Authors: Pamela Browning
"If that's true, if it really is still you and me, you'll have to make more time for us," she said, and her voice broke with the tension of it.
In a rush of intense empathy, of understanding the way things seemed from her point of view, he drew her gently into his arms, feeling the warmth of her body, the sweet miracle of her. He had never meant to hurt her, but he had been torn between Cathryn and his daughter. Now he saw that he had slighted Cathryn in his eagerness to resume his relationship with Selby, and it was clear to him that if he wanted to keep Cathryn, things would have to change.
The truth of it was that he had been without her too long. "My dear Cat," he murmured, "I will make time for us. It won't be easy, but now that I know you feel so strongly about it, we'll manage. We'll work it out, I promise."
Cathryn turned her head to reveal the unabashed desire in her eyes. Drew's lips found hers, and their kiss increased in passion. He longed to rediscover all of her, to renew his sensation of her full, upturned breasts, to let his hands roam downward to the smooth, round fullness of her hips, to explore the most intimate places.
Beneath his hands she seemed familiar but somehow different after so long a time. Had her ear always been so neatly curved, so flat and perfect, swirled like a seashell? Were her fingers always so long and tapered, and had they ever before caressed him so elegantly?
One of Drew's hands wove itself into her hair as he eased her head back until her throat arched, the most sensitive skin now exposed for his kisses.
His mouth on her burning skin sent heat waves radiating through her body, and she moaned in readiness. This was what she had wanted for so long; it was what she had been waiting for. His hand released her hair and glided to the zipper at the back of her dress. Very slowly, he skimmed the zipper down and parted the fabric. He unhooked the wisp of silk that held her breasts and slipped the dress off her shoulders. At the same time she worked at the buttons of his shirt so that he could shrug it off and loosened his pants until he was able to slide out of them in one fluid movement. His hands stroked her sides, then curled around to support her breasts, white in the moonlight, while he admired them.
Then she was lying back on the blanket, arms reaching up for him in silent entreaty. He paused for a moment to marvel at the beauty of her as she lay before him in the moonlight, her hair spilling across the sand. He thought she had never looked more beautiful and he had never wanted her more than he did at that instant.
"I love you," he told her unsteadily, gathering her to him.
"I love you," she whispered, feeling the true emotion of her words.
Cathryn trailed a string of kisses from his mouth downward until she had to roll him over to his back so that her lips and tongue could work their magic down his body, across his stomach, along his thighs.
"Cathryn," he said, and the name was a moan. She was making him wait for what he wanted most, and the wait was wonderful agony.
When he was so desperate for her that he could no longer stand the anguish, he sat and lifted her face so that he could see his adoration of her reflected back to him in her rapturous expression. She shone naked and pale and white in the light from the moon, and her hair tumbled over his thighs like a froth of moonbeams.
He would have liked to be gentler with her after so long a time. This was a time for cherishing her and savoring the delight. But the need was strong within him, and he could wait no longer. He clasped her to him, pressing his mouth to hers. She returned his ardor measure for measure, turning on her back, pulling him along with her.
Lowering himself over her, face to face, her long body pressed tightly beneath his, he clutched her to him as they melded together for moments before exploding in a starburst of bright light.
The power behind the act was enough to make her gasp and then moan with her own explosion, a white-hot fusion that melted the ice within her.
They lay locked in each other's arms, shaken by the release of so much feeling. Joyful tears stung Cathryn's eyes. Their intimacy had been revived, their relationship revitalized. Again they felt the encompassing closeness that had made the two of them together so very special from the beginning.
Drew held her close, wondering how he could have been so wrong. He'd tried to exorcise the lingering pain of his past life by clinging to his child as though she were the last life preserver from a ship that had sunk. But she wasn't enough to keep him afloat. He needed this woman, Cathryn. She was part of the life he could live from now on, and that was what really counted, not the life he had left behind.
When he could speak, he said, "I never want to be without you again. Never. Marry me, Cathryn." And as he kissed her eyes, still bright and damp with tears, her heart stilled and grew solemn with the thought of it.
Marriage,
she thought, awestruck by the idea.
Marriage.
Although she loved Drew with all her heart, was marriage what she truly wanted?
Chapter 12
"Hold still—that's right. Just let me dab on a bit more highlighter," said Cathryn, scrutinizing Selby's face through narrowed eyes. Selby stood gazing at herself in Cathryn's mirror with unconcealed delight.
The idea of a complete makeup job just for fun had been Selby's idea, and Cathryn had been pleased to oblige. Together they'd rummaged through Cathryn's makeup drawer searching for the perfect eyeliner to emphasize Selby's blue eyes and exactly the right shade of lipstick to complement her fair skin.
"How's it going?" Drew asked as he poked his head around the edge of the bathroom door. Selby closed her eyes to show off the elaborate layers of eyeshadow.
"What do you think?" said Cathryn critically, surveying her work.
"I think I you're a pretty little girl who is going to grow up to be a beautiful big girl," he said, scarcely able to take his eyes off Selby. "And when do we eat dinner? It's ready."
"Right now, if you like," said Cathryn.
"I like. Anyway, what kind of a deal is this? You invite us over for dinner, and you snatch my daughter out from under my very eyes and disappear so that I have to put the finishing touches on the meal. Some hostess you are."
"You have to learn to be a little impulsive once in a while," she informed him.
