“This, you mean?”
He slid one finger inside her and stroked her deeply—feeling her body clench against him.
Her voice shook when she spoke. “Something like that, yes. But I think you can do better.”
“She wants better?” he murmured. “Then her wish is my command.”
He positioned himself behind her and guided the swollen head of his penis to her, pressing himself gently until he was only just inside the entrance to her body. He forced himself to hold back, his hands now resting on the curves of her hips. Her inner muscles tightened around him, driving a groan from him and sending a bolt of pleasure rocketing from his tip through his entire body.
“Galen, please. Don’t tease me, not about this, not anymore. I want you deep inside me. I need you.”
It was those last three words that proved his undoing. He threw restraint to the wind and allowed his body to surge within hers. Peyton’s hands tightened into fists on the dressing table as he filled her. A gasp of pleasure escaped her. She pressed against him and the sensation of her buttocks against his groin made him move again, and again, until all he could think about was the pleasure filling his body, filling hers. On the brink of letting go, he paused and reached for her, his fingers deftly finding her pleasure spot and massaging her right there. It took the lightest touch to set her off and he felt every paroxysm of pleasure as it swelled through her body and he gave himself up to his own release.
They were both shaking when he finally withdrew from her moments later. She rose and turned to face him, her arms sliding around his waist. The skin-to-skin contact, their racing hearts and the perspiration of their bodies gleaming in the light of the room seemed like the perfect denouement to their joining.
“C’mon,” he whispered against her hair. “Let’s go to bed.”
Shortly afterward they were cuddled up in bed together, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder and his arm around her body, his hand absently stroking her silky skin. Galen flipped the master switch that plunged the room into darkness and was beginning to slide into sleep when she spoke.
“Galen?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“I think you should brush my hair more often.”
He smiled and pulled her even tighter to him, his heart filling with the words he suddenly wished he could say. He loved her. The realization hit him with a solid thump to his solar plexus as he turned the thought around and around in his head. He loved her. But did that mean anything if she didn’t love him in return?
* * *
She couldn’t concentrate because her treacherous mind kept spinning back to the way Galen had made love to her last night. And it had been lovemaking, not just sex. There’d been something about the way he’d touched her, the way he’d lavished attention on her, that had been more than what they’d done together before. The knowledge both thrilled and terrified her. She’d barely dared consider that she could let another person get this close to her. She could feel herself wanting to let him inside every part of her, not just her body but her mind, as well, so they could truly be one together. But she couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t what she’d set herself up to do and she’d learned a long time ago that deviation from her chosen path only led to heartbreak and disappointment.
Peyton saved her document again and stared blindly at the computer screen. This feature was no less aggressive than anything else she’d done. Oh sure, as Alice had so adroitly pointed out yesterday, it wasn’t about anything as topical as an environmental or political issue, nor did it tread along the battlefields of far-flung places. But it did reflect the battlefield of her childhood, and the woman who’d single-handedly ensured that Peyton’s life would never be the same again from the moment she’d fired her dad.
She thought for a moment of the bitter man he still was today. Of the blame and anger that had become his constant refrain, which had, in turn, pushed away anyone who’d tried to love or care for him, including Peyton. How different her life would have been had Alice Horvath not destroyed the very fabric of her family. Peyton sighed and rested her hands back on the keyboard. She had to somehow remove personal bias from this profile of the Horvath matriarch. Let the facts speak for themselves.
She printed out the document and rose from her chair, pacing her office as the papers began to stack up in the printer tray. Once the article was printed, she grabbed one of her favorite red pens for editing and the bunch of papers and went downstairs onto the deck.
She hadn’t been editing for long when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Ellie’s school. She put down her pen and answered the call.
“Ms. Earnshaw, I’m sorry to bother you. I did try to get hold of Mr. Horvath but he’s apparently in a meeting.”
“Not a problem. Is it Ellie? Is something wrong?”
“She appears to have an upset stomach. We feel it best if she went home for the rest of today.”
“No problem. I’ll be right there.”
Peyton disconnected the call, shoved her phone in her jeans pocket and reached for the stack of papers she had on the table in front of her. Just then, a massive gust of wind caught the papers and ruffled them across the table and the deck. Peyton frantically picked them up, counting them to ensure she had them all. Yes, every last one accounted for. She closed the glass sliding door behind her as she raced to the breakfast room, where she’d left her bag and car keys yesterday, and shoved the papers in her bag before shooting through to the garage, getting her car out and heading toward the school.
Ellie was very definitely the worse for wear when she got there, tearful and pale with a sickly cast to her skin that made Peyton glad she always carried a spare towel or two in her car.
“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get home and into bed,” she said, putting an arm around Ellie and picking up her schoolbag.
