No More Lonely Nights (61 page)

Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, Mark lowered his head for a kiss, gentle and light. Dominique parted her lips and tasted the warm sweetness of his tongue. It tingled like spice. She kissed him there, where his lips curved upward, as though ready to smile, and there, on the dimple that appeared on his cheek when finally he did smile. She lightly stroked the side of Mark’s neck with her fingertips and felt him tremble under her touch. His hardness strained against the softness of her thigh, but Mark showed no sign of impatience; he was content to let things progress at Dominique’s pace. Dominique was unutterably moved by his combination of strength and vulnerability. He didn’t hide the fact that she held his emotions in her hands, yet he seemed willing to trust her with that power. She had never known a person so open, so willing to give of himself.

As she met his eyes, the love between them was like a preternatural force that encapsulated them, blocking out the rest of the world. In her mind, Dominique said the words,
make love to me
, though it wasn’t in her nature to say them aloud.

But Mark reacted as though she had spoken. He gathered her close and gave Dominique a lingering kiss, then eased her from his lap and led her to the bed. They stopped at its edge and Mark pulled Dominique to him. For a moment they stood that way, their hearts pounding together. Then Mark kissed Dominique and his arms grew tense and hard as he wrapped her in his embrace. In unison, they sank to the bed.

Suddenly, they were both voracious to experience what they had so far only imagined. With a few deft movements, Mark freed them of their clothes. The cool air assaulted Dominique’s nerve endings and she closed her eyes and shivered at the delicious feeling. Mark stretched out at her side, his elbow bent, his palm supporting his head. And for a long time, he didn’t move. His regard swept over Dominique, as though to savor the fact that she was there. The heat between Dominique’s legs turned into an ache and her breath grew short. She wanted to reach for Mark, but was held rapt in unbearable, immobilizing suspense—the kind that preceded an orgasm—yet Mark had not even touched her.

Finally, Mark stretched out his hand and delicately smoothed his fingers over Dominique’s thigh. Goose bumps rose on her body. She remained breathlessly still as Mark traced the smooth curve of her arms, the smoother satin of her breasts. He circled his hand over Dominique’s hips, then eased it between her legs. The hot eagerness she felt was like a distant memory stoked to unprecedented heights. She could bear the tension no longer, and she reached for Mark, bringing him close.

Mark looked down at her. In the dim light, she was rosy with arousal. Her eyes glittered beneath half-open lids and her lips, swollen from his kisses, invited more. She had always seemed so discreet, so self-contained. He had dreamed one day of reaching the passion beneath, and was rewarded as he watched ecstasy transform Dominique.

To Dominique, it seemed Mark was everywhere at once. He filled her and covered her. His soft, rhythmic touch made her come alive. He moved slowly, testing the effect on her of each feathery movement of his hand. His desire to please, and his restraint, freed her inhibitions. Now she wanted to give
him
pleasure, to see him forget himself as he was making her forget herself. She slid her hand over the wiry hair on his chest, then downward until she encircled his member, felt it tremble at her touch. With her legs, she enfolded him. Ready for him. As he entered her, she exhaled a long, shuddering breath. Dominique was awash with sensation, outside herself. At first they moved gently, then with ferocious impatience. Dominique’s muscles grew rigid as the feeling held her in its thrall. Magnifying her pleasure a thousand fold was the awareness of their love. Their actions, their emotions, their tenderness were combining to
make
love. They were lost in each other—skin, muscle, touch, sensuality.

When Mark inhaled sharply and then, with a helpless tremor, climaxed, Dominique felt as though she were being filled with his soul. And, as the feeling sang around her and surged through her heart, she surrendered to it.

Afterward, they clung together in silence. Words weren’t adequate to describe what had passed between them and so they remained mute, respecting its power. When their desire rose again, they came together quickly, their hunger fueled by their new knowledge of each other. They were insatiable, greedy as they had never been for the lovers who had gone before. Their inhibitions vanished as they breathed, tasted, reveled in each other. They wanted to possess and be possessed.

Finally, as the night sky began to lighten, they reluctantly moved apart, their fingers clutching each other even as they slid from the bed. Dominique threw her robe around her, shivering with the absence of Mark’s warmth. But it was growing light—he had to hurry away.

