Sweet Surrender (44 page)

Marc’s hand came up to brush the hair off her face, gathering her wild mane in one hand and pulling it forward over her shoulder. The near constant glint of arousal flashed as his eyes tipped up to her.

“Happy,
bella?
”

“More like ecstatic,
bello mio
.”

His eyes dipped lower, watching as his thumb swept over her lower lip. “You know, I’ve never brought my wife to a screaming orgasm before a wall of windows with the city of Las Vegas at our feet.”

“Yes, you have, just last night, as a matter of fact. We did it in the foyer, on the dining room table, over the ottoman in the living room and I screamed each time. The entire suite is floor-to-ceiling windows, handsome.”

“I stand corrected. I’ve never brought my wife to a screaming orgasm
from our bed
before a wall of windows with the city of Las Vegas at our feet.”

“Now that is true. You wore us both out before we made it to the bedroom.” She smiled as she lightly caressed his face and down his cheek until her fingertips rested on his luscious, sensual lips. “Are you going to do something to rectify that sad omission, big guy?”

Proving how ready he was to make that happen, he pressed his hips against her. As he watched her silently, his hands began to rove. Caressing her skin and dipping into sensitive places, he made her body come to life and hunger for his.

When he didn’t seem in a hurry to move beyond petting, she demanded, “What are you waiting for?”

“So impatient, I’m simply running through the possibilities and trying to decide how.” He flexed his hips and the hard length of him slid along her wet slit. “Cowboy is good,” he said as though thinking aloud, “but with this view, reverse cowboy might be better.”

His strong hands turned her and he entered her almost at the same time. He filled her as she sat astride his hips, facing away from him, with the sunlit strip spread out before her. “Ride me, baby.”

She did precisely that and what a wild ride it was. In this position, she couldn’t do much other than hang on, her hands too busy keeping herself balanced atop his thrusting hips and driving cock. That wasn’t the case for Marc, who was free to let his hands roam, grabbing handfuls of her bouncing breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples, which he knew she loved. He also had easy access to her clit and had no trouble reaching it, circling and rubbing as she moved above him. He had her lean forward, her palms flat on the bed between his knees as his hands cupped her hips, squeezing her ass and pulling her cheeks apart with his thumbs. Then he described intimately and graphically the pleasure he found in watching her pussy take every inch of him. When he slipped a thumb into her ass, stroking in and out in counterpoint to the hard length of him driving upward, that was it for her. His wish came true as she screamed in climax, the sound resonating back to them off the walls of glass.

“Hell, yeah, baby,” Marc growled. In a flash, he had her on her hands and knees, plunging into her deeply from behind, so hard and intense that neither saw any more of the fabulous view out their window, lost instead in their own spectacle, the beauty of which was mind-blowing. This time they both screamed, his being more of a shout; still they came as one, finding exquisite release together.

A long while later, they lay on their sides at the foot of the bed, Marc propped on an elbow behind her, his arm encircling her waist.

“I wish we could stay longer than the weekend,” Jessie sighed.

“Me too, but duty calls. I’ve got surgeries backed up with all the time I’ve taken off and Ben is rethinking our partnership. None of us had any intention of him shouldering the burden of a three-man practice alone.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess it isn’t fair to overtax the new kid.”

“You’ve got a big job ahead of you too.”

She chuckled. “I still can’t believe the job I interviewed for was for your surgery center.” Twisting in his arms, she eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure you didn’t have a hand in that?”

“Absolutely not. The management company we hired found the administrator. He and the team of consultants had free rein. I promise it was all you. Your interview blew them away and it was you who impressed them enough to make an offer.”

A smile crept slowly across her face. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is not to have to go back to St. Joe’s when I get back.”

“I’m just as relieved. Now I get to have you all to myself in the evenings, at night, every weekend, and on holidays. You’ll be sick of me.”

Shaking her head vigorously, she put a finger over his mouth. “Never! We’ve got a lifetime of nights, weekends, and holidays ahead of us and I intend to savor each and every one of them.”

“
Ti amo, bella mia.”

