The Marriage Renewal

by Maggie Cox

  ‘I was in the gift shop,’ she was crying, ‘I only let go of his hand for just a second. Oh, my God! What can I say? Thank you, thank you.’ Hugging the child to her, she pulled him deep into her chest, directing a wobbly smile at Mac. ‘Bless you. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d wandered off and got lost—’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Mac squeezed the woman’s arm reassuringly then ruffled the toddler’s curly blond hair. ‘He’s all right now. He probably just wanted to go exploring and didn’t even realise he’d lost you until a minute ago. Look, he’s smiling.’ And he was. The child turned his head to beam at Mac as though he’d known him all his life. Tara drew level, her smile still in place. Mac took one look at her and hauled her hard against his chest.

  ‘My wife,’ he told the woman with the child, making no effort to conceal the pride and possession he clearly felt.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. Do you have children yourselves?’

  ‘No.’ Tara heard the heavy throb of Mac’s heartbeat next to her ear as he answered gravel-voiced, felt his torso stiffen as if to fend off a blow. ‘No, we don’t have children.’

  Lifting her head, Tara held Mac’s suddenly tortured gaze. ‘But we’re hoping to,’ she said clearly, ‘very soon.’

  ‘They change your life for ever but you wouldn’t be without them.’ The woman fussed over her small son, her relieved smile breaking free like sunshine.

  ‘So I’ve heard.’ His hand reaching for hers, Mac pulled Tara to his side as if eager to be going, the expression on his face now full of hope and need and longing that he couldn’t hide.

  ‘Well, good luck to you both. You make a lovely couple… I’m sure you’ll be wonderful parents too. Come on, Michael, let’s see if Mummy can find you a nice sweetie in the shop.’

  ‘Take care!’ Tara called after the woman as she left.

  ‘Home?’ Mac suggested beside her.

  ‘Home,’ she agreed, tugging him urgently in the direction of their car.

  They didn’t make it to the bedroom. The distance from the front door to the nearest available bed was just too far. During the long drive home the tension between them had built and built and they’d hardly spoken a word to each other because the slightest, most infinitesimal thing could so easily tip the balance between civility and sheer animal need. Tara squealed when Mac slammed the door behind them then pushed her up against the entrance wall, his expression almost brutal with want. All pretence at restraint gone, his hard, hungry kiss knocked her for six. Reeling from the clash of teeth and tongues, intoxicated by the seductive masculine taste of his clever, mobile mouth, Tara melted into the wall as he unzipped her jeans, wrenched them down to her knees then wordlessly helped her out of them. Even as she kicked off her shoes, he had both hands on her hips, giving the same rough treatment to her underwear, yanking down her panties to her feet then parting her thighs—plunging into her wetness with his fingers before claiming her lips in another primal, passionate kiss that made her blood roar and her thoughts tumble crazily.

  ‘Oh, God…Mac.’ Blindly her hands reached for the zipper on his jeans; she was weak with want, she couldn’t wait much longer, she couldn’t wait even a second more before—

  Releasing himself into her hands, he let her caress him briefly before guiding himself surely and expertly inside her. Everything clenched at that first deep thrust of possession and she was barely aware of his hands lifting her buttocks to position himself more deeply. ‘I think I’ve dreamt of this every night since we’ve been apart,’ he breathed raggedly against her mouth, blue eyes dark as midnight. ‘Tell me…tell me what you want and you can have it…anything.’

  Threading her fingers through the thick blond strands of his hair, Tara closed her eyes, gasping as Mac plunged again and again, deeper, harder, until she lost all sense of time and space and who she was. Nothing else seemed to matter. Passion transported her to a whole other world and all she could do was yield to the most profoundly intense pleasure she’d ever experienced in her life.

