by Cole, Sunny
He had the sense he’d said something wrong and hoped it wasn’t that he didn’t show enough enthusiasm for her purchase. Maybe if he wasn’t so weary he could’ve pulled her into his arms and shown her more attention, even made overtures that would lead to intimacy. But he’d taken care during their trip not to rush her. No. When they made love next time, it would be at Riley’s encouragement. He felt he’d already made her uncomfortable by not reigning in his desire for her.
Women were such odd creatures, he mused while he stripped and stepping into the shower, and his wife was no exception. They always seemed to prefer being someone they weren’t. Riley wasn’t a sophisticate, thank God. She was more like a breath of fresh air, a crisp creature in a world of mundane blandness. She looked alluring in her new attire, but he hoped she hadn’t purchased it specifically for him, because he already thought she was amazing just as she was. In fact, the more he knew her better, the less likely he imagined her wearing clothes, period.
And that thought surprised him. When had he begun undressing her with his mind?
The more he considered his body’s reactions to his bride, the more Jack realised he wasn’t just a sex-starved loon for his wife. He actually gave a damn what she thought, how she felt, not just that she was safe. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t just been disappointed when she’d suggested returning home. He’d been hurt that she could leave him so easily.
Then again, what had he done to encourage her to stay? Absolutely nothing but buy her a few trinkets and take her to a winery.
He groaned and reared his head back, letting the warm water pelt him. He was standing in the shower getting hard as a rock, and all because an image of the spicy strawberry blonde had crossed his mind.
Down boy. I don’t have the energy to deal with you nor the strength to seduce my wife tonight.
He barely heard the knock at their door but knew it was time to dry off and return to Riley. He couldn’t help wondering what possessed her to stay, though, when he’d been certain she was about to leave him.
Chapter Fourteen
Riley hoped her disappointment wasn’t too evident. She wasn’t even sure why she felt so darned bereft. The dinner was superb, Jack’s mood was pleasant, but he’d zoned out from exhaustion almost the minute the last bite of food slid into his mouth. It was as if she was all dressed up with no place to go.
Worse. She was dressed to seduce and left with no one to entice but the boy who had come for their empty dishes. Not bloody likely.
The evening’s events, or lack thereof, made her question her decision to remain in Nice. Had she stayed for the sole purpose of seducing her husband? Had she remained out of guilt for what she’d been contemplating or a sense of obligation for what she hadn’t done? Why did she feel as if something important was missing?
All she knew was that the moment he stepped from bathroom to bedroom suite, it had been all she could do to keep from tossing him onto the bed and having her way with him. In her limited experience, she hadn’t reckoned on the powerful attraction a freshly showered male induced.
It was the first time she’d seen him wearing nothing but a bath towel. She itched to remove it from his muscled body.
She pulled her laptop from her luggage and set it up, connecting it via the hotel’s wireless service to the internet. She glanced at her cell phone and ran time conversions through her head. Ten o’clock Nice. Hervey Bay, Queensland would be nine hours ahead, and if it was seven in the morning, Lex would kill her for waking her at that hour. Lex rarely rose before ten.
Riley would send her an email instead. Sorry to cancel this late, but plans have changed. Riley hesitated before finishing. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. She needed to speak with Frost — had to, and Jack would have to understand.
She continued typing. Will book a flight out for day after tomorrow and sleep on the plane so I won’t be nodding off on you. Shouldn’t have a problem making the connections since no holidays involved. I’ll email you or text you once I’ve made arrangements with specific times of flights.
That should do it. She was pretty much committed now.
On one hand, Jack was glad the next day that Riley had shown interest in his family and where he’d grown up. On the other, he was reluctant to take her for personal reasons. He’d had a childhood without the drama, abuse or alcoholism many of his friends had witnessed with their wealthy parents. But the home atmosphere when it was just him, his parents, brother, and sister had made him feel he was at a well-ordered boarding school rather than the close-knit family home he’d desired. With his father constantly travelling and leaving his mother to handle home finances and children, there hadn’t been a lot of time for family outings, de rigueur birthday parties, or vacations.
