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The Bargain

Page 10

by Desiree Holt


  He kept up the same motion, the same speed, until she saw his cock jerk, felt his body go rigid, and in a moment, his hot liquid splashed on her in hot spurts. She stared, fascinated, as he came again and again. When the tension finally left him and his muscles relaxed, his cock softening, he rubbed the thick liquid onto her cheeks and across her lips.

  “Now you are truly mine.” His voice was ragged as he labored to breathe, but his words were firm. “Mine.”

  “Yes. I am.” She reached her arms up to him and…

  The sensation of falling woke Tara. When she could brush the cobwebs from her brain, she realized the dream had been so real she’d reached for Cole and nearly rolled herself out of bed. She rolled back onto the tangled bedclothes and pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.

  Hell!

  This was really getting out of hand, but what could she do? How was she supposed to stop it?

  * * * *

  She woke in the morning more tired than when she went to bed. This time the erotic dream was even more graphic than previous ones. She swore she could feel the imprint of Cole’s hands on her breasts and thighs, feel his semen on her skin, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, there were no visible marks. Nothing there. Only an insistent throbbing that demanded release.

  She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

  What’s happening to me? I never had dreams like this about Mike.

  Or this kind of sex with Mike, if she were honest. She shivered, hoping cold showers would work as well for her as she heard it did for men.

  For the rest of the week, Cole made it a point to avoid her. He left early each morning before she was up, calling during the day to check on her in a very formal voice and telling her he would work late and eat dinner out. Well, he’d hired her to be a single mother, and it seemed that was exactly what she’d turned out to be.

  Tara longed to use Lindsey as a sounding board, but the situation was too intimate to discuss. She would have felt uncomfortable sharing the details, so she kept everything locked inside and wondered how she and Cole were ever going to find some kind of even footing.

  * * * *

  Cole threw himself into the routine at the office. If he’d worked with a frenzy before, now he was in overdrive. No one had any idea the agony he was suffering, sitting in his office long after others had left, staring out the window into the darkened night, wondering what he was going to do.

  At odd moments, in the office or in meetings, he would find his thoughts drifting and images of Tara would flit across his mind. She moved with such a graceful economy of movement, always in control, the light scent of her perfume an aura around her. He didn’t trust himself to go home to her, to be alone with her.

  His original idea seemed to be working, because it was obvious Molly adored her. He heard “Mama! Mama! Mama!” until he wanted to scream. It just wasn’t fair. He had what most men dream about—a gorgeous wife and an adorable child—and he couldn’t bear to be around one or trust himself with the other. Now, in addition to the child, he had to stay away from his wife.

  Sometimes when he climbed the stairs late at night, he’d pause at the door of Tara’s room, the way he had that first time and watch her sleeping. He gave thanks she couldn’t see the enormous erection that sprang to life just by looking at her. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

  When he couldn’t stand there any more, he would go to his room, lie in the bed that he hated and stay awake until dawn, anguishing over his stupidity and his mistakes and his raw hunger for what might have been.

  * * * *

  Friday afternoon, while Molly was napping, Tara poured herself a glass of iced tea and took a new book out to the patio. She was so engrossed in reading, she didn’t hear Cole come out of the house.

  “Good book?” he asked.

  She was startled. He never came home early in the day.

  “Yes, it is. Thank you for asking.” She frowned up at him. “Is something wrong? You’re home early.”

  “Wrong? No, not at all. Can you call Nicki Varner and ask her to sit for a couple of hours?”

  “I’ll call her.” Tara tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. This was the first conversation they’d had all week, and she wasn’t about to break the mood. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’re going to pick up your new car.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “That tin can you run around in isn’t safe for you and the child. I ordered a new SUV for you. They called and said it was ready.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should laugh, cry or throw something. “Cole, you can’t just make this kind of decision for me. We need to discuss things first.”

  He looked as if he wanted to swallow his tongue. “Tara, I’ve been a real jerk since the wedding. I need to apologize to you.”

  Her jaw dropped. “By buying me a car?”

  “You need one, anyway. Please. Just let me do this.”

  She wanted to put her foot down and tell him what he could do with his car, but he looked so unhappy she didn’t have the heart.

  “All right. I’ll call her.”

  Cole leaned against the counter, hands in his pocket, watching her in frustration. He couldn’t seem to do anything right, and he was afraid he was losing the battle in his desire for her. Tonight, they would pick up her car, maybe have a quiet dinner someplace, and he’d try to get his libido under control before Tara washed her hands of him.

  “She’ll be here in thirty minutes,” Tara told him, hanging up the phone. “Molly’s still asleep, and when she gets up, Nicki can feed her supper. How long will we be gone?”

  “I thought maybe we’d road test the new car and grab a quick bite while we’re out. Does that sound okay?”

  “Oh. Of course. Just let me put myself together.”

  He wanted to tell her she looked totally together, but he was afraid a compliment would give her the wrong message. God, he’d made such a mess of things he was afraid to even tell his wife she looked nice.

