So this was what wild-and-crazy felt like. Gretchen had thought she’d known desire before. But what she’d experienced in the past had been nothing like being in Marco’s arms, a brush fire compared to a raging forest fire, a kitten compared to a wild cat, a cloudburst compared to a hurricane.
When they finally resurfaced for air, they were both breathing hard. Leaning forward, Marco placed his forehead against hers.
“I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he said, “but will you give me this one night? I can’t offer you the lifelong commitment you need, but I can offer you pleasure. It won’t be the wild, crazy affair Jill made you promise to have, but, until the real thing comes along, it could be pretty damn good.”
One last time Gretchen strove for rational thought. She could say goodbye now, this very minute, and have her heart break. Or she could have one night in Marco’s arms and let her heartbreak wait until morning.
It took her less than a fraction of a second to make up her mind. She was only human, after all. What woman didn’t yearn to be held in the arms of the man she adored?
She’d have this one night with him, memories to treasure during the lonely days ahead. If that meant a member of Oprah’s staff would be calling to book her for a future show, so be it.
Gretchen backed out of his arms. Taking him by the hand, she led him out of the guest bedroom and into the hallway.
At the doorway to her bedroom she paused, half expecting the physical activity to have brought at least one of them to their senses. But when she looked at Marco, she wanted him more than ever. And the look in his eyes told her that he wanted her, too.
A gentle tug on his hand brought him across the threshold. “Stay right there,” she ordered.
Moving surefootedly through the darkness, she made her way to a bedside table and bent to turn on a lamp. A soft glow suffused the room. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Marco where she had left him, leaning against a wall, watching her. Pleasure filled her, and visions of what was to come sent a wave of liquid heat straight to the core of her femininity.
Fastening her gaze on his, she grasped the bedcovers and lowered them to the foot of the bed. Turning to face him, she undid the buttons on her cover-up. When it dropped to the floor, she reached for the straps of her bathing suit.
“Before this gets to the point of no return,” Marco said, making her pause, “what about birth control?”
Birth control. In the white-hot haze of desire, she’d forgotten all about it. She couldn’t believe it. Of course Marco, the commitmentphobic, would be the one to remember.
“No problem,” she said.
Crossing quickly to the dresser, she opened the sweater drawer and rummaged around inside. In triumph, a minute later, she raised the package of condoms above her head.
Marco’s lips twitched. “You hid them under your sweaters?”
She shrugged. “I never bought condoms before. I wasn’t quite sure where to keep them.”
“And someone using your bathroom, someone who might not have any scruples about searching through your cabinets, wouldn’t be likely to find them if you put them at the bottom of your sweater drawer.”
She had to smile. “That thought might have crossed my mind.”
“When did you buy them?”
“The day after I made my promise to Jill.” After she’d decided to try to seduce him.
“So you had them the night you agreed to help me out with Kristen.”
“Yes.”
“But you told me you didn’t have any birth control.”
“I didn’t. Not with me, anyway.”
He didn’t say anything for a long minute. “I see.”
She wondered exactly what he did see. Did he see how much she loved him? If he did, surely he wouldn’t be standing just inside her bedroom door, looking so impossibly wonderful she was certain she would awake any minute to find she’d dreamed the whole thing.
“The truth is, Marco, I was afraid that if you knew I had birth control close at hand, you might persuade me to fetch it. And, at the time, I was still feeling ambivalent about sleeping with you.”
“But you’re not feeling ambivalent now,” he said.
She lowered the strap of her bathing suit over one shoulder and sent him a teasing look. “What do you think?”
For someone who looked as though he was leaning negligently against her wall, he sure could move fast. Marco was at her side in an instant.
“I think,” he said, his fingers joining hers, “that this is my job.”
Gretchen dropped her hands to her sides and watched, not daring to breathe, as he lowered both straps over her shoulders and rolled the fabric of her bathing suit to her waist.
She’d expected to feel shy with him, but when his gaze lowered to her breasts and she heard the soft catch of his breath, what she felt was a sense of pride that her body could affect him so.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and for the first time in her life Gretchen believed it.
He pressed his hand, his wonderful healing hand to her chest, and for a moment simply held it there, his thumb gently caressing the hollow of her throat.
“I can feel your heart beating,” he said.
“Oh, good,” she replied breathlessly. “’Cause for a minute there I was sure it had stopped.”
He laughed softly, and his hand lowered to cup her left breast. Instantly Gretchen felt her nipples harden. For a minute his finger made teasing circles around her nipple, then he bent his head and his mouth closed on her tender flesh.
Her head fell back and she moaned. She had no strength to protest when Marco took advantage of her sudden weakness to catch her beneath her knees and scoop her up into his arms. There weren’t many men who could lift a woman of her height as easily as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. But then, there weren’t many men like Marco. In his presence Gretchen actually felt petite.