His favourite times had been spent with his paternal grandparents. His grandfather had been the one to show young Jack how to get his hands in the soil, prune and examine the vines. Study the root and taste the fruit, as the old gentleman would say. It would be great seeing the old man again.
His grandmother was the family anchor who made delicious meals and had everyone gather around the big oak dining table for conversation and food. Even when she didn’t smell of bread dough or herbs and spices, the scents lingered in the ethers, invisible yet tangible promises that she could construct their favourite dishes again and again.
Their limo wound through ancient olive groves and fruit orchards before making its way to the vines and the house at the end of their journey. Riley touched Jack’s knee.
‘What is your favourite memory of home?’
He looked at her, perplexed.
She smiled shyly. ‘I’ve never had a real home until I married you, so I’m curious.’
Jack said the first thing that popped into his mind. ‘Culinary comfort. My grandmother was an amazing cook.’ He chuckled, remembering.’ She could make everything from coq au vin to boeuf bourguignon and make you forget you were at a country kitchen table eating it.’
‘And your favourite foods?’ Riley prompted.
Jack’s mind drifted easily back to when he was ten. ‘Her herbed breads and macarons.’ He laughed, feeling foolish, like he’d just dropped his pants.
But when he looked at Riley, she wasn’t laughing. She had a wistful smile.
He turned in his seat to study her. ‘You never had those?’
She shook her head. ‘None of them. Oh, I’ve had herbed bread from a bakery. But I’ve not had homemade breads and don’t even know the ingredients for those other dishes.’
Jack chuckled. ‘If it’s a French dish, generally if you have red wine, pearl onions, mushrooms, garlic, and butter, you’re good to go with just about anything.’
‘Hmm. Maybe you’ll cook for me sometime?’
Jack was startled. ‘Me?’
‘Surely, you cook. Didn’t you ever join her in the kitchen?’
‘Well...yeah, but I was young.’ He thought a moment. ‘Cook...now?’
Riley laughed. ‘You can read a recipe, can’t you?’
He wasn’t ready to get out when the car pulled in front of the house. He barely noticed where he was, he was so enchanted with their conversation. ‘It never occurred to me to try again.’ There was no need...until now.
Riley, too, it seemed, took no notice their car had stopped. ‘Did your mother cook?’
‘Hardly.’ Jack didn’t mean to sound brusque, but Maureen was never the domestic goddess his grandmother had been. ‘She was a good shopper,’ he added in his mother’s defence.
Riley grinned. ‘Of course, you had to get your talent somewhere.’
Jack looked past her toward the house. ‘There she is, the Credit Card Queen. Don’t let her intimidate you. She is Aussie but she’s lived here for thirty years plus, so she has that French woman’s assessing stare down cold. It won’t mean she doesn’t like you, merely that you’re a bug under her microscope.’
Riley ventured a quick look before their driver held her d
oor open. Jack’s mother was beautiful! Tall, statuesque, and a redhead. Riley wanted to howl with laughter.
Maureen beckoned them to hurry. ‘Jack, I haven’t seen you in ages. Come give your mother a kiss.’
Jack held Riley’s hand in his and led her up the stone steps to the front door. After hugging his mother and kissing her cheek, he made introductions, and as he’d said, Maureen was pleasant but reserved.
She withheld any demonstrative affection until after she gazed into Riley’s eyes. Seeming to approve of what she saw, she murmured, ‘Lovely.’ She pulled Riley closer. ‘Jack, she’s a doll. You did well.’
Then she hugged Riley and added, ‘So did you, chérie . I hope you know that.’
Unused to such a confident woman in her life, Riley was taken aback a bit, and a shyness she hadn’t felt in ages crept over her. Were the rest of Jack’s relatives this outspoken?