Ellie fell asleep in the car on the way home, a sign she definitely wasn’t feeling well because she was usually full of energy and chatter right up until bedtime. Peyton felt her heart tug in sympathy for the child. As she drove down the driveway to the house, she saw Galen’s car up ahead outside the garage. She hadn’t expected him home this early and thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t left the unproofed article lying anywhere.
She parked, hooked her bag over her arm and went around the car to open Ellie’s door. The poor kid was still out cold and Peyton didn’t want to wake her. There was nothing else to do but to carry her inside. She unhooked Ellie’s seat belt and lifted the little girl into her arms. She was heavier than she looked, Peyton realized as she made her way to the door.
To her relief, the door swung open the moment she approached.
“I got a message from the school,” Galen said, stepping forward. “I called back, but they said you’d just left with her, so I came here instead to wait for you both. Is she okay?”
“Probably just a tummy bug,” Peyton said. “She doesn’t seem to have a fever.”
“Can I take her for you?”
“I think I can manage, but maybe you could take my bag before I drop it?”
The minute the words were out of her mouth she regretted the suggestion. She hadn’t zipped her tote shut in her hurry and her article was jammed right there at the top, in full view of anyone.
“Just leave it here in the foyer. I’ll grab it later,” she said quickly as Galen reached to slide it off the crook of her elbow.
At that moment Ellie stirred in her arms and groaned. “I’m going to be sick!”
Peyton rushed toward the guest bathroom, thankfully only a few steps away. Galen dropped her bag to the floor and followed in hot pursuit.
So this was parenting, Peyton thought as she brushed her hand over the exhausted little girl’s forehead after they’d changed her into pajamas and settled her in her bedroom.
“Will you stay with me?�
� Ellie asked weakly.
“Sure.”
Galen hovered at the end of Ellie’s bed, watching the little girl with a worried expression on his face. “Would you like me to stay, too?”
“I want Peyton,” Ellie grumbled listlessly.
“I’m right here,” Peyton said. “I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep, okay?”
Ellie nodded. Galen moved away from the bed.
“It seems I’m not needed,” he murmured.
“For now.”
“You’ll be okay?”
Peyton looked at Ellie, whose eyes were already drooping closed. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. I’ll just stay with her a while until she’s fast asleep again.”
Galen put a hand on her shoulder and she instantly felt the warmth of his fingers through her thin shirt.
“You’re good with her, y’know?”
“Thanks,” she managed through a throat that was a little choked up. She’d never had the chance to soothe her own baby’s tears or illnesses.
As Galen left the room, Peyton turned her gaze back to the little girl in the bed. She looked so very small right now, so helpless. Peyton was swamped with emotion. Was this what parenthood was like? This overwhelming fear that something could go wrong at any time and snatch your precious child away combined with a love that constantly grew and evolved as the child did? She’d given away her chance at experiencing all of this and hadn’t allowed herself to ever grow close enough to another person to risk having to face doing such a thing again.
Peyton reached out a hand to gently brush Ellie’s brow, telling herself she was just checking for fever. She didn’t want to love this little girl and yet the thought of leaving had begun to fill her with dread.
But she couldn’t turn back. She’d set her path. The words Alice had spoken the other day came back to ring in her ears—be careful where you tread—and sent a shiver down her spine.
Sixteen
Galen changed out of his suit, took a quick shower and put on jeans and a T-shirt before heading downstairs again. He felt conflicted. For several months it had just been him and the kiddo, and he’d liked that. But, he reminded himself, getting married was something he’d chosen to do so that Ellie would always have someone to fall back on in those times when he couldn’t be there. Times like today.
When he got downstairs he saw Peyton’s bag where he’d dropped it. He’d teased her about being Mary Poppins the first time he’d seen the size of the thing. Smiling at the memory, he went over to pick it up but, as he did so, a sheaf of papers spilled from inside onto the tiled floor. He gathered the papers up and was about to shove them back in her bag when a name caught his eye. Alice Horvath.
Was this the article she was so busy working on lately? Peyton had refused to discuss it with him and he knew, out of respect for her, he should put the papers back in her bag and forget about them. But the mention of his grandmother had piqued his interest. Galen went into the sitting room, sat down on a couch, telling himself he was just going to skim but the content forced him to read them in earnest. His temper rose as he realized that the article was very specifically about his grandmother and it wasn’t flattering. Galen put the papers very carefully back in Peyton’s bag and fought the urge to thunder up the stairs and demand she explain what the hell she was up to.
He got up and went outside. Staring into the distance, he wondered what had driven Peyton to write such a piece. He knew his grandmother had to have made some enemies along the way; a person didn’t carve out the success she had without making a few. But this article had taken a very dark look at Nagy’s business practices, even drawing into question her methods for matchmaking with Match Made in Marriage.