With a sense of loss, she accompanied him downstairs, then stood at her front door and watched him pick his way down the uneven flagstones. When he reached the gate, he turned and looked back at her. The sky was still a deep, inky gray and Dominique could barely make out his features. But she saw the gleam of his eyes and she understood what they were saying to her. Her heart lifted out of her body, heavenward. She raised her index finger to her lips and lightly kissed it, then turned it in Mark’s direction.

From the dark came his whisper, “I love you.”

IT WAS a deceptively crisp-looking Saturday morning, but Dominique knew that when she actually stepped outside, she’d be overwhelmed by the muggy August heat. She ran her fingers through her hair and stretched, reluctant to move from the cool kitchen. Then, bracing herself, she hurried out to get the newspaper.

Back inside, she settled at the table with a cup of coffee to await Danielle’s weekly call. Just as she poured her second cup, the phone rang.

“Well, I did it!” Danielle announced proudly in response to Dominique’s hello.

Dominique laughed at the cryptic statement, but her curiosity was piqued. “What?” she asked.

“I found a job!”

Dominique’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You what?”

“That’s right. I thought about how enterprising you were to start your own business. You inspired me!”

“That’s wonderful! I knew you could do it!”

Danielle snorted. “It took a while. A lot of people just laughed in my face because I didn’t have any experience. Politely, of course, but still…”

Dominique made a sound of commiseration.

“Finally, I thought of a way to prove I was qualified.”

“Qualified? What kind of job did you get?”

“Financial planner at Pratt, Watkins.”

Dominique’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding! The one with the ads where everyone—”

“Exactly,” Danielle interrupted.

“But they’re huge!” Dominique exclaimed. “How in the world did you do it?”

“Well…” Danielle was clearly ready to launch into the story.

“Wait!” Dominique cried. “Let me put Mother on the extension. She’ll want to hear.” Dominique put down the phone and ran upstairs to rouse Solange.

“Danielle’s on the phone and she’s found a job! Pick up the extension in my room.”

Moving as quickly as a girl, Solange slid from her bed and grabbed her robe from the nightstand. A few seconds later, the three women were talking together.

“Mother, did Dominique tell you I found a job?” Danielle asked in French.

“Oui! Mabrook!
Solange answered in a mixture of French and Arabic.

Dominique smiled as she realized that she had never heard her mother say congratulations in any language but Arabic.
“Mabrook!”
was her cry on every happy occasion.

Danielle continued in French. “Well, everywhere I went, they told me that they wanted someone with experience. Of course, I had none. Then one day it occurred to me that I
did
have experience. I mean, I’ve managed my own portfolio. But I didn’t realize how well until I put together a chart that showed my earnings over the past twenty years.” She paused dramatically. “Do you know that I’ve outperformed some of the best money managers in the business? I’ve averaged an annual growth of fourteen percent. Recently, because of inflation, I’ve doubled my money. Other times, I didn’t do as well. But the average is still fourteen percent. Pretty incredible when you compare it to a bank or bonds.”

“Oh, Danielle, I’m so proud of you!” Dominique said.

“You were always so bright,” Solange added adoringly.

“You should see the office… seventy stories right on Wall Street!”

“How long is the commute?” Dominique asked.

“Forty minutes. And the best part is, I get to buy a whole new wardrobe for work. I’m having the time of my life!” Danielle’s voice soared.

“That’s wonderful,” said Solange. Then her tone became ominous. “How does Ronald feel about it?”

“He has no say in the matter,” Danielle said flatly.

“He’s not pleased, is he?” Dominique probed.

Danielle sighed. “Not especially.”

“Well,… he’ll come around,” Dominique said.

“He’ll have to,” Danielle said in a tone that brooked no contradiction.

“How is he? And the girls?” Solange asked.

“Oh, Ronald’s fine,” Danielle said indifferently. Then her tone became enthusiastic. “The kids are great. I can’t believe that Monique starts at Boston University next month.” She sighed. “At least Lana’s in Boston, too. Things are so crazy these days…”

“Give them my love,” said Solange longingly.