“Ti amo piu della vita stessa, il mio amore.”

With eyes as wide as his grin, he said, “Perfect. I also love you more than life itself. When have you had time for lessons?”

“I asked your dad on the plane. Your mother overheard how badly he butchered it and corrected him. When I had it down pat, she even smiled at me. I thought I’d pass out on the spot from shock.”

“Baby, give her time to warm up. You’re thoroughly lovable and I know she’ll come to love you as much as I do.”

“I doubt it. I’ll take civil and courteous over vicious insults any day, however.” She saw his eyes darken and was immediately sorry she brought it up. “Handsome, this is a fresh start for all of us, I believe that. Please don’t feel bad about this anymore.”

“I promise to be more vigilant in the future, Jess.”

“As long as you’re heedful around Giada, I think I can handle the rest of them.”

“I’m sorry you have to handle them at all.”

“Me too, but I’ll win them over. I am thoroughly lovable, after all. You said it yourself.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He pushed her to her back and came on top of her. “It must be true then. Let’s see exactly how lovable you can be. Shall we?”

They didn’t emerge from their suite for two days and then only at Marc’s insistence that they visit a casino and see a show, to experience more of Las Vegas than the luxury of a Four Seasons bed and an awesome view.

After seeing Criss Angel’s ‘Believe,’ which was true to its name, they were back at the Mandalay Bay and testing their luck. With Marc explaining the rules, she lost miserably at the slot machines and craps. He’d had to talk her down from the ledge when she learned that the chips he’d given her were hundred-dollar chips, not the tens she’d thought them to be.

“I’ll never have to worry about you overspending, will I, Mrs. Trent?” he teased.

Jessie was ready to call it a night when he convinced her to try a round or two of roulette. She reluctantly agreed, placing her last two chips on red. He was ignoring her grumbling about how they may as well have taken a match to two hundred dollars when she won. Feeling daring for once, she let it ride, and red soon carried her all the way to being five thousand dollars richer. Bouncing excitedly as Marc helped her collect her winnings, she laughed at the irony of it all.

“It’s funny. When you asked me out, I was skeptical, but I risked it, took a chance, and came out a winner. Like tonight.”

They stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floors where the Four Seasons Hotel was housed. He curled her against him, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he hugged her tight.

“It’s about damn time Lady Luck smiled on you, baby.”

“Let’s hope she continues to be on my side.”

“She will, if I have anything to say about it.”

Jessie grinned up at her very protective husband. “If she doesn’t, will you kick her ass for me,
bello mio?
”

“Damn straight, be it kicking Lady Luck’s ass, taking on bitchy family members, or taking out Superman, you can count on me.”

Suppressing a giggle, she sighed dreamily. “My hero.”

“You’re mine,
bella,
my woman, my wife, the love of my life. I’d do anything for you, Jessica Trent.”

His words, so beautifully sweet, made her eyes mist with tears as she buried her face in his neck, trying unsuccessfully not to cry.

Epilogue

The heels of her four-inch, back-zip, black leather Prada booties echoed on the marble of the foyer as she paced. Checking her Movado rose-gold watch, she saw that Ian had five minutes before he was late—again. Stopping in front of the mirror, she checked her hair and makeup once more. She smoothed back her sable hair that gleamed in the light of the chandelier, courtesy of the layers of product her stylist had applied only hours ago. Her smoky makeup complemented her dark brown eyes, as did her long curly black lashes. Her crimson lips were perfection, thanks to the sealer coat she had applied. She adjusted the V neckline of her heather-gray Max Mara faux wrap blouse that topped her Armani straight-leg wool trousers. As she checked her look front and back in the mirror, she had to admit the monochromatic look of black pants and black boots made her legs look longer than her five-foot-ten frame was already endowed with.

Giada sighed. She was a designer amalgamation, but it was expected when the CEO of Trent Industries went out on the town.

Checking her watch again, she frowned. Now Ian was late. She had confirmed their dinner date with his secretary, or her personal assistant had at least, and he knew she didn’t want to be alone tonight.