Maureen tapped her son’s shoulder. ‘Jack, take your wife upstairs so the two of you can unpack. Lunch will be ready soon.’
Jack led Riley from the foyer to the spiral staircase and from there to the second floor. Views of French provincial furniture at every turn and family portraits gracing the walls as they ascended were enchanting, if startling, reminders that this was where Jack grew up. Somehow, Riley expected him to have spent those years surrounded by high tech chrome and polished glass rather than antique pecan and earthen tones. She wouldn’t be surprised to find a beagle warming himself by a fireplace — a scene straight out of a magazine depicting cosy homes.
She touched his arm once they reached the second story landing. A whiff of something delicious drifted from downstairs. ‘What is that?’
Jack laughed. ‘My grandmother’s kitchen.’ He sniffed the air. ‘Brioche, if my nose is correct. And something else...maybe...’ He smiled. ‘Macarons.’
Surprised , Riley’s jaw dropped. ‘She’s here...and still cooks?’
‘Grand-mere wouldn’t allow another woman in her kitchen as long as she’s able to take care of the rest of us.’ He laughed. ‘She and my grandfather are in their eighties, but both are quite active.’
It was obvious that the Beauchamps were as well off, if not more so, than even the Fitzgeralds of Australia, so it was shocking to discover they didn’t have as many servants, particularly a cook.
Riley’s impression had been that Jack’s family was rather formal, even cold, but this place was anything but that.
He explained as they unpacked their suitcases and made themselves at home in their bedroom. ‘This house belongs to my grandparents. After my father purchased the company he now owns, and since my brother, sister, and I were no longer living at home, it made little sense for them to keep two residences, especially because my grandparents are to the point where they need a bit of supervision. Falls, that sort of thing. So my mother is here to care for them.’ He chuckled. ‘Whenever she can overcome their objections and get them to slow down.’
He took her by the arm and led her to the balcony outside their room. ‘Down there, the wing with the big terrace...that used to be a conservatory, but Mum turned it into a bedroom suite for them. Now they no longer have to climb stairs.’ He indicated the floor just above the terrace. ‘That’s my parents’ suite. There’s a spiral staircase that connects to my grandparents’ quarters, in case Mum needs to run and check on them during the night.’
Jack slipped his arms about her, clasping his hands at her stomach. ‘I’d forgotten how wonderful it is to be here. Come, I’ll introduce you to my grandmother. My grandfather is probably out checking his vines.’
‘He works, too?’
‘Like her, he’d rather be dead than unable to do what he loves best.’
Riley instinctively placed her hands on his and pressed. She was reluctant to have him move, to pull away and leave her without the comfort of his embrace. She didn’t know why, but there was such peace, comfort, and security within their circle of two.
Within a matter of seconds, she had a glimpse of what it must be like to be a part of Jack’s family, and she’d only met his mother. She also felt like crying, knowing that for her and Jack, this situation might never manifest itself. Not if there was no love between them. At least with his chest pressed against her back she had the illusion of family, the possibility of happiness.
Instinctively, she tilted her head as he bent to kiss her neck. The subtle heat from his lips, his breath against her skin, the overpowering tingle of anticipation before his tongue flicked out to taste her. Riley closed her eyes and pretended, if only for a moment, that he loved her. This is what it would feel like being Jack’s wife in more than name only. This was the bliss she so longed for, needed, craved.
Her hands left his and lifted so she could reach behind her and touch his hair. Silky, soft, incredibly sexy.
Jack kneaded her stomach possessively, owning her. His hands drifted up to cup her breasts and massaged gently — then down, down her sides, tracing the curves, then hesitating before moving forward and further down. He lingered, hovering over the area just long enough to make Riley writhe and moan. Just when she thought she would die from desire, his lips and tongue captured the tender flesh beneath her ear and he sucked, pulling her into an abyss. His hands finally reached their destination and clutched at her femininity. Riley cried out as he slipped into position and squeezed.
