his arms. He walked to the table surrounded by candles and string lights. He set her on her feet.
"Open your eyes."
Larissa looked around at the romantic setting. A dining tent had been set up on the roof. It was draped in sheer gossamer fabric and lights twinkled from underneath it. She saw a table set for two. Beyond the dining area, the night sky was bright with the lights of the Vegas strip. But the smooth sounds of Jimmy Buffett poured from the speakers.
SIN CITY WEDDING Page 8
