by Marie Force
“Yes,” Paige said softly. “We’re done.”
“Okay, then,” Eleanor said. “Let’s go home for lunch. I have the books from the stationery store at the house, so you can pick the invitations this afternoon.” She rattled on without realizing the happy couple wasn’t listening.
Michael struggled with his bow tie in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom. He never had figured out how to tie a bow tie properly, which was something every other man in Paige’s life was probably born knowing how to do. He hadn’t had much need for that skill before he met her.
Taking another stab at the tie, he thought back to the first time he ever saw her, across the room at a gathering of third-year law students at the dean’s house. She had come with her father, the dean’s friend, and Michael could still remember the lavender cashmere sweater and matching wool skirt she wore to the late-afternoon cocktail party.
The Admiral had been in full dress uniform, and he somehow managed to command a room full of dignitaries. When Michael’s gaze connected with Paige, she smiled and rolled her eyes behind the back of her father who gestured as he made an emphatic point in the conversation he was having with the dean, the District of Columbia police chief, the junior senator from Maryland, and the state’s attorney from Baltimore City.
Michael tipped his head toward the bar, inviting her to join him for a drink. He watched her whisper to her father, who nodded without missing a beat in his conversation.
“Whew,” she said when they met at the bar. “Thanks for the lifeline.”
Michael chuckled. “My pleasure. Buy you a drink?”
“White wine, please,” she said to the bartender.
Michael ordered another beer. “Michael Maguire.”
She shook his hand. “Paige Simpson.”
They moved out of the party fray to sit by the fire.
She slid off her black pumps. “It feels good to sit down.”
Watching transfixed as she stretched her long legs, he was startled when his penis sprang to life. Holy junior high! He quickly shifted his eyes up to find that her porcelain complexion had grown rosy from the heat of the fire. In her blue eyes he saw intelligence, laughter, and a touch of mischief. He cleared his throat. “So what brings you to our exciting shindig?”
“My father.” She nodded to the Admiral. “My mother had a meeting, so he asked me to come along.”
“Is he stationed at the Pentagon?”
“No, the Naval Academy. He’s the commandant.”
Michael released a low whistle. “That must be nice.”
She smiled. “It’s not bad.”
“What about you? What do you do?”
“My father says I’m a professional student. I’m an undergrad here at Georgetown. I’ve switched majors a few times, so I’m on the six-year plan. I’ll finally be getting an art history degree in May.”
That made her twenty-four, Michael figured. She seemed both older than that and younger at the same time. The face was that of a child but the eyes were those of a woman, and they were studying him with interest.
“And you’re at the law school?”
“Yes. Almost done, thank God. Just a few more months to go.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know yet. I think about going home to Rhode Island to open a practice. That’s what I’ve always wanted to do, but I love living in D.C. So the jury’s still out.”
She smiled at the legal pun.
“Paige, honey, there you are,” a voice boomed from behind them.
“Dad, this is Michael Maguire, a third year at the law school.”
Michael stood to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Admiral.”
“Yes, likewise.” The Admiral turned to his daughter. “We need to be getting back to Annapolis. I have a faculty meeting tonight.”
“But my new friend Michael just asked me to have dinner with him, so I can’t leave yet,” she said with a sly smile and wink for Michael.
“You don’t have your car.”
“I’d be happy to bring her home after dinner, sir,” Michael said. He was rewarded with a bright smile from Paige that once again caught the attention of another part of his anatomy. Christ!
“Well, then, I guess that’s fine.” The Admiral kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t be out too late. You know how your mother worries. It was nice to meet you, Michael. Drive carefully with my daughter.”
Michael shook his hand again. “Yes, sir.”
They watched the Admiral consult with his friend the dean and saw him nod with approval.
“Looks like you just got the okay from the dean,” Paige whispered.
“It’s a good thing because I was thinking about asking you to have dinner with me.”
She laughed. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love to.”
A soft knock on the guest room door brought Michael back to the present. Opening the door, he found Paige wearing a pale pink strapless silk gown, her hair in a sleek French twist.
“You look stunning.” Michael stepped aside to let her in.
“Thank you. Are you ready?”
They had exchanged only a few tense words since their argument in the mall.
“Well, you know the tie always gives me trouble.”
“Let me,” she said, ushering him toward the bathroom mirror.
He squatted down so she could wrap her arms around him from behind.
She knotted the tie with quick, confident movements and then rested her hands on his shoulders.
“I don’t know how you do that.” He adjusted the tie into place on his tuxedo shirt. Catching her gaze in the mirror, he noticed tears in her eyes and turned to her. “What’s this?” He brushed at a tear before it could mar her eye makeup.
She shrugged.
“Paige?”
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said before. Did you mean it?”
“I’ve been having some worries lately. I won’t deny that.”
“About us?”
