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Vengeful Vows (Marriage At First Sight Book 3)

Page 7

by Yvonne Lindsay


  “This is blissful. Ellie would have enjoyed it,” Peyton commented, shading her eyes from the sun as she rolled over onto her back.

  “The last time she came out on Galatea was with her mom and dad. She has happy memories on the water. I might see about bringing the yacht back to Port Ludlow for the summer.”

  “You can do that? It’s a long way to sail. Doesn’t it scare you?”

  “If I plan it right, nothing will go wrong. I bring a small crew with me on repositioning trips. You could come, too.”

  “I think I’ll take a pass on that.”

  “Chicken?”

  “No.” She shifted to a sitting position and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I can’t make plans that far in advance. I don’t know what I’ll be doing by then.”

  It was as if the sun had disappeared behind a cloud. He sat up, too. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I could be away on an assignment,” she said, sounding slightly flustered.

  “You’re still planning to work away from home?”

  “I still have a job to do, Galen. You’ll still be doing yours, won’t you? That requires business trips from time to time, doesn’t it?”

  She had a point but deep down inside he knew he’d be putting Ellie and Peyton’s needs before any business trips going forward. At least that was his plan. Peyton, it seemed, didn’t intend to change her life even though they were now married. So what had she been looking for in this marriage?

  “We’re going to have to coordinate our schedules carefully now that we’re married,” he conceded. “We can’t leave Ellie holding down the fort alone. But we’ll figure it out. I wanted to talk to you about having a live-in housekeeper anyway, once we find a new home.”

  “I guess I’d have to be okay with that, wouldn’t I?”

  “You mean you could get used to someone picking up after you, after all?” he teased.

  “Or we could all get used to pulling our weight around the house to help her out, right?”

  The tension that had built between them began to fade and a companionable silence took its place. After a while Galen got up and headed below deck. When he came back on top, he had snorkeling gear in his hands.

  “This is a beautiful bay for snorkeling. Have you tried it before?” he asked, passing her a mask, snorkel and pair of fins. “I think these should suit you. Let’s try them for fit.”

  “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “There’s nothing to it. All you need to remember when you go under water is that when you resurface you have to blow out hard to clear the pipe before you breathe in again. And if you don’t want to go under water, you can float along the surface and still see a lot.”

  “That sounds more like my style,” she said, trying the mask on for size. “How do I look?”

  “Like a mutant goldfish, but that seal around your face looks good.”

  He quickly showed her how to clear the mask if water seeped in and helped her put on her fins before doing the same himself. Then he showed her how to step off the transom at the back of the yacht and into the sea.

  Half an hour later they were back on board and Peyton was voluble in her delight.

  “Did you see that turtle? That was incredible!”

  He smiled indulgently. Yes, bit by bit he was starting to see the real Peyton Earnshaw. And the more natural and unforced she became, the more he wanted to know about her.

  * * *

  They were back at the marina tidying up the yacht when Galen’s cell phone began to chime. It brought home to Peyton exactly how long they’d been out alone together today. The earlier sexual tension had eased off—not completely, but certainly enough for her to be able to relax and enjoy the experience. There were definitely some benefits to being married to a man who appeared to have everything, she conceded to herself with a grin.

  “Peyton? It’s Ellie on the phone.”

  Suddenly, her sense of well-being was put on hold. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She wanted to know if she can sleep over with Caitlin. Seems they’re getting on like a house on fire. Caitlin’s mom and dad are cool with it.”

  “Well, it’s your call, isn’t it?”

  “We’re in this together,” he reminded her.

  “It’s okay by me,” Peyton said stiffly, uncomfortable to be included in what was obviously a very parental decision.

  Galen turned his attention back to the call, which lasted another two minutes. “Well, that’s one very happy little girl,” he said as he came below to collect the hamper and cooler.

  “I take it she isn’t usually a fan of sleepovers?”

  “Not recently, no. This break away from home has been good for her. It’s a relief to see her feel relaxed and trust that everything will be okay with us while she’s with Caitlin and her parents.”

  “I hated sleepovers as a kid.”

  Oh heavens, why had she blurted that out? Now he’d want to know why. Of course, that was the very next question out of his mouth. Peyton gathered her thoughts together before answering, deciding brief and honest was probably the best approach.

  “I guess, at the heart of it, I was always scared I’d get home and find out my mom had died and I wasn’t there.”

  The words hurt to say and she wished she’d never opened this can of worms.

  “That must have been hard.”

  “You get used to it. Your dad died, too. That can’t have been easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t, but I was in my teens, and while his death came as a shock, we didn’t have the fear of it constantly hanging over us. We probably should have, though. My grandfather and my uncle both died of the same congenital heart defect before him.”

  “Did he never get checked out?”

  “He always said he was too busy. Of course, Nagy made sure everyone in the family had a full medical workup after my father’s death. Only one of my cousins has inherited the same problem but it’s well managed now they’re aware of it.”

  “Must have been worrying, wondering if you all carried the same time bomb.”