Going to the bottom of the curving staircase, she called for him. “Ian?” Pausing to listen, she frowned when he didn’t respond.

She began to climb the stairs, turning back when she heard steps in the hallway. Beatrice, her housekeeper, was walking by at that moment with a vase of fresh-cut flowers for the living room. The beautiful winter bouquet of white lilies, yellow roses, and blue delphinia made her smile. It was one of the few romantic concessions she allowed herself to enjoy, fresh flowers throughout the house.

“Bea,” she called to the woman, “have you seen Mr. Sheridan?”

“Yes, ma’am, he came in a few minutes ago and went upstairs.”

Relieved, she turned and hurried up the wide staircase. Turning to the left, she rushed down the carpeted hallway and turned right at the end; the double doors to their suite of rooms were wide open and the light was on.

“Ian, our reservations are at 6:30, if we don’t hurry—” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him. In shirtsleeves and still wearing his tie, looking as devastatingly handsome as he had ten years ago when they’d first met, Ian Sheridan still had the power to make her heart stop. He’d always been highly sexual, initiating sex and aggressive at times, but it had cooled off in the past months, no, years, if she had to admit it. He was distant now and she couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. Her eyes followed him from his tall six-drawer chest, where he removed a handful of socks and boxers, to the bed where his suitcase lay open, already half-full.

“You’re packing?”

“That seems obvious.” He didn’t look up; moving to the closet, he disappeared, returning with a stack of shirts.

“But where are you going? I didn’t know you had travel plans.”

“I’m done, Giada.”

“Excuse me?”

He turned to her for the first time since she’d entered the room. His blue eyes were cold, but flashed with something else—anger? No, she corrected; resignation, maybe?

“We had an appointment today that you missed, again.”

She tried to think. It was Friday, what had they planned? Then it struck her—their marriage counseling appointment.

“Oh, Ian. It completely slipped my mind. We had contract negotiations with the union all day.”

“Yes, that was today. What about last week and the other appointment you missed two weeks before that? It’s always something else, Giada. Obviously, our marriage wasn’t important enough for you to take time out of your busy schedule to try to save it. You won’t have to worry about it anymore though, I’m done,” he repeated.

“What do you mean, done? You’re leaving?” Stunned, she stared, unblinking.

“You seem surprised.” As he spoke, he continued to work, folding clothes into his suitcase and tucking his shirts into a garment bag. Disappearing into the closet again, he came out with his dark blue suit and two pair of shoes, sneakers, and his black leather Hugo Boss loafers that he always wore to court. He closed his suitcase, slung his garment bag over his arm, and then stood looking around as if checking to see if he’d forgotten anything.

He moved toward the door, where she still stood gaping at him.

“Can’t we talk about this? Please.”

His eyes shifted to hers. “Please. Hmm, how long has it been since you’ve said that word, or thank you, or I love you?”

“I do love you, Ian.”

“I don’t feel like you do; in fact, I’m not convinced you love anyone but yourself, Giada. You’re a hardass CEO, I get that, but you treat everyone in your life—even me—like they work for you. It’s your way, or no way. Your sisters are afraid of you, your father threw you out of the house, and you’ve been ostracized by your only brother. Case in point, you’re here when your entire family is in Vegas celebrating Marc and Jessie’s wedding without you, because you weren’t invited after acting like a bitch.”

She flinched; never had he spoken to her that way.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it? I haven’t stopped loving you, Giada, but I can’t go on this way. I won’t spend another day miserable and lonely in your company, taking a back seat to everything else in your world. I love you, sweetheart, but I deserve better.”

“So you love me, but not enough to stay and fight for me. Just like that, you’re going?”

“I’ve been fighting for ten years, Giada. After that length of time, I’m admitting defeat and cutting my losses while I’m still young enough to start over. One thing we’ve never seen eye to eye on is starting a family. I wanted to have babies with you, my beautiful wife. As I sat waiting in the therapist’s office today, forgotten and neglected, I realized I’m glad we didn’t have kids because I would have been scared shitless every day they’d end up being treated as poorly as their father.”