He nodded.
“And you wait until the day of our engagement party to mention them to me?”
“Actually, I tried to mention them last night,” he reminded her.
She clutched her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Paige! Michael! Are you coming? We need to go,” Eleanor called from downstairs.
“Just a minute,” Michael replied before he turned back to Paige. “Let’s enjoy the party. There’ll be time to talk later.” He held out a hand to her.
“Do you still love me, Michael?” Her blue eyes glistened with new tears as she held her breath and waited for his reply.
Leaning in to kiss her, he suddenly thought of Juliana and her soft, captivating brown eyes. Unsettled, he said, “Of course I do. Come on, your parents are waiting for us.”
Chapter 6
After their emotional discussion on the beach, Jeremy devoted himself to showing the reluctant Juliana a good time. They drove south along A1A to Saint Augustine where they walked through the Spanish Quarter. He tugged her over to look at rings in a jewelry store window.
“If you could have any one of them, which one would you choose?” he asked with a playful smile.
She pulled her hand free. “Don’t, Jer.”
“Come on.” He brought her back. “Just look.”
The diamonds glittered in the late afternoon sun. Only yesterday this discussion would have made Juliana’s heart dance with excitement, but now she just felt dead inside.
“Which one do you like? How about the square one? That’s cool, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Let’s go in so you can try it on.”
“No.”
“Jule—”
“I said no.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he pleaded. “I want to take back everything I said this morning. I want to go back to where we were before.”
“You can’t take it back, and you shouldn’t have to
. You were honest about how you feel.”
“Then tell me how you feel,” he said with quiet desperation.
She looked straight into his eyes. “I hurt,” she whispered. “Everywhere.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked down at his feet. “I love you so much. That I could’ve hurt you like this kills me.”
“Can we go back to the hotel? I don’t want to be here.”
“Sure.” He put his arm around her and led her to the car.
Back in their room, Juliana still didn’t feel up to talking, so she decided to take a nap.
“Do you mind if I go for a run on the beach?”
“No, that’s fine.”
After he left, Juliana stretched out on the big bed and turned so she could see the ocean. Would the sound of waves crashing on the beach always remind her now of Jeremy telling her he wanted other women? She ached when she thought about life without him—a life that revolved around her mother, her job, and her endless responsibilities. But how could she stay with him knowing what she did?
Losing him would be like severing a limb, only more painful. For so long he had been her refuge, her sanctuary, her place of peace in the storm of her life. She closed her eyes and must have dozed off because she awoke with a start when Jeremy returned from running.
“Babe,” he whispered. “Are you sleeping?”
Juliana kept her eyes closed so he would think she was asleep. She couldn’t deal with any more just then. When she didn’t answer him, he went into the bathroom to shower. At home he sang—badly—in the shower, but here he was quiet.
He came out a short time later and squatted down next to her, brushing the hair off her face and kissing her forehead. A few minutes later, he stood up.
Juliana opened her eyes. He had a towel around his waist and was slumped against the big window.
“Jer?”
Turning to her, his face a picture of devastation, he said, “I’m sorry, Juliana. I’m so sorry.”
She held out her arms to him.
He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned into her embrace. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Touched by his raw despair, she brought him down for a soft kiss.
He wrapped his arms around her and shifted her under him in the middle of the big bed. “Jule,” he whispered against her lips, “I love you so much. Let me show you.”
She arched into him, her arms tightening around him in surrender to the familiar dance.
He pulled back to gaze down at her before he tugged the shirt over her head. Capturing her hands, he left a lingering kiss on each palm and put them on the pillows.
“Leave them there,” he whispered, running his index finger straight down the middle of her, between her breasts and over her belly.
She trembled and fought the urge to reach for him.
Unbuttoning her shorts, he slid them and her panties over her hips and tossed them aside, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers.
He gave her ear his full attention then left wet, hot kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, and the end of her nose.
She tried to capture his lips, but he shifted to focus on her neck.
She moaned.
With the flip of two fingers over the front clasp of her bra, he freed her breasts and kissed her everywhere but where she craved him most. When he finally rolled her nipple between his teeth, she lifted off into a soaring climax that shook them both to the core. In all their years together, it had never happened like that for her.
He rested against her until she caught her breath and then devoured her mouth in a series of kisses that left her weak with desire. Cupping her, his fingers coasted through her slickness. As another orgasm rolled through her in soft waves, he raised himself to enter her. He gave her everything he had, as if it was their first time—or maybe their last.
And when it was over, he lay gasping on top of her, his eyes bright with emotion. “I love you, Juliana. I’ll love you forever.”
She closed her eyes tight against the burn of tears and held him close to her as the sun set over the beach.
