Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

by Penny Jordan

  “I only meant that you seem very happy. When are you due?” Connie prompted.

  Adara couldn’t help brightening at the topic of delivering a healthy baby, her misgivings from early in the pregnancy dispelled by her baby’s regular jabs and the closing in of her due date. Nowadays her fears were the natural ones of any mother, most specifically that her water would break while she was in public.

  But a few minutes later, when Gideon interjected, “We should start the dancing,” and guided her toward the floor, her self-consciousness returned. He must have felt her tension. As he took her in his arms, he chided, “Are you genuinely worried about how you look? Because I was being sincere. You’re stunning.”

  Biting off another self-deprecating remark, she chose to be truthful. “We haven’t been going out much, so I guess I wasn’t expecting so many stunned expressions at how huge I am. And look around, Gideon. Wait, don’t. There are far too many women with teensy waistlines and long legs and—”

  “None with breasts like yours. Do you think I’ve looked anywhere but down your dress tonight? Unless it’s at your lips. You’re not wearing lipstick, are you? That’s all you, ripe and pouty and pink. You’re sexy as hell.”

  Said lips parted in surprise. Everything seemed to taste funny these days, lipstick included, so she’d opted for a flavorless lip balm and yes, had noted that even her lips looked fat. She might have bit them together in an attempt to hide them, but his wolfish fixation on her mouth sent tendrils of delight through her.

  With a little moue she said, “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

  With a low growl, he stopped dancing and claimed her mouth with his own.

  The kiss was devastating, making her knees want to fold so he had to tighten his hold on her, shifting her to an angle to accommodate her bump. That tilted her head just enough to seal their lips with erotic perfection.

  He didn’t keep it to a quick punctuation to prove a point, either. Adara put up a hand to the side of his head, thinking, People are watching, but he gave her tongue a wicked tag and she couldn’t help letting the kiss deepen and continue.

  Oh, this man could kiss.

  A cleared throat brought her back to reality with a thunk that she felt all the way into the flats of her feet. A woman’s amused Irish lilt said, “Don’t interrupt them. They’re adorable.”

  “Nic,” Adara breathed in recognition of her older brother and his wife, growing hot with embarrassment as she realized what a show they’d been putting on. “Hi, Rowan. It didn’t sound like you’d make it.”

  Her brother and his wife were beyond star power, Nic in a tuxedo and Rowan showing off her lithe dancer’s body with an off-the-shoulder figure-hugging green gown.

  “Evie got over her cold and we wanted to see you again,” Rowan said.

  Nic leaned in to kiss Adara’s cheek before he shook hands with Gideon.

  Something passed between the two men that she couldn’t quite interpret and didn’t get a chance to study. Having kept up via webcam, she and Rowan had become tight friends and that gave them plenty to talk about. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of catching up while also going through the routine of photo ops and speeches for the anniversary celebration, partaking of the buffet, and finally returning to the penthouse exhausted but still keyed up.

  “That went well, don’t you think?” she asked Gideon as she removed her earrings. They were enchanting cascades of diamonds commissioned to match her ring. She’d almost ruined her makeup when he’d presented them to her before they’d left earlier in the evening, she was so affected by his thoughtfulness.

  Gideon made a noncommittal noise.

  “No?” she prompted, alarmed that he might have noticed a flaw she’d missed.

  “Hmm? No, it was fine. Perfect. Excellent. I’m a bit distracted. Look, you get ready for bed and I’ll be in soon. I’d like a nightcap.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Adara’s startled confusion was evident, but Gideon didn’t attempt to explain himself.

  He breathed a small sigh of relief as she disappeared and didn’t see the full measure of bracing whiskey he poured for himself or the rabid way he drained it. Despite the burn that promised forgetfulness, he wasn’t able to stop replaying his conversation with her brother.

  “I’d like a word,” Nic had said when both their wives had been drawn across the room by some fashion marvel.