His eyes glittered with promise in the soft light as he lowered her gently to the bed. With movements so quick and deft she was barely aware of them, he slid her bathing suit down her legs and dropped it to the floor. A second later his bathing trunks lay next to it.
The bed gave as he settled beside her. When he moved to take her into his arms, she took hold of his hands. Climbing to her knees, she maneuvered him onto his back, saying, “It’s my turn.”
Obligingly Marco laced his hands behind his head. “Ladies first,” he said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.
Gretchen placed the flat of her palms against his chest, delighting in the feel of the smooth warm skin beneath her fingers. “I can feel your heart beating, too,” she told him, then proceeded to move her hands the length of his torso.
Bending her head, she trailed kisses over the skin her fingers had so recently caressed. His smell was wonderfully musky, and he tasted of chlorine and salt and something so deliciously male it made her head spin.
When she kissed the flatness of his abdomen, she felt his muscles tighten.
“Gretchen.” The word was both a plea and a groan.
She looked into his eyes, then at his arousal. Gazing into his eyes again, she curled her hand around him. Marveling that something so hard could also feel so silky and soft, Gretchen slid her hand the length of his shaft. Then, lowering her head, she tasted him.
Marco arched his back. “Gretchen,” he moaned again.
She raised her head. “Do you want me to stop?”
His eyes looked dazed. “Please, don’t.”
When she sensed him reaching his limit, she drew back. “Love me, Marco,” she pleaded, uncertain whether it was the physical act or the emotional tie that she was really begging for.
Lying on her back and watching Marco take a condom from the package and sheathe himself, Gretchen felt hot, liquid and languid. When he entered her, she gasped with pleasure. Nothing had ever felt so good, so wonderful or so right.
They moved slowly at first, then with mounting intensity. This was the way it shoul
d be between a man and a woman, she thought as she curled her fingers into his shoulder blades and soft cries escaped her throat. If only Marco weren’t so afraid of being vulnerable to the power of love. If only she could tell him how much she loved him.
All doubts, all worries, all consciousness was forgotten in a spiral of pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. After it was over, it took Gretchen a long time to reorient herself. When she did, she was stretched out next to Marco, her head cradled on his chest.
“What time is it?” she asked.
He turned his head to look at the clock. “Two o’clock.”
Two o’clock. She had to get up for work in four hours. So did he.
“It’s pretty late,” she said. “Do you want to go home?”
His arms tightened around her. “I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”
If she didn’t mind? He could stay forever, as far as she was concerned. Reaching across him she snapped the light off.
“I don’t mind at all.”
Within minutes she was fast asleep in the warm haven of his arms.
Chapter 12
“You look radiant,” Gary said.
“Thank you.” After giving him a distracted smile, Gretchen made a final notation in the file she was reviewing, then closed it and motioned for him to take a seat. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I just stopped by to pass the time. I haven’t seen much of you since your return from your week off.”
“I guess we’ve both been busy,” she said.
It wasn’t a total lie. Yes, she had been swamped with work, but she’d also been avoiding him. She knew he wanted to hear about her adventure. Even if she left Marco out of it, Gary was incredibly perceptive. She couldn’t dismiss the possibility—correction…probability—that he would read between the lines.
“Who’s the man?” Gary asked.
She blinked at the unexpectedness of the question. “Th-the man?”
“The one who’s making you look so radiant.”
“What makes you think it’s a man?” she hedged. “After all, as you yourself acknowledged, I recently had a week off. I got a lot of fresh air that week.”
“Yes,” he replied. “And you were exceedingly radiant the day you returned.”
Leaning back in her chair, she spread her arms. “Well, there you have it.”
“That was two weeks ago, Gretchen. And your radiance has grown with every passing day.”
Her arms dropped to her lap, and she felt her cheeks heat. “It has?”
He nodded. “Indeed it has. And since you’ve been getting precious little fresh air of late, in my experience only one thing could cause the flush in your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes and the spring in your step. A man, Gretchen. You’re having the wild, crazy affair you promised Jill you would have. Aren’t you?”
There was no use for further prevarication. She didn’t even have to speak for Gary to read between the lines. Besides, she needed to talk to somebody about the unexpected turn her life had taken.
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“Marco Garibaldi,” she said softly.
“The tenant doctor.”
Gretchen nodded.
“I thought you said he wasn’t interested.”
“I was mistaken.”
“Obviously.”
Briefly Gretchen explained how Marco came to join her on her adventure, then outlined the events that had culminated in their fateful midnight swim.
“So it was only to be for one night?” Gary said.
“That’s what he said.”
He peered closely at her. “But it hasn’t been just one night. Has it?”
“No.”
“It’s been all night, every night.”
She had to smile. Gary was making them sound like a pair of rabbits. “Not exactly.”
“What exactly is it, then?”