  ‘You, Mac. I want you…all of you. Don’t stop, please don’t stop or I’ll die.’ In answer, he shoved up her sweater, released both breasts from her bra, then took one of them deep into his mouth. Her hips bucked against his as wave after wave of deep, swirling gratification swept over her, leaving her body shaking, her mind suspended in a place where thoughts and intentions and past hurts had no consequence. As she sank against the hard-muscled strength of his chest, she almost felt Mac swell inside her. She registered the tangible tension in his body just a split-second before he spilled himself into her most feminine core with a grated groan, resting his head momentarily between her breasts while he recovered himself. Their loving had been hot, hard and fast…just the way she’d so wantonly craved it.

  When he eased her back down, tipping her chin towards him so that he could fasten his gaze on her eyes, he delivered the sexiest, most smouldering smile known to woman and almost brought Tara to her knees with the power of it.

  ‘You may well smile,’ she said quietly, her voice scratchy. ‘You were a very naughty boy.’

  Sliding his fingers between her legs, making her gasp out loud with the audacity of it, Mac grinned roguishly with the stunning confidence of a virile male who knew he could supply whatever his woman wanted—and then some. ‘Want me to do it again?’ he asked.

  Propped up on one elbow, his free hand drifting lazily up and down Tara’s naked spine, Mac wondered how long it would take her to wake. The hours after midnight had not seen much sleeping. Although he was tired his body was still restless and thrumming from their lovemaking, and God help him but he wanted more. No matter how often his body mated with hers, it never seemed to be enough. For three days now they’d been in and out of bed—only deviating to eat and shower and maybe walk on the beach—and if lovemaking were an Olympic sport they’d surely be lead contenders. Had it always been this intense between them? This good? Or had the time they’d been apart merely intensified the need? His heart throbbed a little when Tara mumbled something into her pillow and turned her head to gaze sleepily up at him.

  His hand slipped lower down her spine to rest possessively on the undulating curve of her bottom. ‘What did you say?’

  She pushed her softly tousled blonde fringe out of her eyes, her expression drowsily concerned. ‘I asked if you’d been to sleep at all?’

  ‘Not so that you’d notice.’ Grinning, Mac let his fingers drift onto the backs of her thighs beneath the cool white sheet, making deliberate and delicious little inroads to the softer flesh between them.

  ‘Ma-a-a-c.’ Groaning out loud, she rolled abruptly onto her back, taking most of the sheet with her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m determined to get outside and get some exercise today, that’s what. You’re turning me into a thoroughly decadent and lazy woman!’ Wriggling into a sitting position, she yanked the sheet further up to cover her breasts and bit her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud when Mac tried to relieve her of it.

  ‘Just one kiss,’ he pleaded huskily, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, ‘one little kiss and I’ll let you go…if that’s what you want.’

  They both knew it wouldn’t stop at ‘one little kiss.’ Already Tara’s body was tingling with anticipation, the place between her thighs throbbing and damp with need, her lush mouth swollen from the hundreds of kisses she’d received the night before…

  God, he was wonderful. Her heart swelled with love for him. Spending time together, free from the demands and considerations of their normal lives, Tara had discovered a whole new side to Mac—or at least one she’d almost forgotten existed. He was playful and loving, tender and passionate, considerate and strong—all the qualities that would surely break the resolve of even the world’s most resilient woman.

  ‘All right, then,’ she said, teasing, one hand reaching out to push the sexy lock of gold hair away from his forehead. ‘I’ll let you have one kiss—only if you promise to cook me breakfast.’

/>   Blue eyes going dark, Mac tugged at the sheet to expose the beautiful, creamy fullness of her naked breasts. ‘It’s a deal.’

  ‘And I’m not talking cornflakes and a piece of toast here, Mac Simmonsen!’ she scolded, even as he slid his hands boldly up the sides of her ribcage. ‘I want the full works…eggs, bacon, sausages and tomatoes and…and…’ Her voice died as Mac bent his head to claim her breast. Hot, languid need coiled from her nipple to her womb, stealing her thoughts away like the most light-fingered pickpocket.

  Tunnelling her fingers through his hair, she let herself sink into the pillows behind her. ‘Oh, God, Mac…no wonder they call you “the Magician”.’

  The telephone rang suddenly, the sound stilling them both as its unwanted purring reverberated down the hall.

  ‘Don’t answer it.’ Green eyes dived pleadingly into blue.