  “Now is fine,” Gideon had said, keeping one eye on Adara, premonition tightening his muscles.

  “Understand first that I’ve always felt protective of Adara, even when the only thing she had to fear was a nightmare. Knowing what I abandoned her to, I’m sick with myself for not trying to contact her sooner. I’ll be on guard for her the rest of my life.”

  “Reassuring,” Gideon had muttered.

  “The way you two were arguing at the end of my driveway wasn’t,” Nic retorted sharply. “When you first arrived in Greece. Not reassuring at all.”

  Gideon knew better than to show weakness, but he flinched involuntarily. “I thought she was meeting another man. Tell me how you would react if you thought your wife was stepping out on you.”

  “She wouldn’t. But...” Nic shrugged, seeming to accept the explanation for Gideon’s temper that day. “Regardless, I’m a man who collects the facts before he reacts.”

  Gideon had spilled a dry laugh at that point, enjoying the euphemistic phrase “collects the facts.” “You mean you had me investigated.”

  “I don’t have to hire people to do my legwork,” Nic said disparagingly.

  “No,” Gideon snorted, wishing for a drink at that point. He’d known from the outset that Nic could be a threat, but he hadn’t expected this. Not now when he and Adara had both found such happiness. “What did you learn?” He surreptitiously braced himself.

  “What do you think I learned?” Nic asked, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing. Which doesn’t surprise you, does it?”

  “Of course it does,” he’d lied. “I’m all over the internet.”

  “Gideon Vozaras is,” Nic agreed. “He’s never made a wrong move. Some of his early business dealings weren’t as clean as they could have been, but that’s every scrappy young man trying to make his mark. Those men don’t usually appear out of thin air, though.”

  Gideon had calmly stropped his knuckles on his jaw, trying to disguise that he was clenching his teeth. “I’m fairly protective of Adara myself, you know.” He flashed a glance from her laughing face to the vague resemblance of her features in her brother’s rigid expression.

  The other man wasn’t intimidated, but there was a watchful respect. He didn’t take the danger of Gideon’s temper lightly.

  “I can see that things between you are different from the way they first appeared,” Nic said. “But secrets destroyed my life. I won’t let that happen to Adara.”

  “It’s not secrets that destroy. It’s the exposing of them. You really want to do that to her when she’s found the first bit of happiness she’s known since you were children?” He jerked his chin toward the circle of women where Adara was holding court with a flush of pleasure on her face, allowing another woman to feel the baby kick. “Think about what you’re doing, Nic.”

  “No, you think about it,” Nic had retorted sharply. “Do you want to make it easy and give me a name? Tell her yourself before I get there? Because I will.”

  “You want a name? Start with Delphi Parnassus and happy reading.” He’d bit out the words and smoothly extricated his wife from the party, claiming she needed her rest.

  “Gideon? Are you all right?” Adara asked him, yanking him back to the apartment where she stood in the bedroom doorway, face clean of makeup. Her hair was brushed into sleek waves. She wore one of his silk shirts, the front crossed over her bulging tummy and pinned by her folded arms. Her bump shortened the shirt, offe
ring such a tantalizing view to the tops of her thighs, he reacted like a drug had been injected into his loins.

  “Why are you wearing that?” His voice barely made it up from the depths of his chest.

  “I’ve grown out of all my nightgowns,” she said with aggravation. “Do you mind?”

  “It’s criminal, Adara,” he admitted with a scrape in his throat, polishing the last of his drink. “We promised not to tease each other. Let me get you my robe.”

  She tilted her head to a skeptical angle as he brushed past her. “I wasn’t trying to tease. But, be honest, are my legs okay? Because they seem swollen. No wonder everyone was appalled.”

  Be honest, echoed in his head, but the whiskey was burning through blood that had abstained from alcohol the way the rest of him had been going without his wife. Fear, genuine fear of losing her—not this penthouse or their cruise ship or the other properties they owned—edged out conscience or logic. All he wanted was to hold on to her. Tightly.