Selby, who was turning this way and that as she examined her reflection, grinned up at her. "Thank you, Cathryn," she said, hugging Cathryn around the waist. "Is it okay if I leave all this makeup on?"
"If your father doesn't mind," she said.
"Daddy?"
"Okay, Button. I've learned to be impulsive." He kissed Cathryn surreptitiously as Selby preceded them to the balcony where Cathryn had set the table for dinner.
This is what it would be like if Drew and I were married,
Cathryn thought as she deftly poured the Chablis. She had told him she'd have to think about it and that she didn't want either of them to rush into something as serious as marriage.
Now, the three of them gathered around the table together gave Cathryn a cozy, belonging feeling and an impression of family life that she'd never shared with anyone before. Selby sat across from her, looking grown-up in her adult makeup. Cathryn felt a tug at her heartstrings over this child who was not her child yet had grown so dear to her. It was a fondness that surpassed her obligation to be nice to Selby because she was Drew's daughter. She had grown to care for Selby in a very special way.
True to his word, Drew had made time for her in his life and Selby's since that night on the beach. Drew had made time for them to be alone together, too. Even though they hadn't discussed it further, marriage weighed heavily on their minds. So many factors were involved that didn't come to bear on decisions of ordinary people. Drew had his work with Sedgwick Department Stores, and Cathryn had the demands of her career. And, of course, there was Selby.
Cathryn knew, because he'd said so, that Drew was pleased that she and Selby had grown so close. Cathryn had learned Selby's weaknesses and strengths and limits. She'd become open and receptive to Selby's needs. Drew had watched and encouraged the bond between them to strengthen and grow.
"Let's all go on a picnic together," he'd suggest, or he'd say, "Cathryn, do you think Selby needs another swimsuit, or does she have enough?" Involving Cathryn in decisions concerning his daughter was his way of including her ever more deeply in his life.
Cathryn longed to be close to Drew and part of Drew in every way. But marriage? She thought about it all the time, when she was with him and as she worked. Eventually she'd have to deal with the question, she knew, but for now she was putting off the decision while she played for time.
Cathryn had finally finished work on the architect's office, and he'd been so pleased that he had thrown a grand reception to show off the results of her work. Mrs. Brattigan's green house was now redecorated in shades of yellow, and she happily pronounced the new color scheme delightful before flying off to Newport.
But Cathryn was busy now with other projects, and so, knowing how preoccupied she was, Drew had refrained from bringing up the subject of marriage again. He wanted to approach the idea gently, carefully, to avoid scaring her away.
She'd looked so stunned when he'd asked her to marry him, although he knew she'd probably thought about it. Marriage had certainly entered his mind often enough. He looked forward to the pleasure of waking up beside her every morning and her beatific smile as she snuggled into his arms for a moment of closeness before they began their separate days.
He'd daydreamed about marriage, fantasized, and pulled himself back from the precipice of actually asking her hundreds of times before he'd finally proposed. His hesitation didn't signify reluctance. He simply knew that he couldn't think about marriage to her until he knew how she got along with Selby.
Custody of Selby seemed more important all the time. He had seen, since she had been living with him, that Selby was an emotionally stable child and could probably handle a custody battle between her parents. Cathryn would be a wonderful stepmother, if only she knew it.
Drew hadn't believed how easily the relationship between Selby and Cathryn had flourished. He should have realized that Cathryn had a way with children when he'd seen her with Amanda. But he hadn't known how well she would get along with his daughter until he'd actually observed it. And it was then that he'd known he wanted to marry Cathryn more than anything in the world.
After dinner, when they were sitting on the balcony watching a half moon rise over the darkening sea, Cathryn said suddenly, "Have you heard from Talma lately?" Selby had gone to thumb through a stack of Cathryn's magazines, leaving them in privacy.
Drew sent her a surprised glance. "Selby's had a postcard from her mother. Talma is in Rome, and she doesn't know when she's coming back. Why do you ask?"
Cathryn shrugged. "Just interested. Selby doesn't mention her mother very often."
Drew was silent for a long time. "She's beginning to open up about life with her mother. Frankly, Cathryn, it disturbs me. Talma's a nervous, anxious woman—she has wild temper tantrums, and I'm sure Selby often feels frightened. Selby seemed tense the first few days we were together in New York, but she's relaxed and adjusted now. The other day she said she wished she could live with me instead of Talma. I'm beginning to think more and more about pursuing sole custody of her. What do you think?"
"I've only seen Selby here, of course, but there's no doubt in my mind that she's a happy child when she's with you."
"Talma isn't easy to deal with. We're barely on speaking terms. If I go for custody and fail to get it, Talma could create chaos every time I want to see Selby. The important thing is to do what's best for Selby." A line furrowed its way across Drew's forehead.
"What about counseling? It might help Talma."
Drew shook his head. "She's been seeing a psychiatrist for years. We saw a marriage counselor before we split. No, I'm sure that's not the answer."
"Then," Cathryn said quietly, "you must do what you think best."
What Drew thought best was to marry Cathryn. The three of them would be a family. There was nothing he wanted more.
Did she want that, too? Sometimes he saw the warm light in her eyes when she looked at Selby, or when she laughed with her, and there was a lot of laughter between Cathryn and his daughter. Tonight during dinner he could have sworn she was thinking about how it would be if the three of them gathered around a dinner table at the end of each and every day. Why wouldn't she say she'd marry him? She loved him. He was sure of that.