  * * * *

  Tara had to admit Cole had chosen well with the vehicle. The Chevy Blazer wasn’t so large she felt overwhelmed by it, and the silver color made it look less threatening. He made her get behind the wheel and drive it herself as they left the dealership.

  “No time like the present to get used to it,” he said.

  They stopped for an early meal at a small, little-known Italian restaurant that Cole had discovered years ago. The place was jammed, but the owner greeted them as if they were long lost family and set up a corner table for them.

  “I found this place by accident one night,” he explained as they were seated. “The food is excellent, and the atmosphere’s casual and relaxing.”

  And that it was. The aroma of garlic teased at their nostrils and stimulated their hunger. They shared an antipasto, savoring the sharp taste of their food and sipped on a bold, red wine. For the first time since the night of their wedding, the atmosphere between them eased. Over the main course, they chatted about common subjects—books they enjoyed, movies they’d seen, things that they liked and things they didn’t. It amazed them both that they agreed in so many areas.

  By the time they finished the meal, they were both feeling loose, without the tension that had gripped them. Cole took the keys to drive home, and when they pulled out of the parking lot, he took a CD from his pocket and slipped it into the player.

  “New music for a new car,” he told her. “I heard you listening to Springsteen one night when you were cooking dinner. This is his latest.”

  She was touched that he’d remembered and that he would take the time to do something so thoughtful. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

  * * * *

  Their social life, with the exception of one or two business dinners when Tara acted as hostess, consisted for the most part of time spent with Lindsey and Jake, but Tara was content with that. She felt comfortable with them, they knew the truth about the marriage so she di
dn’t have to pretend, and she and Lindsey had become close friends.

  And they spent more time with her parents than she had since Mike died. The Colsons adored Cole, and he seemed to genuinely like them. But it made it harder to hide the reality of their situation from her mother.

  “You look, I don’t know, contented but not completely, Tara,” Ellen said one day when she dropped by. “Sometimes you seem as if you’re living in limbo. Is everything all right with you and Cole?”

  “Yes, Mother. I’m doing fine. It’s a good marriage, and he makes me happy.”

  “I hope so, darling. You deserve to be happy. Not that we don’t like Cole. We’re crazy about him. I’m just concerned about you.”

  “Please don’t worry. Everything’s great.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Positive. I have a wonderful life.” She made a mental note to act less distracted when they were together. “By the way, did someone call you about information on you and Dad? Cole’s adding you to the company health insurance policy.”

  “Yes. I meant to ask you about that.” Ellen’s voice sounded puzzled. “Why on earth is he doing that?”

  “It’s very common in situations like this.” Tara had rehearsed her answer. “A lot of companies include extended families.”

  “Well, you be sure and thank him for us. It certainly makes things a lot easier.”

  And it means he’s kept his part of the bargain.

  She and Cole were finally at a point where they were more comfortable with each other, but only concentrated effort tamped down the sexual tension both felt bubbling beneath the surface. They dealt with it by avoiding physical contact and by going up to bed at different times.

  The other problem wasn’t going away, either. Weekends, Cole locked himself in his den so he wouldn’t have to deal with Molly. Tara wanted to weep with frustration. She had no idea how to break down the wall he’d built around himself, and every time she tried to bring up the subject, he shut her down at once.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she told Lindsey. “If I could just find out what’s behind it, maybe I could come up with a solution. I’ve just never seen a man reject his own child this way, especially one so affectionate and lovable.”

  “He’s fighting a lot of demons,” Lindsey told her. “I keep hoping he’ll pull himself out of it before it destroys him.”

  “Can you at least give me a hint?”

  Lindsey’s sigh was so heavy Tara heard it through the phone wires. “If it were my story to tell, I would. Cole has to realize he can’t keep secrets forever and tell you himself.”

  Once again, he avoided both her and Molly on the weekend except for the stilted dinners when they averted their eyes and made stilted conversation. The following Monday, he came home and told her he had to go to Colorado to meet with a new client.

  “I should be able to wrap this up in a day or two, but it may take a little longer,” he told her, his voice uninflected. He might have been giving her a report. “There’s a major developer who’s interested in contracting with us to do the construction work.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Tara assured him. “Just go and do what you have to.”

  She found she was actually glad to have him gone for a few days. It gave her a little breathing space and, at least temporarily, took care of the problem of two strangers living in the same house.

  A larger problem was the erotic dreams that just wouldn’t go away. She awoke every morning feeling as if she’d spent the entire night in heated lovemaking. Her nipples would be hard, and she could feel fluid between her legs. She tried staying up late and reading, watching documentaries on television, exercising before bedtime—nothing worked. She was thankful Cole was gone for a few days. At least, she didn’t always have to be on her guard.

  He said little about the trip when he returned except that it was successful, and he’d tell her more about it when he had all the details together. He knew she was still interested in what went on at the office, and it was a safe area of conversation for them. The one night of easy camaraderie didn’t seem about to repeat itself.