  “It’s been a long night. You should be asleep,” he told her when she followed him into the bedroom.

  “I had a nap before we left,” she reminded, scowling as he shook out his robe and held it for her. “Does it strike you that we act less like a married couple these days than a nanny and her charge? You don’t need to dress me.”

  He patiently continued to keep the robe suspended by the shoulders, inviting her to shrug her arms into the sleeves. “If I treat you like a child, it’s only to remind myself that’s why I can’t have you. You know I’m crazy about you.”

  “But how could you be? Look at me!” She flashed open the shirt she’d been hugging over her front.

  He shut his eyes, but not before he took a mental photograph of creamy skin, nipples dark and distended, lush, plump curves and a ripe round belly with an alluring shadow beneath that was not concealed by any satin or lace. She was naked and gloriously fertile.

  This was why ancient men worshipped the goddess who provided their young.

  “You can’t even look!”

  “For God’s sake, Adara.” He hung the robe on its hook and moved into his closet to change, needing the distance or he’d bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and show her how badly he wanted her. “If I wanted to sleep with a stick, I would have married one. You’ve always had a nice round ass and I like it. Frankly, it’s better than ever in my opinion. See how hot I am for you?”

  He paused in hanging his tuxedo pants over a rod and moved into the doorway, showing her his straining erection barely contained by his boxers. Every cell in his body was primed for her and this fight was only shredding what little control he had left. It didn’t help that he was also dealing with Nic’s threats, feeling his grip on Adara and their life together slipping away. He wanted to cement their connection with a prolonged act of intimacy, but it wasn’t possible.

  Adara’s gaze went liquid as she roamed it lovingly down his form, wetting her lips as she stared at the shape straining against the molding fabric of his shorts.

  “I could—”

  “I told you, we’re in this together,” he muttered, turning away from her offer even though it was like wrenching muscle tissue from his bones. But every time he thought of the way she’d gone down on him to protect this pregnancy in the first place, and that he’d resented not having all of her, he felt like the biggest heel alive.

  He was.

  He finished stowing his clothes and stepped into his pajama bottoms, returning to the bedroom to find her buttoning his shirt up her front, not looking at him.

  He sighed, but what could he say?

  A few seconds later, the lights were out and that delicious ass of hers was pressed firmly into his lap, driving him insane as she wiggled to get comfortable.

  “Can I have your arm?” She lifted her head.

  He obliged, sliding his arm under her neck the way she liked. As she settled and sighed, he smoothed her hair back from her ear and rested his lips against her nape. His other hand splayed on her belly and he let out a breath as well.

  She was still tense though and it made it impossible for him to relax.

  “Don’t be angry,” he cajoled. “This is only for a couple more months.”

  “Months,” Adara cried, nearly ready to burst into tears of frustration. Feeling his erection against her cheeks didn’t help.

  “Weeks,” he hurried to say, even though they both knew it was eight.

  “I’m dying.” She covered his hand with hers and drew his fingers into contact with the wet valley between her thighs. “See?”

  It was something she couldn’t have even contemplated doing half a year ago, but they’d grown close and honest and sexual. Her body wasn’t as visual as his when it came to showing how aroused she was, but she wanted him to know how badly she was suffering. She expected him to pull away and scold her, but he surprised her by burying a groan against her neck and stroking deeply and with more pressure. He explored her with the familiar expertise that always drove her directly to the edge.

  Her hips rocked instinctively into his caress, then back into that teasing hardness behind the thin shield of fabric pressed against her bottom. His other arm shifted to clamp around her, clasping one full breast and caging her to the wall of his body while he bit her neck. His hips pushed against her and he pressed two fingertips where she felt it most, pinning her in a vise of sheer delight.