If he hadn’t stood behind her, she’d have melted. His mouth moved upward until his tongue captured his earlobe. Suddenly, he stopped and whirled her around to face him, and his lips were on hers in a fiery demand of submission. The hands that had moulded her flesh to his cupped her head, his fingers winding through her hair and tugging, pulling her, enticing her.
Riley’s legs trembled weakly, and she leaned her head away from him to catch her breath, but Jack refused to let her go. He slipped an arm beneath her legs, fluidly lifted her, and carried her to the bed. Beneath him, she was powerless. And she didn’t care. She wanted him, body and soul. Wanted to feel his touch, his kisses, to inhale his essence and become one with him. The thought was precious, sweet, scary but tantalizing. All she needed was courage.
His breathing was ragged, his eyes fierce. ‘Tell me what you want, chérie, and I’ll do it. Anything.’
Chapter Fifteen
Riley’s hesitation drove him mad with need. Why wouldn’t she give in to what they both wanted? Why hold back? It was all Jack could do to contain himself. He wanted to rip off her clothes, to bare her for his eyes and mouth, to slip inside her and stay for hours.
His body ached for release, and the fire he felt for Riley was reciprocated — he knew it. So why delay? He’d no doubt she could satisfy him and that he could completely make her his.
Jack’s heated body relaxed when he looked into Riley’s eyes. Tears glistened, threatening to spill, and why was beyond him. He knew he hadn’t hurt her, so there had to be another reason she became emotional.
Idiot. She told you straight up she didn’t want a baby by you. His ego did a flip-flop. He was elated her body responded to his as it did, deflated that no matter how hot they were for one another, there was still a part of him she didn’t want.
You only have yourself to blame. He grimaced and slid away from her, onto his back. He rubbed his hands over his face, wishing he’d not gotten carried away to the point that he’d ignored their blasted bargain. He wished he’d never had her agree to a marriage of convenience, because it bloody well wasn’t convenient for him anymore.
Perhaps if they’d met under different circumstances. If he’d met her at a party, on holiday, or through friends. But then he’d never have met her at all, considering they moved in different circles.
Maybe there was hope for them if he took his time, showed her what kind of family life he’d really prefer once she met his grandparents. Every family had their skeletons in the closet, their members who were warm and those that were cold. Had he become so used to lack of emotion in Australia that he’d forgotten how wonderful it had been growing
up? When had he turned into such a calculating monster that he could conceive of marrying someone because of their potential background? It was galling, abominable. A disservice to both himself and Riley.
But dammit, he wanted her, now more than ever, and he didn’t want a stupid piece of paper dictating how they proceeded.
He reached for her hand, hoping to let her know how he felt, that he was finally able to verbalise his regret in placing her in the awkward position of remaining with him only out of obligation. Wanting to ask her if there was a possibility she might...what? But his hand groped empty space. Riley was gone.
Once it became obvious Jack wasn’t making love to her, Riley slid out of bed to hide the pain, the thought he didn’t really want her. Just as she was on the brink of abandoning pride, he became reluctant. Maybe it was because he didn’t want anyone else in the house to hear them.
Then again, perhaps it was because he just didn’t want to lead her on.
She shoved the doubt demons aside. She’d think about them another day. She’d asked to see his ancestral home, and here they were. It was time to make the best of it. He might not want her now, but she was still interested in at least knowing him better, seeing something of his background, meeting his family, learning as much as she could. After all, it wasn’t like they were divorcing so soon.
He’d said his father was a cold man, more interested in business than family, but what of his mother? She had to have some spark of familial need if she was willing to move in with her in-laws and care for them. Lord knew they were wealthy enough they could’ve hired help or moved them to a convalescent home once they became infirm.
Riley primped, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She assured Jack she was fine, but she was hungry and wanted to follow the aroma of bread baking, so while he righted himself, she left, venturing on her own to find the kitchen.
The tiny woman hovering over the cooking range and examining the contents of a large copper pot made Riley smile.