  With a slight shake of his head, Mac smiled. ‘I have no intention of answering it,’ he assured her lazily. ‘It’s probably a wrong number anyway.’ His mouth descended on hers in a swift, demanding kiss. As her bones started to melt all over again, Tara twisted her mouth away.

  ‘What if it’s not a wrong number?’ The ringing persisted, suddenly seeming even louder. ‘What if Mitch is ringing you about work?’

  ‘Then Mitch can go fly a kite because I’m not answering it.’

  ‘Let me get it.’

  ‘What the—? Tara…what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  But she was gone from under him before he had time to think, hauling the sheet with her as she went, giving him a tantalising glimpse of a perfectly pert and rounded derrière as she ran out the door.

  Just a couple of minutes later she returned, a frown between her pale brows, expression concerned.

  Mac’s stomach rolled over. ‘Who was it? Mitch?’ If it was another problem at work, this time his second in command would just have to bite the bullet and deal with it himself. There was no way—none whatsoever—that Mac was breaking up this holiday again. Dammit, he’d sell the business first!

  ‘Not Mitch,’ Tara mumbled, touching her hand distractedly to her lips. ‘Aunt Beth. She’s had an accident and I’ve got to go home.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHAT do you mean, it would be better if I stayed at the hotel?’ Hardly believing what he was hearing, Mac followed Tara out of the car, frowning fiercely as she fumbled with keys to open the shop door. Her hand shook a little, and she wouldn’t look at him.

  ‘Aunt Beth needs me right now and I don’t think it’s right for you to just move in as soon as her back is turned.’ The lock gave, she pushed open the door and stepped into the dim interior filled almost to bursting point with venerable antiques and various objets d’art. Mac was close on her heels.

  ‘Do you mind running that by me again?’

  Turning wearily, Tara tried to shake off the tiredness that had crept up on her after several hours’ travelling and told herself it couldn’t hurt to engender a little sane distance between herself and Mac—for a few more days at least. In Ireland it was easier to convince herself that he would keep his promise of not being so work-obsessed—back on their home-ground Tara still wasn’t so sure. Beth’s accident would take precedence and perhaps give her a little more time to play with until she felt more certain.

  ‘I said—’

  ‘I know what you said.’ Anger rippled off him and engulfed her. ‘I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. Did I just imagine the last few days, Tara, or was it some kind of a dream? After all the things we said, now you try and throw me off like some pesky schoolboy as if our time together meant nothing! I thought we’d agreed that our relationship was firmly back on a permanent basis? How do you square that with banishing me to some quaint little hotel while you live here alone?’

  ‘Just until I sort Aunt Beth out.’ Huffing a sigh, she threw her keys onto her aunt’s desk and automatically unbuttoned her coat. ‘There’s going to be a lot to do around here. She has to be the priority.’

  ‘No!’ Furious didn’t even come close to what he was feeling, Mac realised. Before they’d returned to the UK, they’d talked, made love and talked again…long into the night and through it. They’d both agreed they wanted to be together for good. Now, as far as Mac was concerned, Tara was reneging on their agreement—again keeping him dangling while another convenient excuse presented itself for her to maintain her distance. He’d sacrificed a whole month away from his business to woo her again, to convince her they were meant to be together. He wasn’t slinking away now with his tail between his legs until she came to her senses.

  ‘I’ve been patient with you, Tara. It was never my intention to push you into making a decision either way, but I’ve given up a lot to be here with you. I just want you to know that I’ve done that because more than anything I want us to make our marriage work again. You want commitment—you’ve got commitment! The least we can do now is live together. I don’t care whether it’s here or at the hotel but to make this work we need to be acting as one.’

  Feeling for the desk behind her, Tara lowered herself back onto it, her stomach taking a slow dive to her shoes.

  ‘You’ve “given up a lot” to be here with me?’ Slowly she shook her head. ‘You mean your work, don’t you?’

  As he realised his error and mentally kicked himself for it, Mac’s gaze swept the room to buy some time before returning straight to Tara. ‘I didn’t mean that. It was just a figure of speech.’