  A quicksilver shiver was chased by a shudder and then the quaking poured through her, running like fire between her thighs and suffusing her whole body in sparkling waves of pleasure. The contractions were huge and stunning and incredible. She mindlessly prolonged them by grinding his hand between her legs and rocking her hips against his erection, loving everything about this wildly intimate act.

  When the paroxysm receded, she gasped for a normal breath.

  Gideon’s caressing fingers left her. She protested with a little murmur. Her body wanted more and more and more, but a sweet lassitude filled her too. Now she felt sexy and adored.

  She also realized her neck stung. Gideon had left a love bite there.

  Dazed but determined to keep things equal between them, she tried to turn. He swore and rolled away.

  “Don’t be mad—” She realized there was also a wet patch on her back. Plucking at it, mind hardly able to comprehend how... “Did you—?”

  “Yes,” he said tightly. She sensed he was lifting his hips to remove his pajama pants. A second later the pants were dragged from beneath the covers and sent flying across the floor. “What the hell did you just do to me? I haven’t done that since, hell, I don’t think I’ve ever lost control like that. It’s not funny.”

  Adara couldn’t help the fit of giggles as she sat up to remove his shirt. “I was kinda caught up and didn’t realize you were with me. That’s nice. I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, I noticed you were enjoying it. That’s why I was so turned on, but I didn’t mean to lose it completely. Thank God it’s dark. I’m so embarrassed—would you quit laughing?” He threw the stained shirt after the pants.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, unable to help convulsing with giggles as he spooned her into him again, skin to skin. It felt incredible and she snuggled deeper into the curve of his hot body. “Was it good for you?”

  “What do you think? It was fantastic, you brat. How’s baby? Did I hurt you? I was holding you pretty tight. Good thing you’re not going anywhere tomorrow, with that giant hickey on your neck.”

  “We’re fine. Both very happy.” She smiled into the dark, melting as he caressed her belly and nuzzled her ear. “But you’re not going to leave those clothes on the floor, are you?” she teased.

  He stilled and let out a breath of exasperation. “They’re fine till—oh, hell, it’ll drive me crazy now you’ve said it and you know that, don’t you?” He flung off the cover
s and gathered the shirt and pants to throw them in the hamper. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked as he returned to the bed that was shaking with her laughter.

  Adara used the edge of the blanket to stifle her snickers. “I’m sorry. That was mean, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was,” he growled, cuddling her into him once more. They both relaxed. “But you must believe me now. About finding you irresistible?”

  “I do,” she agreed, sleepily caressing the back of his hand where it rested on the side of her belly. Tenderness filled her and she knew she’d never been this happy in her life. “And I can’t help thinking... Gideon?”

  “Mmm?” he responded sleepily.

  “Are we falling in love?” Her heart stopped as she took that chance. It was such a walk straight off a cliff.

  That didn’t pay off.

  Stillness transformed him into a rock behind her. Her postorgasmic relaxation dissipated, filling her with tension. His breath didn’t even stir her hair.

  Stupid, stupid, Adara. Hadn’t she learned a millennium ago not to beg for affection?

  “I’m not sure,” he said in a gruff rasp.

  “It was a silly question. Never mind. Let’s just go to sleep. I’m tired.” She resolutely shut her eyes and tried to force herself to go lax, to convince him she was sleeping, but she stayed awake a long time, a thick lump in her throat.

  And when she woke in the night, he was no longer in the bed with her.

  * * *

  Gideon stood before the living room windows and saw nothing but his past. A dozen times or more over the years, he’d considered coming clean with Adara. Every time he’d talked himself out of telling her his real name, but this time he wasn’t finding an easy way to rationalize keeping his secret.

  At first it had been a no-brainer. She’d been all business with her proposal, selling him the upside of marriage in her sensible way. The hook had been deliciously baited with everything he’d ever wanted, including a sexy librarian-style wife. Telling her at that point that he was living under a false name would have deep-sixed their deal. Of course, he’d stayed silent.