Baby's First Christmas

by Marie Ferrarella

  “I’ll stop. It would probably kill me, but I’ll stop.”

  It was what she wanted to hear, what her soul needed to hear. The uncertainty that had held her in its iron grip seemed to melt like a glacier that had moved into tropical waters.

  It was gone.

  And she surrendered herself to what was to be. What she wanted to be. Arms twined around his neck, Marlene raised her mouth to his.

  With every pass of his hand, every hot, longing touch of his mouth, he created a world for her that robbed her of her breath, her thoughts, her mind. And gave her so much more in return. It gave her a world of sensations. And truths.

  He made her discover things about herself she’d never known. She felt wanton, wild, eager. The woman in Sullivan’s arms was light-years away from the young girl who had so desperately attempted to curry her father’s favor and from the more than competent executive who handily increased her company’s profits by giving up a piece of her life.

  It was as though she’d been blind all these years and suddenly was being able to see. Bathed in colors, she had no idea what to savor first.

  She savored it all. The taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands along her body as he stripped away her clothes, garment by garment, inch by inch until she was no longer wearing anything but happiness, and the sensation of his body, hot, hard, pressed against hers.

  She reveled in all of it.

  She was eager. Eager to touch him, eager to be shown more. Eager to feel her blood rush and her body hum with a strange music.

  With hands that were amazingly steady, she opened the button that held his trousers closed. Sullivan sucked in his breath as she lowered the zipper, her fingers feathering along his torso like rampant kisses raining down on his body. Her fingers were warm, her touch hot. He could barely think.

  It amazed him. He could hardly keep up with her. If he had meant to seduce her, as his father had covertly suggested, he found himself now seduced. There was no question that he was no longer in charge of what was transpiring. How could you be in charge of the wind?

  Marlene felt like unharnessed energy, a volcano that had been dormant for years, only suddenly to be roused into activity.

  She made him feel free. Freer than he’d ever felt in his life. There were no boundaries, no barriers, no limits for him.

  Sullivan kicked away the last of his own clothing, his body melding against hers as they rolled along the length of the bed. He fisted his hands in her hair, kissing her mouth over and over again.

  A wildness seized him, as if it had telegraphed itself through the medium of her body. It electrified him.

  He was afraid of hurting her, of not being able to hold back, and yet he seemed to have no say in it. His body throbbed with demands that she had stoked. She had undone him, taken all the knots that held the package together and ripped them away.

  Their limbs tangled as they rolled along her bed, the comforter scrambling beneath them like a large crumpled tissue.

  This was too singularly wonderful to be real, like a glorious celebration of life. Like something very important and precious. She could have cried if all her energy hadn’t been focused on him.

  Marlene buried her fingers in his hair, her mouth eager on his, as she felt his hot body sear against hers.

  She arched against him, her hips locking to his, her body begging for entry, for release.

  He had wanted to prolong this, to make it last even longer, to show her how it could be. But he was only a man, only so strong, and his own needs slammed into him as her body pressed against him, silently imploring.

  Rolling over so that he was looking down into her eyes, he crossed the last threshold and entered. She gasped once against his mouth and then, almost as if she were in a trance, began to move with him in the rhythm he created, a dance that took them both into the clouds.

  When the last note faded, Marlene was so awed she felt like crying.

  She did. Soft, small tears of happiness.

  He felt the moisture against his cheek as it rested against hers. Pivoting up onto his elbows, he looked down at her face, his heart freezing.

  She was crying.

  Damn, this was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. He shouldn’t have lost his head this way. He thought of her condition and was filled with self-disgust. What was he, a rutting pig? She’d just given birth, for God’s sake.

  “Hey,” he whispered as he bracketed her face between his hands. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She sniffed once, then slowly moved her head from side to side. “No.”

  He didn’t understand. Something was obviously wrong. “But you’re crying.”

  She didn’t think she had enough strength to move anything, but she managed to curve her mouth into a smile. “I always do when I’m happy.”

  Relieved, Sullivan flicked a finger along her cheek and captured a single tear. He examined the bit of moisture that could bring a man to his knees.

  “Then this is a good thing?”

  She took a breath, trying to steady her pulse. Her breasts brushed against his chest as they rose and fell. “It’s a good thing.”

  Lovingly, he swept her hair away from her face and just looked at her. She’d taken him completely by surprise, and that rarely ever happened. Warmth spread through him like a huge smile. “I think so, too.”

  Still watching her, he lightly licked the tear from his fingertip. Then rolling off Marlene, he tucked her against him on the bed.

  Because the room was chilly, he drew the comforter over both of them.

  She smiled. “You know, it’s true what they say.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about, only that the sound of her voice against his ear was soothing. The feel of her warm breath was anything but. How could he want her again so soon? And yet he did, with every fiber of his being. The woman was part witch, and he was more than willing to have her weave her spell on him.

  He smiled down at her. “And what is it that they say?”

  “That still waters run deep.” She tilted her head back so that their eyes met. “Who would have ever thought to look at you that there was all this untapped passion just beneath the surface?”