With all her heart, she wished she knew. “During the day, we go about our lives as normal.”
“And at night?”
“He comes to me.”
“And you make love.”
Gretchen felt the heat in her cheeks intensify. “Unless one of us is too tired.” Which wasn’t often.
“What happens then?”
“We just hold each other.”
There was a long silence.
“Uh-oh,” Gary said.
“What?”
“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re not having a wild, crazy affair.”
“I’m not?”
“Nope. What you’re having is a relationship.”
If only that were true. The pleasure she found in Marco’s arms was always tinged with bittersweetness. Every time they made love, she waited for the fever pitch of desire to fade. She knew that when it did her affair with him would be over. The prospect made her heart contract with pain.
“I’m not having a relationship, Gary.”
“Trust me,” he replied, “when a man comes over at night just to hold you in his arms, it’s a relationship.”
“If it is, it’s going nowhere.”
“The good doctor determined to hold on to his bachelor status, is he?”
“No matter what the cost.”
“And you’re in love with him,” Gary said softly.
The gentle understanding in his eyes had her blinking back sudden tears. “Desperately.”
“Have you told him?”
She felt her lips twist. “Do I look like a fool? He’d run for the hills.”
“He could change his mind, you know. Confirmed bachelors get married every day.”
The likelihood of that event was on a par with Gary suddenly deciding that he was no longer gay. Gretchen picked up her pen and proceeded to click the ball point in and out of position.
“So I hear.”
“What’s he have to say about this nonrelationship you two are having?” Gary asked.
Dropping the pen to the blotter, she drew a long breath and exhaled slowly. “That’s the thing. Neither of us has said a word. It’s as if we’re afraid to break the spell.”
“Do you think he loves you?”
Gretchen’s throat grew thick with emotion. “I don’t think Marco wants to love anybody.”
“Not wanting to and falling in love, despite not wanting to, are two very different things.”
“As are hope and false hope,” she retorted.
Gary inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Somebody’s going to have to say something sometime.”
“I know,” she replied. “I know.”
The stick turned blue.
Hands shaking like an addict going through withdrawal, Gretchen placed it on the bathroom sink alongside the stick with the plus sign and the stick with the vivid pink line. She sank onto the closed lid of the toilet and gazed unseeingly around the room. There was no denying it any longer. Her period, which was as regular as the sunrise, was seven days late. And three home pregnancy tests all said the same thing. She was going to have Marco’s baby.
With a groan she buried her face in her hands. How could this have happened? They’d used protection. Every time.
The words her mother had spoken to her as a teenager echoed in her ears. No birth control method is 100 percent effective. Abstinence is the only foolproof method against unwanted pregnancy.
Over the past twenty days, Gretchen had hardly been abstinent. At least once during that time, one of the condoms Marco had worn had not done its job.
Being a doctor, he was surely aware of the failure rate associated with condom use. Which was probably why, in the past, he had always required that both he and his partner use protection.
But he hadn’t required it in her case. His mistake. And hers.
Gretchen lowered her hands to her lap. Straightening her spine, she raised her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale and strained, but the light of determination shone in her eyes.
Gary h
ad been right. She and Marco were going to have to talk. And it looked as if she was going to be the one to initiate the discussion.
Because she had to tell him that he was going to be a father. It was the right thing—the only thing—to do.
And after she told him, then what? What would Marco say? What would he do? What would she do?
Gretchen had no idea.
“We’ll get married, of course,” Marco said.
Gretchen’s stomach had more knots tied in it than all the lassos at a rodeo. She wished she could see his eyes, tell what he was thinking. But he continued to stand the way he had been since she dropped her bombshell on him, with his back to her, his hands shoved into his pants pockets and his gaze aimed out the window. His tone of voice was as unrevealing as his stance.
She wanted to reach out, to touch his hard cheek, to tell him that everything would be all right. But she couldn’t, because she wasn’t sure anything would ever be right again.
He couldn’t be happy about this; she wasn’t happy about this. And she hadn’t spent her entire adult life avoiding commitment.
“You never wanted to get married,” she said.
“What I wanted doesn’t matter anymore. There’s an innocent child involved. You didn’t get pregnant by yourself, Gretchen.”
She was grateful for the concession. He was taking equal responsibility for the pregnancy. He wasn’t questioning whether the child was his, nor did he accuse her of poking holes into the package of condoms she’d supplied, a package they’d exhausted during their first few nights together.
There were men who wouldn’t hesitate to make either of those accusations, and dozens more besides. If Marco had turned out to be one of them, she would have lost all faith in her ability to judge character. She would also have thrown him out of her apartment.
Still, whenever she’d envisioned this conversation, she’d never once thought he would offer marriage.
“Marriage is the only option,” he said.
“Since when?” Gretchen replied. “This isn’t the Dark Ages, Marco. We have lots of options here.”
Promises, Promises Page 19