The sense of betrayal he felt ballooned as he considered how Peyton had been welcomed with open arms into the family. It was all the worse for the fact that he now knew he’d fallen in love with her, prickly nature and all. There had to be a very specific motivation behind Peyton’s actions and he needed to work out what that was and stop her from sending this piece out. Given Nagy’s heart surgery and her age, he was prepared to do anything to protect her and knew the rest of the family would close ranks around her, too. But he couldn’t alert any of them to this yet—if he did, they’d shun Peyton immediately. And if he could turn Peyton around to see the Nagy he, his family and most of her employees loved devotedly, then there’d be no damage done. First, however, he needed to understand why she’d done this.
He had no idea how long he had to investigate his wife, but he knew he had to act swiftly. Galen went into the office he kept downstairs, fired up his laptop and did a basic search on Peyton. Very little came up under her maiden name aside from her publishing accolades. It made him suspicious that there was no mention of her prior to her career as a journalist. Normally, there was something, somewhere, about people. A sporting achievement, an award given while at college. But it was as if she’d popped into the world fully formed and hard at work from the age of about twenty-one. Which probably meant she had legally changed her name at some point.
There was one person who likely had the information he sought. The very person he was trying to protect in all this—Alice. But how on earth would he get it out of her? She guarded the information surrounding the people involved in her matches zealously—and would continue to do so even knowing she was under attack. He shook his head. Somehow, he had to find a way that didn’t involve his grandmother.
* * *
It took several days before the investigator he’d engaged got back to him. What he read was disturbing. It seemed that on graduating college, Peyton had assumed her mother’s maiden name. He could understand why. From what the investigator had uncovered, Peyton’s family life, if it could be called that, had been grossly dysfunctional. He could understand why anyone would want to turn their back on that. But even though she’d changed her name, and for all intents and purposes appeared to have little to no contact with her father, she still supported the man financially. As if she was trying to make up for something when, as far as Galen could see, she had nothing to make up for. In fact, she’d been very much the victim.
And no wonder she’d had such empathy for Ellie. She’d been a similar age when her mom had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and her mother’s downturn in health had been unexpectedly rapid, exacerbated, no doubt, by the fact they had no medical insurance once Peyton’s dad had been fired from Horvath Corporation. That little snippet had come as a surprise.
Learning that Peyton’s father had been the chief financial officer at Horvath Corporation but had been let go on suspicion of embezzlement had shocked him. The evidence against the man had been damning; in fact, Alice would have had every right to have pressed criminal charges against him. But given the man’s situation at home, Galen had no doubt his grandmother had chosen the high road. Getting rid of Magnus Maitland had been her only choice.
The PI had done a little background search on Maitland, discovering that he’d held a raft of short-term positions over the years since his dismissal. Not one of them had approached the salary he’d earned at Horvath Corporation, which must have been galling to a man with his qualifications, let alone worrying financially. It seemed that his wife’s illness had eaten up every penny of savings they’d had, but there was strong evidence that they’d lived well outside their means while he was at Horvath Corporation, which had only made matters worse for them when he was fired.
Galen shook his head. Poor Peyton. She hadn’t stood a chance with her father’s white-collar crime, her mother’s illness, being torn away from the home she’d grown up in and moving out of state. And then, to cap it off, to have had a brief and obviously intense relationship with a young man on the brink of deployment and to find herself pregnant and alone after his death. Was it any wonder she’d developed a hard shell of distrust and caution?
But to have written this article the way she had? That spo
ke to a level of planning years in the making. And had she somehow manipulated their marriage match? The idea was outrageous and yet made perfect sense. Was it possible that his grandmother had been tricked by someone with access to the Match Made in Marriage systems? Had Peyton married him purely to get better access to information about his grandmother?
And after she released her article to the world, what then? Did she plan to simply up and leave him and Ellie? Did she not care for either of them one bit?
He thought about the woman who’d spent the night sleeping in a chair beside Ellie’s bed after the tummy bug incident. That didn’t match up with the woman who’d written the vile piece of journalism he’d read the other day. But the woman who’d written that article was well capable of doing the things he suspected. Of manipulating and using others to her advantage. And right now Galen was feeling very used.
There was only one thing for it. He had to confront her.
* * *
Galen had been distant these past few days and Peyton couldn’t help feeling she was responsible for that, somehow. Even tonight, his office door remained firmly shut, and when Ellie went to tell him their dinner was ready, he’d asked her to tell Peyton to leave his plate covered and he’d get to it later. It was only after Ellie had retired for the night that she dared knock on his door and beard the lion in his den, so to speak.
“What?” he said, looking up.
He’d been running his hands through his hair, which stuck out every which way in complete contrast to the smooth executive who’d left the house this morning. Peyton gave him a smile.
“Is everything okay? You sound distracted.”
“No, everything is not okay. Take a seat. We need to talk.”
Vengeful Vows (Marriage At First Sight Book 3) Page 13
