The Marriage Agenda
Page 13
“You’re upset Rex didn’t come, aren’t you?”
She didn’t bring it up until they were alone, settled in the back of the limo with a bottle of strawberry champagne and the bonsai tree he’d given her.
“How did you know?”
“When you talked about him earlier, it was the only time all night you didn’t look at me when you spoke.” She offered a small smile. “I probably shouldn’t have asked. It was hardly the time or place.”
He reached for her hand. The diamonds sparkled brightly in the dim light. He still couldn’t believe she’d said yes. Don’t take it personally. It’s not like there isn’t something in it for her. “My relationship with Rex is hard to explain. I lost respect for him a long time ago, but there’s a part of me that still wants to make him proud. It’s like the ultimate prize…earning approval from a man whose made it clear he’s not going to give it.”
She tightened her fingers on his. “It’s also futile.”
He shrugged. “I guess there’s always that kid inside who wants to feel he’s doing something right.”
“I’m sure your mother thinks you are.”
He laughed. “Of course she does, but that’s what mothers do. Rex…not so much. He backs me publicly for his seat, but as soon as the doors close and the cameras shut down, he’s right back to that same old mantra—that I’ll never be the man he is.”
“I’d consider that a win.” Chloe’s eyes shone, so much so that he wondered if they’d filled with tears.
He wiped a thumb across her cheek, and she smiled. “You were perfect tonight.”
“I’ll settle for the reassurance I neither embarrassed you nor ruined your campaign.”
“No need to settle there. You kicked ass, even with your crooked eye and bad hair.”
“Knox!” She swatted at him with her free hand, and he took full advantage of her momentum by pulling her against his chest. When she opened her mouth to protest, he was ready, quickly pressing for entry.
She granted it. She pursued it.
He couldn’t breathe for the taste of her. The woman had never given herself to him without her whole heart, but this he felt to his toes. It was the kind of kiss that came with flinging clothes and slapping skin—primal and inescapable. And whatever she was doing to his tongue promised devastation.
He had the barest grip on the fact they were still in the limo, albeit with the privacy partition in place, but even as he fought for restraint, he was calculating how much time they had before they got home. The urge to thoroughly rock her world was seriously undermined by the effect she had on him. The light touch of her fingertips at his nape, the sleek expanse of her thigh exposed by the trek of his hand, the taste of the strawberry champagne—she was everything, and he was just as much a fool for thinking it as he was for denying it.
But he’d worry about that later. This…this was what the wedding night should have been. Polite conversation and gracious nods to well-wishers, when all he wanted was to get her home and naked as quickly as possible. But to bide his time, he had the soft, sweet taste of her lips and the unruly tangle of their mouths and limbs, all an unbearable precursor to what would happen when he had her alone. He couldn’t wait to strip her of that dress—to remove whatever invisibility held her hair off her neck and plunge his fingers through those carefree strands, holding on for dear life while he drove into her. He’d lose another piece of himself—one he’d never get back—but at this point he was willing to let go of everything to feel her. To be inside her.
Something had changed. Until tonight, they’d largely existed in their own worlds—she hadn’t needed to fit into his, and he hadn’t tried to be a part of hers. He’d just assumed the inevitable collision would be just how it sounded—a little breathtaking, a little messy, and with any luck they’d survive the eventual end. But she had been flawlessly his, fitting easily into his life no matter what she claimed. She was right in that she wasn’t like all those other women, but what she didn’t realize was how much his world needed someone like her. He hadn’t been prepared for that.
He couldn’t have been.
“I want you.” Any attempt to sound as if he had it together was obliterated by the hoarse, ragged quality of his words. Propriety be damned, he drove his tongue into her mouth, feasting on his hunger and nearly falling apart when she returned it.
“I can tell,” she murmured. “You’re not leaving much to interpretation.”
“You complaining?”
“No.”
“I can show you more.”
“We’re in the car,” she protested, albeit weakly. “Won’t Jeeves see us?”
“Jeeves is the butler. Davis is the driver.”
“Really?”
He laughed and shook his head. “We don’t have a butler.”
“Well, I sure hope we have a driver,” she said, casting a wary look out the window where the world passed dutifully by. “And I really hope he can’t see us.”
“Why not?” he teased. “Are you shy?”
“No…I just prefer to have a reasonable expectation he’s watching the road.”
He started to nod, but then her words hit him. “Wait…you’re not shy?”
She shook her head. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Too late,” he shot back. “I have the ideas. All of them.”
“You going to tell me about it?”
Tell, indeed. He uttered every word with her eyes on his lips. “I’m going to show you. Just as soon as this car stops…”
“I think there’s a traffic light ahead.”
“In our driveway,” he elaborated. “And after I get you in the house. As soon as I get you in the house.”
She laughed and traced his bottom lip with a fingertip. “Does this mean my little army of plants is going to get a show?”
“You’d better believe it. Brace yourself, Chloe. The bet is off.”
