An Irresistible Impulse (19 page)

“Is this for your book?” she asked brightly.

“No. My classes.” End of conversation. He walked to the door and turned toward his study. “Can you find everything you need?” he asked, pausing on the threshold without turning back.

She could barely hide her disappointment. Not only did he not want to discuss his work, but he was apparently bent on doing it, wedding night or no. “Yes. I can manage.”

He nodded, patted the doorjamb once and left. Abby stared at the empty doorway. He was running. Still running. He simply didn’t want to be involved.
Why then had he married her?

As many times as she asked herself the question, she came up empty-handed. Without
a doubt, she was exhausted. Taking his suggestion, she showered and climbed into bed.

His bed…as large as that they’d shared at the inn, but infinitely more lonely without Ben. The ache of loving him was no proper company. She wanted
him
. Even now, lying alone in his bed, her body began to tingle at the thought of his lean, muscular body. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through his tawny hair and hold his head close for her kiss. She wanted nothing more than to mold her hands to his shoulders, then his hips.

This was her wedding night…and it was as bizarre as the entire affair had been. Had she made the right decision in marrying Ben? Had she made
any
decision…or had she simply acted on impulse?

Tossing to her right, she studied the wall, the window, the artwork. Tossing to her left, she studied the expanse of built-in closets and drawers. Settling onto her back, she studied the high stucco ceiling.

Frustrated, she threw the covers back and padded barefoot to the door, then down the hall to the study. “Ben?” He sat at his desk, his brow furrowed, his fists clenched one inside the other. “Ben?” He looked up in alarm, his features taut. “Why don’t you come to bed,” she urged him gently.

He stared at her as though she were an im-poster, and she wished only that she’d stayed in bed. It hurt so when he looked at her in that angry, almost condemning way. Was it her fault that she’d fallen in love with him?

Her bewilderment must have gotten through to him, for he softened suddenly and stood, walking around the desk, entranced in a new way. When he finally stood before her, he lowered his gaze in slow appreciation of the woman who was now his wife.

Abby stood proudly, her heart hammering in her chest, while he took in the slenderness of her neck and the shapeliness of her shoulders. Then his eyes touched the top lace of her nightgown and slid lower to the firm outline of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the gentle curve of her hips.

It was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling, his heat had hit her that quickly. She’d always want him this way, she knew…then she also knew something else. If her body was the strongest lure she had, she’d use it for everything it was worth.

Without taking her eyes from his face, she reached up and slowly slid the thin straps of silk from her shoulders. Pulse racing, she eased her arms from them and let the fabric fall to her waist. Then, swallowing once, she shimmied the gown over her hips and let it fall to the floor.

Naked now, she waited for Ben to react. His breathing had grown more ragged, his gaze more hungry. But he didn’t move.

When she could take the suspense no longer, she covered the inches between them, put her hands palm down on his chest, then slid them seductively toward his neck.

“I need you, Ben. I need you now. Please…come to bed with me.”

For a final second he fought his desire. Then, with a low groan, he took her in his arms, lifted her and headed for the bedroom. No words passed between them when he laid her down, nor when he quickly shed his clothes. He murmured her name once before he kissed her…then words were unnecessary. Soft caresses and tender strokings yielded to more frenzied movements. At the apex of their passion they clung fiercely to one another…until their ecstasy became memory and they slid slowly, reluctantly back to earth.

Then the events of the day took their toll. Within minutes they slept. When Abby awoke in the morning, she was alone.

But the next morning found him back off to the campus with no more than a clipped goodbye. Her only solace was the fact that, in a fit of frustration the morning before, she’d called and arranged to take over her own class again.

It was a brief respite from her torment. For she spent Saturday afternoon, then Sunday at home with Ben. He worked constantly in his study; she busied herself calling friends and writing notes. Only at night did he open to her like the man with whom she’d fallen so deeply in love.

In spite of her every attempt to alter it, a pattern emerged. During the day Ben was tense and distant, hardly concerned with what she did, going about his own life as he must have done before their marriage. At
night he never failed to come to her, giving, if only in passing, the warmth she so badly craved.

The days were torture, the evenings bliss. Even Abby’s return to work on Monday seemed to complicate things. For everyone wanted to know about Ben. Who was he? What did he look like? Had she
really
met him on the jury? Just when had they fallen in love?