“I think Lana may visit you before school starts, Mother,” Danielle said. “If that’s all right with you, Dominique.”

“Of course,” said Dominique. “She can sleep with Gabrielle, or we can pull out the living room couch, if she’d prefer.”

“How is Gabrielle?” Danielle asked.

“Wonderful.” Dominique’s voice glowed. “She’s going down to New Orleans next week for another visit with her father.”

“And what about Mark? Is he still in the picture?”

“Oh la la!” Solange broke in with a laugh. “He’s here almost every evening.”

“Never mind that,” Dominique said with impatient good humor. “Danielle, when do you start your new job?”

“I started on Monday. I even have an office of my own. It’s small, but the managers above me have bigger ones. I want one of those by next year.”

“And you’ll have it,” Solange said confidently.

“I’ll give you another report next Saturday,” Danielle said, her voice bouncing with optimism.

“I can’t wait. You’re terrific!” said Dominique.

“Mabrook, cherie,”
Solange said once more.

“That’s marvelous news!” Mark gave Dominique a smile of genuine pleasure as he led her onto the wide porch of his old Victorian. His home was in Cleveland Park, a woodsy neighborhood at the edge of the District of Columbia. There was a distinctly southern feel to the area, with its sprawling, comfortable houses and its broad, tree-shaded yards. It was the kind of place where people took walks on summer evenings and grew their own herbs.

After Dominique’s conversation with Danielle, she had thrown on a pair of shorts and a shirt and driven to Mark’s house. One Saturday a month he washed his MG, and Dominique had fallen into the habit of helping him. Afterward, they washed her car. On this afternoon, they were invited to go swimming at the home of Mark’s neighbors, a congenial couple, both professors at Georgetown University.

“Want some iced tea before we get started?” Mark pointed at a pitcher resting on a white wicker table.

Dominique smiled in agreement. She liked nothing better than to sit on Mark’s wraparound porch and watch people go by. It was a friendly block, and Mark and Dominique often socialized with the neighbors. It was rare that he received an invitation that did not include her and vice versa.

Mark poured two glasses of iced tea and handed one to Dominique as he sat in the rocking chair beside hers. “I bet Danielle will be running the company in no time,” he remarked with a chuckle.

Dominique was warmed by his interest in her family. To him, they weren’t just acquaintances. He cared about them, and was willing to exert considerable effort on their behalf. She thought of the pool party he had hosted in his back yard for Gabrielle and her friends. “It’s important for teenagers to feel like part of the crowd. She’ll be the toast of her class after this,” he’d predicted. And he’d been right.

He was equally considerate of Solange. That summer, she had been fascinated by the televised Watergate hearings. Mark had personally escorted her to a session, and reserved for her one of the coveted chairs in the row behind the witness table.

Now, as Dominique’s thoughts turned to her sister, she laughed. “Next time you see Danielle, be careful what you say,” she joked. “She may try to talk you into letting her handle your investments.”

Mark stopped rocking and his expression grew thoughtful. “Listen, if she does as well for her clients as she’s done for herself, I’d have no problem with that. In fact, it’s not a bad idea. That old duffer at the bank hasn’t done anything creative in years.”

Dominique held up a hand in protest. “I was kidding!” She shook her head. “Please. If anything happened, I’d never forgive myself.”

Mark smiled. “I’d forgive you.”

Dominique’s eyes lingered on the easy upward curve of his lips. It made her sad to think that, after tonight, she wouldn’t see him for several weeks. Congress had just recessed until Labor Day and Mark would, as always, return to Louisiana to be with his family and constituents. She put her hand on his forearm. “I’ll miss you,” she murmured. The words escaped her almost before she realized she’d spoken them.

Mark gave her a look of appeal, then put down his glass and stood up.

Dominique did the same and, side by side, they made their way to the driveway. They were silent as Mark turned on the hose and filled the waiting bucket with suds. But as they leaned over his MG with their sponges, he spoke. “I still don’t see why you all won’t come down to Louisiana. We have plenty of room at Belle Terre and the family would love to have you. My sisters would pamper you three like baby chicks.”