Chapter 7
The Amelia Island Country Club sparkled with white lights, crystal champagne glasses, chandeliers, and candles floating in elaborate floral centerpieces. A small orchestra provided background music while the Simpson’s guests mingled over cocktails.
When Michael was introduced to the governor of Florida, the attorney general, and the state’s senior senator, he realized the Admiral was killing several birds with this party. A staunch Republican, he was considering a run for the House of Representatives from Florida’s fourth district.
“Meet my future son-in-law, Michael Maguire,” the Admiral said to the governor and the attorney general as he slapped Michael on the back. “He’s a prosecutor on Tom Houlihan’s team up in Baltimore. Michael’s first chair on a murder trial that starts next week.”
The attorney general, Derek Gantley, clasped Michael’s hand. “Gang shooting?”
“Yes, sir,” Michael said.
“I’ve read about that case. Looks good for conviction.”
“We like our odds.”
“Best of luck,” Gantley said.
The Admiral whisked him and the governor away to meet other guests.
Michael grabbed a glass of champagne off a passing tray and had downed half of it when he located Paige across the room surrounded by her high school friends. Before the Admiral transferred to the Pentagon and then the Naval Academy, she attended the exclusive Bolles School in Jacksonville while her father served as the commanding officer of Naval Air Station Jacksonville. Many of her friends still lived in the area, which was one of the reasons she had been so anxious to move back to Florida when her father retired from the Navy.
Michael was working on a third glass of champagne when Paige came to find him.
“Having a good time?”
“Yes,” she answered without looking at him. “They’re ready to serve dinner so we need to be seated.”
Michael followed her to the large head table where they sat with her parents, the bridesmaids, and their dates. He attempted to make conversation with the matron of honor’s husband, a big blond guy named Brad.
“You know how it is in marketing,” Brad was saying when Michael tuned back in minutes later. “You’re lucky to stay one step ahead of the changing times. That’s why focus groups are so critical.”
“Uh huh.” Michael preferred to focus on his prime rib. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Paige pushing shrimp around on her plate without actually eating anything.
Brad prattled on about market influences, direct mail, and the latest consumer buying trends. He seemed satisfied with Michael’s occasional nod.
After the waiters cleared the dinner dishes from their table, the orchestra leader called Michael and Paige to the dance floor. “Please join me in a round of applause for the happy couple—Michael and Paige.”
The applause embarrassed Michael. This whole thing was so over-the-top. But he took Paige into his arms and went through the expected motions as the orchestra played “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?”
Paige looked up at him with a sad smile. “Remember?”
After they had dinner in a Georgetown bistro the night they met, they walked slowly back to his apartment to get his car. In just three hours with her, he felt like he’d known her forever.
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they strolled through the quaint, eclectic neighborhood.
“Oh, look, Michael! They’re dancing. Can we go in?”
He gazed into the jazz club. “Don’t you need to get home? It’s a long ride to Annapolis,” he said, trying not to think about the two hundred pages he had planned to read that night.
She grinned. “I don’t have an official curfew anymore.”
He was already beguiled by that hint of mischief in her eyes and could feel himself drifting into something that had the potential to be important. Powerless against the urge to
frame that flawless face with his hands, he hadn’t expected the desire to roar through him when her breath hitched in the instant before he kissed her. He felt her arms go around him and her eager mouth open under his.
Long, passionate minutes passed before a group of passing college kids brushed against them, reminding Michael of where he was and what he was doing. Someone muttered, “Get a room.”
Paige giggled.
Still trying to get his head to stop spinning, Michael decided that no kiss had ever affected him quite like that one.
“Does that mean you want to dance, or what?” she asked with a teasing grin.
“Yeah.” He opened the door to the club for her. “Let’s dance.”
On a dance floor packed with couples swaying to the jazz band’s sultry sound, Michael took her into his arms like he had done it a million times before. He couldn’t help but notice how well she fit against him.
After they danced for a long while, a woman who sounded just like Ella Fitzgerald stepped up to the microphone to sing “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?”
Michael looked down at Paige, wanting more than anything to kiss her again.
She tilted her face in invitation.
Swamped with tenderness and need and a kind of wild desire totally unfamiliar to him, he touched his lips to hers.
“Paige,” he whispered when the song ended. “We should go.”
She nodded and followed him through the crowded club.
Back on the street, he took a deep breath of the cool winter air, hoping to regain control of his rampaging hormones. They were quiet on the short walk to his building where he helped her into his Toyota Camry for the ride to Annapolis. He got in next to her, looked over, and wondered what it was about her that had him so bewitched after spending just one evening with her.
She reached out to caress his face. “Michael,” she said in that breathy voice of hers.
This time when he kissed her neither of them held anything back, and the punch was twice as powerful as it had been on the busy sidewalk. He hauled her into his arms and plundered.
Her fingers tunneled into his hair as she responded with equal ardor.