It seemed unanimous. Abby’s marriage to Ben had to be the most breathtakingly romantic event the county had seen in years. It was the talk of the office, not to mention her neighborhood. Even Sean rose to the occasion and joined in a spontaneous luncheon celebration for the new bride.

As for the bride herself, she simply smiled and nodded, accepting good wishes and congratulations as enthusiastically as she could. But the effort to conceal her anguish took its toll as the week went on, leaving her on edge more often than not.

Her mind was constantly on Ben and the gamut of questions she’d been asking herself for days. She grew dizzy wondering whether she’d been right in marrying him, whether she could ever make him happy, whether she could ever make him love her. It seemed the only pleasure they found was in those dark hours when all thought was suspended and pure passion ruled their lives.

Wyeth’s Law…it had been amusing at one point. Now it gnawed at her endlessly. Logic versus need, reason versus impulse. On the one hand was the fact that Ben refused to love her, on the other the fact that they came alive in each other’s arms each night. More and more, she yearned to love him freely. More and more, she yearned for his love.

“Remember what I said before, Abby. You’ve got to break the rules every once in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said gently, “that you may have to
do
something. You’re letting things fall into a routine that may kill your marriage if it doesn’t kill you first. You look awful!”

“But what can I do? I’m afraid to say anything for fear of making things worse. As it is, he seems so angry at times. Maybe I’m just all wrong for him!”

“Abby, you couldn’t be all wrong for anyone!
And as for Ben, you’ll just have to find a way to break through that wall of his. But don’t wait too long…for your own sake. Please?”

But whereas Patsy might have done something that very same day, Abby was paralyzed. She loved Ben, she wanted him. The thought of confronting him tore at her mercilessly. Perhaps if she let it go another day, or two, or three, things might improve.

They didn’t. Come Friday morning when Ben calmly packed his bags and announced that he’d be gone that night to a conference in New York, she knew she had to do something. They’d been married for two weeks. He might have easily taken her with him, had he wanted her company. But aside from their sharing a blind, nightly passion, they were virtual strangers. She simply couldn’t endure that kind of relationship.

She spent hours on the note, writing and rewriting, choosing her words as though her life depended on it…which it did. For Ben
was
her life. Leaving him was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.

“The last five weeks have been unreal for me…with first the trial, then our marriage. Things have happened too quickly. I need time to take it all in.

“I’ve gone to spend the weekend in my own place. Maybe there, where things are old and familiar, I can make some sense out of my life…out of our lives.

“I only know one thing…how much I love you. I have for a long time now…but
then, you knew that, too, didn’t you? I try to understand that you were hurt once, that you didn’t want love
or
marriage again. But it’s been harder and harder for me to remember that, when I need you so badly myself.

“The past week has been an agony for me…worrying every minute that I’ll do or say something to anger you. I fell in love with a man who was bright and fun-loving, whose sense of humor could ease me over any tough situation. Where is he now, Ben? Is he
that
unhappy?

“Maybe you need time, too…to decide whether you made a mistake in marrying me. We rushed. It was an impulsive thing to do. But then, we’ve been doing impulsive things for weeks.

“I want to make you happy, just as I want to
be
happy. If the past two weeks have been any indication though, I’m not sure that’s possible. At some point we have to stop and
reasonably
consider what we’ve done. That’s what I’m going to try to do now.

“I do love you. Please remember that.” She’d signed it simply, “Abby.”

Distracted, she weeded through the summer clothes she’d left behind. Some went in a pile to discard. Others went directly into the wash. Then she attacked closets that had been neglected for months, kitchen cabinets, basement shelves. She worked Saturday night until she was worn out, then changed her clothes, strapped on her portable cassette player, and forced herself out to run.

She’d purposely avoided the light of day when neighbors might see her and ask her to stop. The last thing she wanted was conversation. It was hard enough coping with the well-intended enthusiasm she found daily at the medical center. But here…she needed solitude.

The night respected her privacy, asking no questions, offering no advice. She ran hard and thought hard, pushing herself to the limit. By the time she returned to the house though, she was nowhere near knowing what to do about the unhappy situation she’d made for herself. Ben
must
have already found her note….

Fortunately she was too exhausted to do anything but strip, shower, and tumble into bed. It was at four in the morning, when she awoke wide-eyed once more, that the tears came.