  “It was, but Nagy took care of it—of all of us. As she does.”

  Peyton felt the customary bristle of anger when she heard him speak of his grandmother in glowing terms. But this was a natural opportunity to find out more about the woman who’d had such a devastating effect on her family.

  “She’s very much the matriarch, isn’t she? Does everyone obey her?”

  Galen laughed. “You say that as if she sits on a throne and dictates orders to us all.”

  “Well, doesn’t she? From what you say, she’s omnipotent.”

  His face took on a softer look. “No, she’s human, just like the rest of us. And she makes mistakes, with her own health, no less.”

  “So it’s a matter of do as I say, not as I do?”

  “Kind of like that. You probably heard she had a serious heart attack a few months ago. We’re all so grateful that Valentin was there when it happened. He did CPR until an ambulance could get there. She’s been different since. As if she thinks she’s living on borrowed time but she still has so much to complete before her time is up. There’s a weird urgency about her. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

  “I guess a near-death experience will change a person.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  They went up on deck. Galen locked the cabin door behind them before they left the yacht and headed back to the car. Peyton rued the fact she’d lost her opportunity to keep the conversation on Galen’s relationship with his grandmother but filed away the snippets he’d already disclosed.

  Once they got back to the beach house, she showered and changed, then typed up her notes from the conversation. When she was finished, she walked out onto the patio.

  Through the open doors she could h
ear Galen on a call, so she settled on a sun lounger in the shade and let the beauty of the day and her surroundings lull her into sleep. She was surprised to see how low the sun was when she woke to the sound of the tinkle of ice cubes in a pitcher being put on the table in front of her.

  “That had better be margaritas,” she said sleepily.

  “How did you know?” Galen asked, putting two chilled, salt-rimmed glasses down on the table beside the pitcher.

  “Because that’s just what I feel like. After a big glass of water, anyway.”

  “Then it’s just as well that’s what I made. Predinner cocktails. Did you have a good sleep?”

  “I can’t believe I slept that long. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  He shrugged with a casual elegance. “You looked like you needed it. A day on the water can be tiring.”

  “I bet you didn’t sleep.”

  Again, that shrug. He poured the drinks, handed her a glass and held his toward her in a toast. “Here’s to more days like today.”

  She clinked her glass to his. “Indeed.”

  Then she remembered the kiss. Did he mean all of today? She met his gaze as she took a sip of the perfectly blended cocktail. Oh yes, he totally did.

  Suddenly, this whole marriage thing felt too complicated. She honestly hadn’t thought this through. She’d imagined that she’d cruise through the first three months without worrying about fighting off a growing physical attraction or having to ignore the magnetism that steadily grew stronger between them, and she’d write her article then extract herself as neatly as she’d gotten into it.

  He was a Horvath. A direct descendant of the person who’d upended everything that was safe and secure in Peyton’s world and set her up for hardship. Yes, she’d clawed her way beyond that hardship now, but it had been a hard road and full of sacrifice.

  For the briefest moment she allowed herself to think of the beautiful baby girl she’d had to give up and felt the all-too-familiar pain those thoughts always brought. That was what she needed to keep front and center in her mind. Pain. Loss. Disappointment. It was the only defense she had against the almost overwhelming enticement that was Galen Horvath.

  Nine

  It was a good thing they would be heading home in two days, Peyton thought as they finished their dinner on the patio. It was far too easy to be seduced by the stunning beauty of both this place and the man sitting opposite her.

  The meal he’d prepared for the two of them while she’d been sleeping was perfection. The shrimp kebab appetizer had been mouthwatering, and the baked fish he’d served with a Greek salad as their main course had been outstanding.

  “Do you feel like dessert? Leilani left a mango cheesecake in the refrigerator.”

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t fit in another bite,” Peyton protested. “In fact, I may never need to eat again. That was truly amazing. I had no idea you could cook.”

  “One of my hidden talents. To be honest, as a bachelor, I learned to cook food I enjoyed a long time ago. Now cooking is more of a way to relax for me than a necessity.”

  She narrowed her eyes a little. “And you needed more relaxation after today?”

  He laughed and she felt her lower belly tighten. It didn’t matter how many times she heard the sound; his laughter always had this effect on her.

  “You can never have too much relaxation. How about a nice slow stroll on the beach?” he asked, holding out his hand to her as he stood up from the table.

  She accepted his hand and let him help her up, expecting him to let go as they started on the path down to the beach. But he kept her hand clasped lightly in his and, despite her earlier reminders to herself to keep her distance, she liked it. The waves murmured softly against the sand as they strolled along the beach. The night was so perfect. It was a shame everything about being here was fake, she told herself, trying desperately not to fall under its spell.

  But it was impossible not to, especially when Galen stopped and dropped to the sand, tugging her down with him so she was cradled between his legs and leaning against his strong chest and tight stomach. She tried not to relax, to keep herself ever so slightly apart from him, but she failed miserably. The lure of his warm body against her back—the feeling of being sheltered, protected—it was all too much. Galen traced his fingers along her arm, sending a rash of goose bumps along her skin.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “No.”