  Not him, that was for sure. “Obviously you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Her grin widened. “Obviously.”

  He couldn’t remember when he had felt this way. He’d had women, but she was woman with a capital W. He had no desire to leave, the way he normally did. No desire to leave her bed. Ever. “You were incredible.”

  Perhaps too incredible, he added silently. He needed time to clear his head. There were feelings within him that had been touched, feelings that he’d never quite experienced before. Feelings that pointed in a direction he’d never taken. Sullivan wasn’t quite sure he was ready to follow that route just yet, if ever.

  And yet, here she was, supple, wanting. His, at least for tonight. It was too much to walk away from.

  He shifted, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Her eyes grew smoky with fresh desire. He felt his own growing.

  “So, what do we do now?” she asked in a breathy whisper. She knew what she wanted to do.

  “We do it again.”

  Her lips spread into a smile that had its roots in her soul. “Again?”

  He nodded, attempting to look solemn. He failed. “Again. Until we get it right.”

  She could feel the breath backing up in her lungs as his hand gently played over her nipple, teasing it until it was hard. Keeping her voice steady wasn’t easy. “How long do you think that’ll take?”

  “All night, if we’re lucky.”

  She wanted to be lucky. Very, very lucky.

  It had been one hell of an incredible night. He’d never made love to a woman and fed a baby, then gone back to making love all in the same night. One for the books, he mused, watching Marlene sleep beside him as dawn nestled in between the slats of the soft blue blinds.

  She was one for the books. In a volume all her ow
n. The title would be a question mark.

  He didn’t want to get up and leave, which was precisely why he had to. This was going too fast for him, and he had to put brakes on the toboggan before he went over the precipice. He had to think.

  Of something else besides Marlene.

  He thought of slipping quietly out of bed, but he couldn’t bear leaving her just yet. She’d been too alone most of her life. They both had.

  Sullivan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She stirred. A moment later, her eyes opened, wide with wonder. And something more. He refused to classify it just yet. It was a lot better for both of them if he didn’t.

  Things were getting much too complicated as it was. And they were getting more so every moment he lingered.

  “It’s morning,” he whispered.

  “So it is.” She stretched and her body rubbed against his.

  Damn, but he wanted her again. He would have thought that after last night, he would be sated instead of inspired. “Maybe I’d better leave before Sally gets up.”

  Sally. The name brought back images of a walking frown. Sally would probably call out the National Guard if she saw Sullivan coming out of her bedroom.

  “You have a point.” Sullivan began to rise, but she pulled him back. “Of course, she sleeps like a rock when she takes cold medication.” A smile danced along her lips. “And she took cold medication.” Bless her.

  Marlene dug her palms against the bed, raising herself to a sitting position against the headboard. She pulled the sheet up with her. It rested invitingly along her outline and she knew it. “Of course, if you want to leave this early—”

  Want? The word was tangled up with visions of her in his arms. With needs that were bursting to resurface again. He struggled with the urge to pull away the sheet and nuzzle her. “I really should…”

  Marlene felt cold. And bereft. There was no regret, the way she thought there would be. Not about last night, only about this morning…and that he was leaving. “Is this how it goes, the morning after?”

  “Yes. Life has to go on.” No matter what it had in store.

  Sullivan reached for what was now a very rumpled shirt at the foot of the bed.

  As he slipped one arm into the sleeve, he looked over his shoulder at her. Her hair was loose, splayed about her bare shoulders, begging for his hands to run through it. And then there was the rest of her, barely hidden beneath the sheet that had slipped off and was now hugging the swell of her breasts.

  He felt his gut tighten.

  “Oh, the hell with it.” Pulling his arm free, Sullivan tossed aside the shirt and came back to bed.

  He’d just drawn her into his arms when her alarm clock went off. He thought of shutting it down now, but opted for later. His hands were full at the moment.

  “You make bells ring, Marlene.”

  Her eyes had drifted shut with the lazy, exciting pleasure that had overtaken her as his mouth found hers. They flew open now as his words and the sound belatedly registered. “The alarm!”

  “That’s what it is.” Maybe he should shut it down. He reached behind him with one hand, blindly searching the night stand for it.

  But for Marlene reality and responsibility clawed their way to the top. “No, I’ll be late for work.” She had forgotten all about that. He’d chased everything out of her head.

  But she had already placed him on a path that he had no control over changing. He skimmed his lips along the side of her throat, making her tremble even as she tried to drive a wedge between them.

  “Bosses are never late. Work starts when they get there.” He grinned. “You taught me that, remember?”

  She had said something along those lines the night of Cynthia Breckinridge’s party. Trust him to use her own words against her. She felt giddy. Her breathing was ragged again. It was as if he took away all her air and substituted stardust. “You’re making it very difficult to think.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” He lowered his mouth, his tongue skimming her nipples now. Marlene could feel her stomach muscles tightening like a clenched fist. “I’m doing it to both of us.”

