The Best Bride
Page 13
“Elizabeth, I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t blame you. I didn’t know what to say, either. I lived with that man for six and a half years.” She laughed, then stopped before the laugh turned into a sob. “I found out when the police knocked on my door in the middle of the night. They arrested him, right there in my living room. You know the funny part?”
He didn’t answer.
“I was going to leave him and get a divorce. The marriage—the whatever we had together—had been in trouble for a while. It didn’t work with his separations. Of course his already being married would have put a strain on things, too, if I’d known.”
“Elizabeth—”
“No, I know what you’re thinking. Any kind of moron could have figured it out. My God, in six years there should have been hundreds of clues. There were. I know there were.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. She stared at the loose tiles in front of her. One was plain cream with tiny flecks of rose. The other was the same cream background with rose-colored flowers in each of the corners. The bathroom was going to be beautiful when he was done. She wondered if he would let her come and look at it then, or if he wouldn’t ever want to speak to her again. She couldn’t blame him. Her friends had stared at her with disgust. Most had stopped calling. The ones who had continued to speak to her had made her feel worse. She hated their pity.
“I should have known. There I stood on my wedding day, so happy. I knew I would be the best bride, the best wife, the best mother. It was all a joke.”
The colors on the tiles blurred. She heard a movement behind her. Travis crouched next to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Dammit, stop beating yourself up.”
She stared at him, at his wavering image and only then did she realize she was crying. She raised one hand to her cheek. It was wet with tears.
“I told you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. “I warned you I wasn’t who or what you thought.”
“Give me a break,” he said impatiently. “You made a mistake. So what? People make mistakes all the time.”
“Not like this.”
“Hey, this isn’t half as terrible as some of things I’ve been imagining.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Elizabeth, you aren’t the bad guy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except be stupid.”
He smiled slightly. “That’s not against the law.”
She pulled free of his grip. “You haven’t thought this through, Travis. It’s not just about being stupid. I was never married. Every document I have is a lie. I won’t even bother with the details of what the IRS had to say about this. We had joint property together. It’s still not all straightened out. And my daughter—” Her voice started to shake. “My daughter doesn’t have a father anymore. I wasn’t married when she was born. Even her birth certificate is a lie. I love her more than anything, yet I might have destroyed her life. I only wanted the best for her and look what happened.”
“I’m sorry.”
He reached for her, but she pulled back. She leaned against the pile of tiles. “Do you know what it’s like having the police show up at your door at four in the morning? Do you know what my neighbors thought or said the next day? Sam was gone about two weeks every month. I used to wonder why he didn’t want to buy a house. Now I know it’s because his other life would show up on the credit report. He didn’t want me to go back to work, but thank God I did. When this all hit, I walked away with my daughter, my personal savings account and only what I’d paid for. I left behind everything else. I wanted to start over.” The tears began to flow again. She felt her voice getting thick, but she couldn’t stop. She had to explain it all. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
“Hush.” He reached for her and this time she didn’t have the strength to resist him. After months of carrying around her guilty secret she felt cleansed, having spoken the truth at last. She knew that Travis would never be able to understand what she’d been through or look at her without feeling disgusted, but right now she couldn’t deal with that.
He drew her into his embrace. He was warm and comforting, all the things her life lacked.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, willing herself to fight, but not able to find the strength. “I’m incompetent. I ruined my life and Mandy’s, and—”
“Never,” he whispered. He rested her head on his shoulder and stroked her back. “Never.”
“It’s true. I am. I’m—”
He silenced her with his kiss. His firm lips brushed against hers, his mustache tickled her skin. He tasted salty; then she realized it was her own tears. She clung to him, to his strength, letting herself believe that this was real. Even for just a second, it was enough. His powerful body acted as a shield from the horrors of her past. In his arms, she could forget her part in the debacle that had been her life. She could ignore how it had affected Mandy, and caused them both to be cut off from friends and family. Even her parents didn’t know the truth. She couldn’t face telling them.
She turned her face away, breaking the kiss. “I wish you didn’t know,” she said, inhaling the scent of his warm body, knowing he would soon remove his strength from her reach and she would be alone again. “I wish I didn’t have to see the disgust and pity in your eyes.”
He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What do you see in my eyes?” he asked.
She saw the flames that had been there the last time they’d kissed. She saw compassion, and something she couldn’t identify.
“You haven’t had time to think it through,” she said, not willing to believe it was that easy.
“Give me a little credit for knowing myself.”
She didn’t say anything because she knew he was wrong. In time he would get angry at her for being so young and blind. Her friends had. She’d certainly gotten angry at herself. She was used to the weight of disapproval.
He rose and pulled her to her feet. Then he bent over and picked her up in his arms. She thought about protesting, but she didn’t have the energy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and savored the feeling of being safe.