Chapter Sixteen
Chloe couldn’t breathe. The entire point of betting Knox he couldn’t keep his hands to himself was precisely so he would, and the plan had backfired to the extreme. Sex was one thing, whereas sex after a maddening buildup of sexual tension promised to be especially damaging to her whole plan of walking away unscathed. To that end, as much as she wanted him, she held on to the miniscule hope that he was just toying with her.
But he quickly proved to her that he’d meant every word. As soon as the limo door shut behind him, he was on her, kissing her breathless. He walked her backward over the cobblestone driveway, his mouth and hands on her every step of the way, and fumbled with his keys and the security code without breaking contact. Poor Davis—or whatever the driver’s name—was assuredly getting an eyeful, but to her surprise, she really didn’t care. There was something intensely erotic about a man as powerful as Knox driven to such unrestrained passion…and that she was the subject of his affection was nothing short of mind-bending.
As soon as the front door closed behind them and he’d set down her little bonsai tree, he had her flat against the wall. The cool plaster left her gasping, but no more so than the hard length of his body, holding her captive. He tore at her dress, his palm finding her bare breast while he kissed her fiercely. When he granted a slight reprieve, she hadn’t the time to catch her breath before he started on her neck. “This bet,” he muttered, “has lasted too damn long.”
Her knees were liquid, and gravity had ceased to exist. She knew the latter to be true because when he withdrew enough to unbutton his pants and yank his shirt out of the way, she managed to stay upright despite all odds to the contrary. Only a second passed before he had her again, in one swift motion sweeping her dress up her thighs and lifting her, wrenching her underwear to the side as he plunged deep inside her.
He stilled, and but for the pounding of her heart and the quickness of their breaths, the world lay utterly silent. Then he shifted, pegging her hard against the wall. “Look at me,” he said, driving into her at an achingly slow pace. “The only thin
g I want more right now than to fuck you senseless is to watch you come for me, and I don’t want you fighting to keep it from happening because of a stupid bet.”
She nodded, her lip caught between her teeth. She couldn’t think of anything more unbearably intimate than maintaining eye contact while he sent her flailing over the edge. His every touch left her inebriated, but never too much to lose that singular focus—never so much that she wouldn’t fall headfirst in the wrong direction if she shared too much. She knew that about herself—knew she should say no to his deceptively simple request—but some irrational part of her wanted this moment for her emotional scrapbook…as if anything good could possibly come from revisiting it.
He kissed her, deeply, sweetly, as he moved in and out of her, but for all of his surety and strength, he trembled. Knox Hamilton overcome…it didn’t seem possible. The rational pace didn’t last any longer than it took her to catch her breath. Within seconds, the rocking turned into pounding, the vast entry hall echoing with the wet smack of skin on skin.
Her promise to look at him lodged in her throat for all of a minute before the impossible dam of desire inside her burst, and she was left clutching his shoulders, her ankles snagged hopelessly somewhere behind his back. She leaned her head against the wall and saw honest-to-goodness stars. And hearts…the kind that circled overhead making little tweety-bird noises.
Knox, still pulsing thick inside her, dropped his forehead to her shoulder and laughed. “I think my legs are locked.”
She squirmed, her intention to guide her own feet to the floor, but he shook his head and held her tighter. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he murmured. “If that’s okay. Because that was way too quick, and there’s so much we can do in a bed that we can’t against a wall.”
She laughed. “If you feel the need to redeem yourself, you won’t hear any complaints out of me. Besides, I’m pretty sure I lost the bet.” And the use of her legs.
“I think it was a tie. Don’t let go.”
As if. Her legs were numb, her arms felt like lead, and she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact her heart was in danger. She could do nothing but hold on.
He half walked, half shuffled to the bedroom, effortlessly carrying her despite the fact that his pants were somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles, The opulent house passed in a dizzied blur. She’d blame the champagne, but some things were so brilliantly clear…like his eyes. She didn’t dare label what she saw there, but while everything else wavered around her, his eyes were steady. Just as his arms were strong, and somewhere inside of him, a piece had to be hers.
He’d never convince her otherwise. But would that ever be enough?
By the time he lowered her to the bed, she could almost feel her limbs again. He graced her with a devilish grin, lacing his fingers with hers and settling into a flawless new rhythm. No greater intimacy existed than what they had in that moment, him staring so deeply into her eyes as he rocked against her, wearing nothing but a smile.
She was almost drunk with the medley of sensation. The thick, soft comforter at her back. A slight chill from the air conditioner. Knox’s soft lips. His hard body. And the overwhelming fulfillment only he had ever given her.
He broke free from the trail of kisses he’d left down her neck. “I’ve never done that before, you know.”
“Done what? Wall sex?”
“Bare sex.”
He’d always insisted on protection during their previous relationship, and despite the fact that they’d never gone without, they’d both been tested. It warmed her that he trusted her when she said she hadn’t been with anyone else…and that he’d chosen her to be his first. It’s only sex, she reminded herself. No need to read anything into it. But at least now she understood why he’d quizzed her so thoroughly over the birth control pills she’d left on the bathroom counter. “Was it any good?”