He hadn’t even called. Surely he was home…but he hadn’t even called! Her note had been explicit as to her destination, and still he hadn’t called!

The hours passed slowly. Dawn came. She dozed between bouts of crying and remorse. She should have stayed. Being with him under
any
conditions would be better than…
this!
But no…she’d been miserable the other way. Something
had
to be done. If only she could be sure she’d done the right thing!

Sunday morning…noon…mid-afternoon…nothing. No call on Ben’s part, no miraculous brainstorm on hers. She felt every bit as distraught as she had at the end of the trial, when she’d thought for sure that her relationship with Ben was over. Was it now? Had it been inevitable all along?

Thinking back to past discussions, she wondered how she’d been so blind. There had been that time, at the very start, when they’d bandied about the merits of her marrying Sean. Ben had asked whether love was necessary, whether security, kids, sex mightn’t be enough. Evidently, for him, it was.

Then later, when they’d talked of Alexandra,
he’d been vehemently against remarrying. Why
had
he? Perhaps they’d have been better off had he stuck to his guns.

Time crept with agonizing slowness. The longer the phone remained silent, the more despondent Abby grew. By the time the late afternoon shadows had faded to dusk, she saw it all clearly. She’d behaved impulsively…and now suffered for it. She’d shut her eyes to reality…and now paid the price. Buried in a world of his own, Benjamin Wyeth was simply not available…not for steady companionship, not for marriage, not for loving.

Suddenly uncaring of who saw her, she threw on her running suit, grabbed her cassette player, and took off. It was no different, she told herself, from any other day she’d run—even in spite of the gold band that gleamed on her finger and the tears that spiked her lashes. It was no different, no different at all. She still had her house, her friends, her job. She’d just have to adjust to the idea that she couldn’t have Ben.

Unwilling to listen any longer to her thoughts, she fit the headset more snugly over her ears and turned up the volume of the recorder. Down one long street then right onto another, she barely saw what she passed. If a six-minute mile was her usual, she did well below that now, pounding the
pavement with a steady slap of rubber that spoke loudly of her anguish.

Her vision blurred. She ran on. It was that twilight time, not day, not night, an eerie time…but she was too preoccupied to notice. Only when her back began to ache did she pause, and then for just a minute before resuming the pace. More than anything she sought utter oblivion.

When a car swerved to the curb just ahead of her, she barely saw it. When Ben stepped directly into her path, though, she couldn’t miss him. Nor could she miss his anger…and that was
before
he tore the headset from her ears.

“Come on, Abby,” he growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the car. “Get in.”

But Abby was filled with an anger of her own. Ben had been the one to propose their marriage, even knowing that he wouldn’t give her what she needed. It had been all
his
fault!

“Let go of me,” she struggled. “I’m running.”

“You’ve been running for the last hour while I’ve been sitting back at your house half out of my mind with worry.” His eyes had a bleak look that even dusk couldn’t hide. “Now get in the car.”

She tried to free her arm but he held it tighter. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“You’re my wife,” he growled as he clamped his other arm around her waist and propelled her toward his open door. “You’ll come.” A car approached from behind and passed without so much as a pause, its driver apparently assuming the quarrel to be a domestic one…which it was. Ben’s point was made. Abby
was
his wife. She owed it to him—and herself—to see what he had to say.

At his gruff urging, she ducked into the car and slid behind the steering wheel to the passenger’s side. Then she jammed her fist against her lips and stared out the window while Ben sped off. Thoroughly vexed, she paid no heed to the road, assuming that he’d take her back to her house to clean up. She was tired and sweaty, her hair a tangled mess. When the car turned from the main road and started up a familiar path, she straightened. Then, when the inn came into sight, her gaze flew to Ben.

“What are we doing here?”

He didn’t answer until he’d swung the car around and parked. “It’s time we got a few things straightened out…and what better place than the scene of the crime?”

“Not funny,” she declared but was relieved at least that his tone had softened.
“But I can’t go in there looking like this. It’s not seven in the morning, and from the looks of these other cars the place must be filled with guests.”

“You’ll do.” He was out the door and on his way to get her.

With a quick tug at her own door, Abby climbed out of the car. She didn’t want his help. Ben took her arm nonetheless.

“I won’t run away,” she snapped.

“You did once.”