He carried her down the hall into his bedroom. She’d never been in here before. There was a large sleigh bed pushed against one wall. It dwarfed this room, but would look perfect in the master suite. An antique rocker stood in one corner. He settled down on the seat. She started to struggle.
“I’m not Mandy,” she said. “I don’t need to be treated like a child.”
“Maybe not,” he said mildly, “but you need a good holding anyway and this is the best way I know to do it. Relax, Elizabeth. Everything is going to be all right. I promise.”
“You can’t make it all right.”
“Sure I can. Even if I can’t make it right forever, I can fix it now. Close your eyes. Don’t think about it anymore.”
He held her head against his shoulder. His other hand moved slowly up and down her back. The comforting embrace weakened her resistance. She felt the tears forming. She clutched at his shirt and gave in to the pain.
It filled her, surrounding her. All the days and nights she’d lived with her shameful secret, all the lies she’d told, willingly and unwillingly. She’d hoped for a fresh start in this small town. Nothing was the way it was supposed to have been. This shouldn’t have happened to her.
Travis murmured quiet words of encouragement. Her sobs lessened. She drew in a ragged breath and turned her face toward his neck. His shirt was damp against her cheek, his legs hard beneath hers. Big strong hands held her gently, as if she were the most fragile of creatures. Something precious. She wanted to believe his embrace. She wanted to know that she was fragile and special, something of value.
“Better?” he asked when she’d been silent for several minutes.
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Thanks for understanding. Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed by all of it. Not just what went wrong with Sam, but for everything we’ve lost. I wanted to give my daughter a perfec
t home with two loving parents.”
“Mandy is fine. You have a new job, you’re healing from the surgery. You’re both going to make it. So what’s the problem?”
She stared at his neck, studying the way his evening stubble roughened his skin. She wanted to touch him there, to see what he felt like against her fingers, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t right to repay his kindness with her own selfish needs.
“I can’t marry again. I would never trust myself to pick the right man.”
“That’s a big decision to make, based on one mistake.” She sat up and glared at him. “It was a hell of a mistake. Who are you to be telling me what I should think about marriage? You’ve had one bad experience, and you’re never getting married again.”
One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” She tried to wiggle out of his lap, but he held her firm. “It wasn’t just one experience,” he said, resting his hands on her waist.
She stopped fighting and sagged against him. “Does it hurt you, too? Does it hurt to know you’ll always be alone?”
“Yeah. It hurts like hell.”
He reached down for her at the exact moment she raised her head toward him. Their lips met. Unlike their other kisses, there was nothing gentle this time, no soft exploration. It was hard and hot, hungry and desperate. She could feel her own pain and his pain. The hurt, the bleakness of their futures compounded one another, growing until they were both close to drowning in need.
She clung to him, to his arms and shoulders, shifting to move her body closer. His strength would be her salvation. Just for this night, just for this tiny slip of time, she would steal what she had to, give all she could so he would be saved, as well.
His mouth angled over hers, his lips parted. She welcomed him, welcomed the sensations he brought, the forgetfulness of pleasure. That is what she needed, she thought, feeling his tongue with her own, tasting him, being tasted. She needed to forget everything in her life.
He touched her face, her hair, her shoulders, her back. Whisper-light touches that barely grazed her skin. They set her on fire. She moved closer so that her side pressed against him. Her breasts ached. She wanted him to touch her there, touch her everywhere. The heat of the fire helped her forget. She could get lost in the smoke. Disappear into the flames. He made her come alive in ways she’d forgotten existed.
His hands rested on her waist, then began to move higher. Her breasts swelled, her nipples puckered inside her bra. Against her hip she felt the hard ridge of his erection. An answering wanting moistened her panties.
“Travis,” she breathed in anticipation as his fingers stroked her rib cage.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing the sensitive skin under her jaw, nibbling on her earlobe, whispering her name like a prayer. His lips were warm and damp.
His hands moved higher still, at last cupping her full breasts, taking their weight into his palms. His thumbs swept across her nipples, sending sharp jolts of pleasure down to curl her bare toes. She arched against his caress, searching for more and more of his touch. But instead of assuaging her need, he moved his hands up to her shoulders, then slipped his fingers through her hair and held her head in place.
She opened her eyes and stared at him. The fire burning in his dark irises left no room for any emotion other than passion. She reveled in the need and desire that matched her own.
Never taking her eyes from him, she touched his face. Her fingers traced the straight line of his nose, the shape of his jaw. She heard the rasp of her fingertips against his stubble, and felt the smoothness of his mustache. She touched his damp mouth, tracing the shape, enjoying the heat. He parted his lips and licked the tip of her finger.
She laughed. He smiled at the sound; then his smile faded and she saw the questions forming in his eyes. Questions that quenched the fire and overpowered the need.
The loss was more than she could bear. “Don’t,” she whispered.