He grinned. “It still is.” He dropped his mouth to hers, teasing the seam of her lips until she let him in. He kissed her as deeply as he moved inside, and before she’d managed to climb back up the cliff, she was lost to another free fall, dragging him over the edge with her.
For a long time, there was nothing but the sound of breathing. Then he kissed her tenderly. “You’re amazing,” he murmured.
“You’ve mentioned that a time or two.”
He propped himself on one elbow, and with the other hand, teased a few tendrils of hair from her face. “I’m pretty sure I could never say it enough.”
Chloe groaned. “You’re killing me.”
His brow knit. “I thought I was being nice.”
“Never be nice. That’s the worst thing you can be.”
He looked at her in bewilderment. “What?”
“Sincere. You want to be sincere. ‘Nice’ sounds too much like you’re saying or doing something because it’s expected and not because you mean it.”
He rolled over, off her, his body disengaging from hers with a loud plop. It should have been funny.
It wasn’t.
“Chloe, I can’t love you. I don’t know what else to say.”
She sat up, dragging the sheet with her. “Try the truth. You don’t want to love me.”
“I thought we had an understanding—”
“Oh, no worries. I’m not out to change your mind.” That was the truth. He hadn’t even looked at her. What chance did she have of changing him?
“Then what the hell is the problem?”
“You tell me, Knox. You claim to stand for honesty, but you can’t stop lying to yourself. You’re not Rex. Don’t you get that? You’re not him.”
Now he looked at her. Dead on, and so intensely she nearly edged away from him. “Maybe not,” he said, “but I was the little boy who cried every damn time he made my mother cry. She never knew it—she never cried in front of me—but when her heart broke, so did mine. I’ve carried that burden for as long as I can remember. I used to wish she’d just take me and leave. I would have lived in a cardboard box if it meant she would be happy, because then I could have been happy. But no, she wouldn’t walk away. The family name meant too much to her, so she stayed. She stayed strong. Then Rex got himself caught, and the one thing that kept her hanging on all those years was destroyed. It was that damned name. She wanted me to have a foundation—a legacy, dammit—but Rex couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
“No one blames her for that.”
“The reality can only matter so much, Chloe. She could have found happiness, but she held on to Rex because she wanted something to hand down to me. And now that he’s ruined the family name, everything she sacrificed for is gone. It’s just…wasted.”
She touched his arm. “That’s terrible, and I’m sorry for every bit of it. Truly. But nothing you’ve told me explains what you’ve got against letting yourself love someone.”
“Because, dammit, I’m afraid.”
The silence that followed was profound. And endless. Only the grandfather clock in the gallery carried on as if nothing had happened, the ticks grating in the quiet.
Minutes passed. Five. Ten. Twenty, for all she knew. Eventually he spoke. “Love isn’t worth it. Not for anyone, Chloe. Not even you.”
“You’re right,” she said, fighting tears. He didn’t deserve them.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re right. Loving someone is the biggest leap of faith you’ll ever take. Sometimes bad things happen, but if you don’t take the chance, you’ll miss every good thing life has to offer. Maybe your mom should have taken a chance and walked out on Rex, but it’s just as likely the chance she took was in staying. You’re not in a position to judge her. That was a personal decision on her part—maybe even a personal sacrifice—but whatever it was, I can guarantee she didn’t do it to watch you give up.”
“I’m not giving up,” he said. But he sounded defeated.
“No, you’re not giving up,” Chloe said. “But I think I’m going to have to.”
Chapter Seventeen
She didn’t fire back. She, who never let anything get past her, had simply rolled over to her side of that enormous bed, and she’d stayed there…not sleeping. He knew, because he’d grown so accustomed to the deep, even sound of her breathing that it had become his solace in the dead of the night. And that night, her breath was halting. Uneven. Not at rest.
He thought about apologizing, but for what? Being honest? Because when it came down to it, an apology would be a lie. He was sorry he’d upset her, but he couldn’t ease the brunt of the truth. Chloe meant the world to him, but he couldn’t love, and a woman like her couldn’t live any other way. Rebuilding that bridge between them would only harm her in the end.
She deserved more than that. She deserved more than him. And though he felt like the worst kind of man, he knew the best thing he could do was let her be hurt. Because then she would get mad, and eventually that would save her.
Something had to, because he sure as hell couldn’t.
…
There had been something different about the night of the reception—something for the longest time that Chloe couldn’t quite put her finger on. They’d been together at the charity dinner, but that hadn’t been about them. Maybe it hadn’t felt big enough. But at their reception, when he’d pulled her into his arms in front of everyone and Knox Hamilton had kissed Chloe Lochlan, the moment had been unmistakable. Something inside her had shifted.
And when he’d said he wouldn’t love her, that same something twisted. And shattered.
He was right. She knew he was. He’d made clear from the beginning she was entering a business relationship and nothing more, but facts hadn’t kept her heart from getting involved. The best thing Knox could have done was slam the door on those emotions, and though the timing couldn’t have been worse—after sex, of all times—she’d certainly felt the impact then, like no other. A rejection was one thing. One during the post-coital haze was just the kind of brutality she needed.