“And what do you think
you’ve
been doing?”

Halfway up the path now, he looked down at her. “That’s one of the things we’ve got to discuss.”

She had to be satisfied with his word, for he offered nothing more. They passed through the door and crossed the lobby to the main desk, where Ben simply held out his hand to the clerk, took the key he was given, and guided Abby up the stairs. One flight, then the second, then down the hall to the room that had been his for the length of the trial, the room in which they’d spent such joyful, passion-filled nights.

With the closing of the door, they were alone. Again. Still. Abby moved to the window, where she stood in an attitude of defeat.

“You planned this perfectly. Same room. Key waiting.”

He shrugged. “All it took was a phone call. The room happened to be free.”

In the light for the first time, she saw how tired he was. Even his stance had none of its usual zip. She ached to reach out, to breach that invisible barrier and soothe him. “How did…things go in New York?”

“Okay.”

“When did you get back?”

“Last night.”

No call then; terse answers now. Her sympathy could only go so far, when she was in such need herself. He’d abducted her and brought her here. Let
him
talk.

It seemed forever that they stared at one another, silently, warily. But the time couldn’t have better served Ben’s purpose had he planned it. For against her will Abby’s anger slowly faded, fallen victim to the one emotion that ruled her heart. It would take far more than a few days’ separation, far more than bouts of anger and frustration to change the fact that she loved Ben deeply.

“I missed you, Abby.” His voice was low, raw. She wanted to crumble but held her stance determinedly. “I thought of you the entire time…then to come home and find you’d gone…”

Oh, yes, there was pain in his eyes. Was that his pain—or her own—that scissored through her? Was there a difference?

As if not knowing what else to do, he dug both hands into the pockets of his slacks and took a step forward. Then he sighed, yanked one hand out again and raked it through his hair. Abby hadn’t moved.

“You know what your problem is?” he asked. Startled, she shook her head. He went quickly on. “You’re too kind and loving a person. You don’t push me. And I take advantage of that.”

It was beginning to sound ominously like a farewell speech. Abby felt her insides begin to twist uncomfortably. But he was right. One part of her knew it. And it wouldn’t help to make things easier for him now. She wrapped her arms around her middle and bit her lip to keep from speaking out.

Ben walked to the dresser, then turned. “From the start, I knew you’d be trouble for me. I felt too strongly about you, even back then. But I couldn’t stay away. I tried to treat you like any of the other women I’ve known over the years…but you’re just not casual affair material.”

His gaze fell to the bed in remembrance, then lowered to the floor as he struggled to express himself. He frowned, winced, then finally looked up. “You were right…what you said in your letter, Abby. I was hurt once. When Lynn died. I never wanted to live through that kind of pain again. It seemed
safest not to get involved…. Then you came along and I
was
involved. But being frightened, I couldn’t accept it. So I tried to keep you at arm’s length.”

Slowly he moved closer and she caught her breath. His eyes held hers now and were as clear a silver as she’d ever seen. “There was only one problem, one little kink in my plan.” His voice lowered to a smooth, caressing tone. “I’d fallen in love with you somewhere along the way. Keeping you at arm’s length was pure hell.”

Abby’s heart skipped a beat. “I know,” she whispered.

“You did, didn’t you.” His shoulders straightened, and he seemed just that bit less tired. More like himself…with a definite hint of vibrancy.

In response, she felt her blood warm and, without the need to protect herself, let her arms fall to her sides. “At night, when we were together, you were…loving. There’s no other way to describe it. The daytimes…those were different. I’d figured out enough of the problem to try to be understanding, but after a while I just couldn’t take it. That’s why I left Friday, Ben. I didn’t know how to get through to you.”

His lips curved crookedly. “You certainly found an effective way.”

“By leaving you? I did that for
me!
”

“But it worked.” Closing the last steps between them, Ben touched her shoulders tentatively, then more confidently slid his hands down her back and brought her against him. Her arms curved naturally around his waist. “It suddenly hit me that I’d driven you away myself, that while Lynn was taken from me through no fault of my own,
I
was going to be fully responsible for losing you.”

“You haven’t lost me!”

“Not yet. But when I came home yesterday and found your note, I knew I was halfway there.” Fully sober, he studied her features. “I was terrified. You can’t believe the pain. It was as if it had happened all over again.”