  ‘You might fool yourself, Mac, but you don’t fool me! You’re just itching to get back to your agency, aren’t you? You’ve probably thought of nothing else the whole time you’ve been here!’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ She walked right up to him and poked him in the chest. Her eyes were spitting icy shards of green and Mac suddenly felt as if his whole world had come crashing down around his ears. Dammit…she was right. It wasn’t true work had occupied most of his thoughts, because when he was with Tara he thought of nothing else but her, but any moments he found himself at a loose end work undoubtedly crept into his subconscious. He hadn’t totally been able to leave it alone, and she was right about that. She was right and he was the biggest bloody fool that had ever lived.

  ‘Don’t look at me as if you’re about to burst into tears!’ Beth scolded her niece. ‘I’m the one who should be crying. I was just about to sell that damn chaise longue at long last and what do I do? Trip up over a chair and fracture my damn knee!’ Clearly furious, she helped herself to one of the plump black grapes Tara had arranged in the pretty glass bowl on the hospital locker then chewed it with no apparent enjoyment whatsoever.

  ‘Oh, Aunt.’ Sighing, Tara took the older woman’s hand in her own, patting it gently on top of the bed as she would a small child’s. Although her vitality wasn’t dimmed, the accident had visibly taken its toll on her usually exuberant aunt. There were soft grey smudges beneath her eyes, and her face—for once devoid of make-up—was the colour of the palest ivory. Even the eye-catching cerise bed-jacket she wore failed to bring a warmer hue to her complexion. A tug of love welling inside her, Tara’s fingers curled more possessively round Beth’s hand as if willing her better.

  ‘Please don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m going to look after the shop and all I want you to do is give yourself plenty of time to rest and heal. You’ll be out of here in a few days but there’s going to be no rushing about like you’re used to. You’re going to be in a wheelchair for a little while then on crutches, so there’ll be nothing for it but to get used to the inactivity. The sooner you comply the sooner you’ll be up and about again, like your old self.’

  ‘Since when did the pretty little niece who used to try on my make-up and dress up in my clothes get to be such a wise old woman?’ Sniffling, Beth yanked a small lace hankie from beneath her sleeve and pressed it carefully to her nose. Green eyes betrayingly bright, Tara gave the hand she held a brief affectionate squeeze.

  �
�Oh, probably since I made a complete hash of my marriage and ran away to lick my wounds instead of staying and trying to work out what I could do to get my husband back.’

  ‘And where is your husband right now? I take it he is still your husband? You didn’t succumb to a quickie divorce while you were away?’

  Two bright spots of pink shaded Tara’s cheekbones. ‘Mac and I are still married, and before you ask, I don’t know if it’s permanent—we still have a few things to work out. Right now I’m just taking one day at a time. As to your first question, Mac is back at the shop, keeping an eye on things. Knowing what a charmer he can be when he tries, he’ll probably have most of the contents sold before I get back…including your damn chaise longue.’

  That brought a smile to Beth’s melancholy face. ‘Well, if that’s the case I’ll have to sort out a percentage for him. Seriously, though, won’t he have to go back to London at some point?’

  And what are you going to do then? Tara heard the unspoken question and shrugged. ‘He’s got a couple of weeks yet before he goes back. Plenty of time to help me run the shop and do all we can to make things nice and comfy for you when you get out of here.’

  ‘Darling girl, but to be honest I’m more concerned about your welfare than mine. I suppose I have to trust that you know what you’re doing as far as that charming husband of yours is concerned. Plainly there’s nothing I can do to help right now anyway. And by the way, I do appreciate you cutting short your holiday to come back at such short notice. Perhaps Mac’s friend will let you have the house again some time soon?’

  As she thought of the long, lazy days they had spent together making love and walking on that gorgeous, deserted beach with white crystal waves lapping on the shore, Tara’s inadvertent sigh was laced with hope and longing. But the memory of their row when they’d returned home still featured large in her mind, marring any chance of happiness. ‘Who knows?’ Smiling briefly, she reached across to the attractive glass bowl to help herself to a handful of grapes.