  She was losing the battle, and she didn’t care. Marlene slid her shoulders back down onto the bed. “You don’t want to think?”

  He hovered over her, his body poised, his mind already possessing her. “Not right now.”

  But he thought later. He thought about her a great deal. About the way she’d felt in his arms. Like heaven. His own piece of heaven.

  And he thought about the fact that for the first time since he could remember, he was in way over his head. He was going to have to swim toward shore. He knew he couldn’t sort this out until his feet touched bottom.

  The best thing to do right now was not think about her at all. Not as a woman. Only as the mother of his nephew. The nephew he was supposed to return to the fold. For his father’s sake. And quite possibly, for Derek’s.

  He glanced at his reflection in the office window. And what of his sake? What was it that he wanted?

  He wasn’t so sure he knew. Until now, he had just wanted to be a success. To run the Travis Corporation to the best of his ability and build it up to be even more prosperous than it was.

  He’d never thought of himself as having a wife. Never thought of really going through life except on his own. And there was no reason to think of it now, he insisted, as he turned his chair around to face his desk again. He had come to terms with his life, and he intended for it to remain just the way it was.

  The word lonely whispered through his mind, but he managed to block it out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Who would have ever thought it? Marlene smiled to herself like someone cherishing a precious secret. She was actually watching the clock. Some change. But then, it had been a month for changes. Important changes.

  Marlene was aware of glancing at her watch at least a dozen times that day, perhaps more. And it was never to see how much time she had left until her next meeting, but because she was counting the minutes until she was free to go home.

  Free to fly home to diapers, to just barely grasping fingers and to what she would swear—no matter what Sally said to the contrary about gas—was a drooly smile.

  She’d been back to work for three days, and each day it was the same thing. It was no longer a matter of arriving early and staying late the way she had done for so many years under her father’s scrutiny and his grueling, high expectations. Now the process was reversed. She arrived late and left early. It was a matter of priorities. Hers had changed drastically.

  She was no longer leaving from something but leaving to something. She was leaving work to go to her son.

  It made all the difference in the world.

  Time, she thought, saving the last bit of work on her computer. It had been a long day, and she couldn’t wait to place it out of mind.

  Flipping the locks closed on her imported leather briefcase, the one her father’s secretary had signed his name to for her graduation, Marlene rose.

  She felt a smile welling up, spreading like golden honey all through her, leaving no room for anything else, no doubts, no negative feelings. No thoughts of work.

  Wasn’t life funny? she mused, pausing.

  It was a strange thing to suddenly find yourself born at thirty, but she had been. It wasn’t just a rebirth, it was more. In retrospect, she realized that she hadn’t been really alive until now.

  Her life was still hectic, still teeming with so much activity that it was bursting at the seams. Maybe even more so than before. But now she felt a satisfaction that had nothing to do with ads splashed across billboards or displayed within the bindings of a magazine. Nothing to do with awards or the ethereal rewards of knowing a job had been well done.

  Now her satisfaction derived from something more. It came from a small, vulnerable human being. Her contentment was locked up in the feel of a small child’s head nestled against her own as she burped him. Or simply when she held him.


  Her father would have thought she’d lost her mind. Her father, she thought with more than a trace of sadness, never knew what he had missed. This was what it was all about, not accolades, not money, not connections. It was about who you loved—and who loved you back.

  Marlene looked at the gold-framed photograph on her desk. It was a close-up of Robby at two weeks. Sally had propped Robby up so that he appeared to be sitting. He was wearing his sailor suit, and her heart melted just to look at him. The photograph had been taken the day before she returned to work.

  The afternoon, she added silently, remembering, before she had stepped into an entirely different world. A world with Sullivan. Now, as always, she struggled to place that in perspective. She knew what they had was just temporary, even though he had called several times and sent more gifts over for Robby. Robby was what was permanent in her life.

  She brushed her fingertips over the glass. The joy in having a child was absolutely unimaginable.

  She’d been right to do this, to have a child at this juncture in her life, before it became too late. Marlene set her mouth grimly. And nothing Oliver Travis had in mind was going to change that.

  Oliver made her think of Sullivan again. He looked nothing like his father. She sincerely hoped that he was nothing like his father. More than that, she hoped that the night they had shared had not been part of an intricate plan to win custody of Robby.

  She pushed the thought from her mind. Sullivan couldn’t be that deceptive. She would know if he was. Somehow, she assured herself, she would know.

  Marlene closed her eyes for a moment, reliving that night. Warmth shimmered through her just as it had then. She hadn’t realized she was capable of such feelings, that desire and passion existed within her to such depths.

  You’re never too old to learn, she thought with a bittersweet smile.

  She ran her hand along the desk top. Yes, a great many things had changed. Only a few months ago, she’d sat here long after everyone else had left, finishing one more idea, structuring another. Preparing for a meeting. Working hard and believing that it was a life. And it had been. But it had been her father’s life, not hers. Now she no longer felt as if she were only defined by the quality of her work. There was no longer that compulsion to relentlessly keep at something until she put a campaign to bed.