  She was anything but cold. In fact, his every touch heated her blood more and more. To distract herself she tried to dig more information out of him about his family.

  “Tell me about growing up,” she asked. “Were you a little beach boy?”

  “I’ve always been drawn to the water, that’s true. Growing up was, well, fun. As a kid we didn’t know what trouble was unless we broke a window or talked back to an adult.”

  “Sounds idyllic.”

  “Isn’t that what childhood is supposed to be? Free of adult worries? How about you? You’ve mentioned a few dark spots, but surely it wasn’t all bad?”

  Had it all been bad? Not if she was honest. Before her mom got ill, and her father was disgraced, their life had been so very different. She searched her past, latching on to one particular memory that had brought her incredible joy.

  “My happiest memory of my childhood was the day my dad brought home a puppy,” she said softly.

  “That sounds like it would have been a very happy memory. What was the puppy like?”

  “He was a mutt, medium sized and very boisterous. I loved him so much.”

  “And?” Galen coaxed her a little more.

  “And when my mom got sick and my dad lost his job, we had to move and surrender him to a local shelter. We couldn’t afford to keep him anymore.”

  And just like that, the rift in her heart opened up again. She’d suppressed memories of Bingo and the part he’d played in her life. When her mom had gotten sick, Bingo had been her confidant. Listening faithfully as she poured out her worries, letting her cry into his springy fur when it all got too much.

  “That was rough,” Galen sympathized, pressing a kiss on her head.

  “I got over it. At least I knew at the no-kill shelter my mom insisted on, he’d be rehomed, and he was such a lovely dog. He didn’t stay there long.”

  But it was yet another loss she could lay at Alice Horvath’s door, Peyton reminded herself. Yet another reason to expose exactly how far Alice’s cruelties extended.

  The breeze picked up, blowing strands of hair onto Peyton’s face. Galen brushed them behind her ear. His touch was a sizzle of electricity across her skin. Peyton didn’t want to talk anymore. Right now she wanted to forget the memories that had reopened old wounds and lose herself in the man who was here with her. She shifted slightly so she faced Galen. His eyes locked with hers as she lifted her hand to cup his cheek. And then she leaned forward to kiss him.

  The shock of touching his lips with hers, of taking charge and of giving in, shot through her like a bolt from above. Soon, both her hands were locked behind his head as she kissed and nibbled at his lips. He kissed her back. Hot, wet and everything she needed to obliterate her painful past and live in the moment.

  Somehow, they ended up lying on the sand, his body half over hers. She pressed her hips up, grinding against him and earning a groan from deep in his throat in response. He was rock-hard, his body straining toward hers, but even though he so clearly wanted her, he didn’t press home the advantage. Instead, he held himself away from her slightly. Leaning on one elbow, he stroked her with his free hand, slowly moving the fabric of her skirt up over her thighs.

  She shivered at his touch, wanting more. Wanting him. She’d been fighting this attraction from the moment she first saw him, but right now she was incapable of pushing him away.

  His fingers softly caressed her inner thighs and she moaned, her hips
involuntarily pushing upward again. Her hands still clasped his head, and his mouth was still on hers, their kisses long and drugging, sending a sensual spiral through her brain. She felt his fingers trace the edge of her panties and the hollowed curve at her groin. It was one of her most sensitive places and she moaned again, her body tensing for that moment when he’d move aside the fabric and touch that part of her that ached for his possession.

  Galen shifted slightly, taking his lips from hers and kissing a line along her jaw, then down her throat and across her collarbone. Her body went liquid as he continued his sensual assault; her skin was ultrasensitive, her mind focused on the pleasure he drew from her. She lifted her hips again, silently urging him to touch her where she most needed, her hands moving to stroke the back of his neck, his shoulders, down his back.

  Beneath her fingertips she felt the corded muscles of his body, their tension a mark of his restraint as he touched and kissed her—his focus purely on her pleasure alone. And then his hand moved to her mound, cupping her through the lace, his finger pressing unerringly on her clitoris and sending a piercing pleasure through her. She felt herself grow wet with need.

  A particularly large wave suddenly crashed onto the beach, the sound roaring through her consciousness and reminding her of where they were. Of what they were doing. She stiffened, pulling away immediately.

  “What is it?” Galen asked, his voice husky with desire.

  “We can’t do this,” Peyton said abruptly and shoved him away for good measure.

  “Okay,” he answered carefully. “Shall we go back to the house?”

  “I don’t know about you but I’m going back.”

  Peyton scrambled to her feet and began to stride as fast as she could down the beach, dusting the sand off her as she went. How could she have been so stupid as to give in to her personal needs? This whole exercise was not about her. She couldn’t afford to indulge in her desires. She was here to collect information.

  But even as she worked her way through the soft whispering sand and to the path that led to their holiday house, her subconscious was urging her to stop and look back. To see if Galen followed her. To turn back to him and continue what they’d started. She shut down the treacherous thoughts before they could take a firm hold and bloom into something she knew she’d regret.

 

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