  A week later, Cole came home to tell her the Colorado people were coming to town to look at some other projects Alamo had done and two of the executives were bringing their wives.

  “I’ll be taking them to dinner on the Riverwalk. Will you arrange for Nicki to sit so you can join us? I think having you there would make their wives more comfortable.

  “Of course. I’ll call her right away.”

  She made all the arrangements at the restaurant, and Cole came home from work to change and pick her up.

  “Thank you for doing this,” he told her.

  “It’s part of the bargain,” she assured him and turned away. She didn’t need his impersonal thanks. She’d rather have nothing. But she’d walked into this bargain with her eyes wide open so she certainly couldn’t shut them now.

  Sitting in the restaurant, she glanced at Cole seated at the opposite end of the table. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. A sudden shiver ran through her body as she remembered that brief scene in her bedroom. She smiled at him, and he returned the smile, raising his glass to her in a silent toast.

  God, she’s beautiful, Cole thought to himself, not for the first time. He watched his clients falling under her charm, as did nearly everyone. She had taken to wearing her hair clipped back with a barrette or in a loose braid at home, but tonight she wore it loose around her shoulders, a look that reminded him of clouds of soft, brown silk. The earrings he’d given her on their wedding day glistened and shimmered in the muted light whenever she moved her head. He’d been doing well keeping his feelings under control, but he felt a sudden surge of possessiveness that came at him out of nowhere.

  He was shocked to realize how much he wanted his stamp on her. He’d loved to see that coffee-colored hair with its warm golden highlights hanging loose, the way it was when she got ready for bed, and run his fingers through it. He wanted to touch that skin with its honeyed glow and make her eyes blaze with passion. He wanted the world to know this exquisite creature was his wife. That she belonged to him.

  What could he say to her? Tara, I’m sorry I was so clumsy about this before, but I want you? Yes, in a way he’d never wanted any of the other women in his life. I love you? He wasn’t sure he even knew what love was any more, except it led to vulnerability and pain. All he had to do was think of Molly to know how right he was.

  Damn. He’d made a bargain and, if nothing else, he was a man of his word. Now, he was choking on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Cole and Tara arrived at a somewhat easier pattern to their existence. Dinners were not quite so uncomfortable, and she could tell Cole was making a real effort at conversation. He still avoided Molly except when it was totally unavoidable, but at least, Tara told herself, he was making an effort to make her feel more comfortable. The dreams came in intervals now, giving her some nights completely free of them. But she knew whatever she felt was still there.

  She saw it in Cole’s eyes, too, this unspoken sexual desire. But he’d made it plain from the very first night. No sex. They were so careful not to let whatever this was break free, but secretly they both knew it couldn’t go on forever.

  Fall arrived and with it the football season. Often on Sundays, the three of them would troop out to the Varner ranch to barbecue and watch the games. The visits eased the weekend tension, allowing Cole to be part of the activities and still retain his remoteness from Molly.

  * * * *

  Sometimes when he watched her, Cole had the urge to tell her how much she’d come to mean to him, but he was afraid to open that Pandora’s Box. He had enough trouble dealing with the threads of desire lurking in his subconscious. No Sex. What a stupid rule he’d established. At the time, he’d been so sure no woman would ever tempt him again. Maggie had destroyed his normal sexual desires, perverting them an
d degrading them, and he wasn’t about to make himself vulnerable again. Even if the situation was different.

  Now, of course, he was hung by his own rules.

  “I wonder what she was like before her husband was killed,” he mused one day when Sean asked how things were going. “I only know how she’s been since she came to work for us.”

  “I would guess a lot like she is now,” Sean told him. “You don’t get to be that self-possessed and composed overnight.” He looked at his brother, searching his face for something. “Still fighting those feelings about your wife, huh?”

  Cole shrugged. The last person he wanted to admit anything to was his brother. “Just curious, is all. She’s stepped into this whole thing so naturally.”

  How could he tell anyone what was really in his mind? That he didn’t think he could any longer avoid that fact he was falling in love with her? That he wanted to change the rules of this ridiculous marriage?

  * * * *

  In November, Tara took a chance and told Cole she’d like to have a big Thanksgiving dinner at the house. Invite her parents, the Varners and Sean.

  “I need to do something,” she pleaded when he frowned. “We’ve been to the ranch so many times I’m beginning to feel as if I’m a hospitality hog. I don’t want to impose on my mother by adding extra people, and I’d like to have a good holiday for Sean, too.”

  “Fine,” he bit off. “We’ll have Thanksgiving. Just keep the child out of my way.”

  Oh, goody, what a swell holiday we’ll have. Maybe, he can hang around and be the Grinch for Christmas, too.

  Tara shopped and cooked for three days, choosing the menu with care and refusing all offers of help. By the time the day arrived, she was in too good a humor even to be annoyed when Cole shut himself in his den for the morning. She knocked on his door when she went to get Molly from her nap.

  “Everyone will be here in an hour,” she hollered at him.

  “I’ll be ready,” came the muffled answer.

  Tara shrugged and went on upstairs.

 

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