“Elizabeth, you’re reacting. It’s too soon.”
The disappointment tasted bitter. “I thought men always wanted to get women into bed. I guess it’s not true.” She tried to slide off his lap, but he held her in place. She flushed. “Or it’s not true with me.”
He thrust his hips forward, pressing his erection hard against her. “Do you need more proof that I want you? I’m trying to keep you from having regrets in the morning.”
“You’re thinking about my past.” It hurt to be rejected out of hand. The feeling was made worse by the fact that he was the first man she’d been attracted to, or had even kissed, since Sam. She hadn’t made love for over a year. She’d never once been tempted to stray, and since she found out the truth about her marriage, she’d been too ashamed to try dating. Nothing had changed. She was still the shy little nobody. The girl who didn’t understand boys or know how to attract them. The boys had grown into men, but she was just as lost as ever.
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” she said stiffly, wishing she wasn’t turning bright red.
“Damn it, Elizabeth, what do I have to do to prove to you that I’m trying to act like a gentleman?”
“Nothing at all— What are you doing?”
He placed one arm around her back and slipped the other underneath her legs. As he rose to his feet, he pulled her against his chest. He walked four steps to the bed.
“You are the most stubborn woman,” he growled as he bent over and placed her on the comforter.
“Stop. You don’t have to do anything. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.” She started scrambling off the other side.
He grabbed both her hands in his. One he held down at the mattress, the other he drew to his crotch and placed against him. Even through his jeans he was hard and hot. He held on to her wrist and moved her palm up and down. A tremor shot through his body, and he gritted his teeth.
“Had enough?” he asked, his eyes once again burning with the fire.
“No,” she said truthfully.
“Elizabeth, don’t tempt me like this. You’re still recovering from your surgery. You’re upset about your past. I don’t want you to wake up and hate my guts. I like you too much for that.”
If he’d promised to love her forever, she would have never believed him. If he’d said the truth didn’t matter, she would have never forgiven him for the lie. But liking her she could believe. She liked him back. He was the closest thing in the world she had to a friend. He knew the truth about her and hadn’t turned his back on her. He might tomorrow. He might pity her or get angry. But for tonight he was her friend.
She reached for the first button on his jeans. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It could just be about tonight.”
“Hell.” He brushed her fingers away and bent down and kissed her.
He didn’t wait for an invitation, but thrust inside her mouth savagely, hungrily, as if he’d been given permission to devour that which he most desired. He sucked on her lower lip, nipped her chin, then moved lower to the neck of her T-shirt. He paused long enough to slip off the offending garment and continue his journey of exploration.
His hands led the way, unfastening her bra to bare her breasts. The evening air was cool, in contrast to the heat of his mouth trailing ever closer. Damp kisses ignited her skin. His scent surrounded her, filling her with images of the man who touched her. She reached out to embrace his body, feeling the muscles in his arms and back, touching his short dark hair.
He murmured her name over and over again as if it were an incantation. His fingers reached for and found her puckered nipples, toying with them, readying them for his mouth.
He moved until he was straddling her. Their jeans slid back and forth creating friction. The bulging male part of him mated with her softer, damper center. Through the layers of clothing, she felt the promise of their joining.
Her hands fluttered against his chest and touched the buttons of his shirt. Before she could unfasten even one, he touched her right nipple with his tongue.
Her breathing increased. She’d tried not to think about making love with Travis. She hadn’t been as successful as she would have liked. She’d known he would be tender and patient, qualities she’d seen in him every day. She thought she might enjoy the feel of his body close to her, on top of her, his powerful strength reminding her of her femaleness. His broad shoulders made her feel fragile—and safe. She’d known she would enjoy his attentions, but she hadn’t expected to lose control.
His fingers toyed with her other breast, teasing the hardened tip with the flick of his thumb. His kiss on her deepened, then he drew back and moved his lips over her nipple. The individual hairs of his mustache swept over her sensitized skin, making her gasp and bringing her shoulders up off the bed. She reached up and grabbed his head, holding him in place. She’d never been aggressive in bed before. She’d never offered any comments on Sam’s performance. He’d pleased her most of the time, and she’d been content with that. He’d occasionally asked her to be the aggressor, but she’d never had the courage to act without being acted upon.
But now, she had no choice in the matter. Those tiny prickling caresses made her breath catch and legs tremble. She couldn’t bear for him to stop. He kept moving back and forth against her breasts, taunting her with the movement. Her hips flexed again and again, pressing harder against his arousal. She was more ready than she had ever been. So close it hurt to breathe hard, and yet he hadn’t even touched her there.
When she thought she would explode or go mad, he slid down her body, trailing kisses to the waistband of her jeans. He sat up and unfastened the button and slipped the zipper down. She had enough awareness to raise her hips to assist him.