Texas Sunrise (4 page)

When he moved to cover her with his body, it was her turn to protest. As she rolled over on her side next to him, her cloud of dark hair tumbled around her face, grazing his shoulder and tickling his chest. She smoothed his chest with her fingertips, trailing through the patch of dark curls, exploring the regions that were smooth and hairless, then moving to the flat hardness of his belly. He heard himself gasp as her hand wandered close to his groin and then flew upward again. He wanted to applaud her daring, yet he almost laughed at the innocent look in her eyes. “Touch me,” he demanded, taking her hand in his, moving it downward again. It was their first time again, something only Maggie was capable of making him feel. “Do you like it when I touch you? Here?” He caressed her breast, feeling its weight in the palm of his hand, relishing the softness of it and the hard little crest that jutted into his palm. “And here?” he asked, sliding downward to the softness of her belly. “Here?” His fingers grazed the satiny flesh of her inner thighs, whispering past the fleecy curls between her legs.

Her hand followed his, combing past the thicket that surrounded his eager shaft. Hesitantly, her fingers explored him, moving upward to touch the velvet-smooth tip, upon which poised a drop of moisture, like a glistening pearl. As she turned her head to watch the progress of her fingers, her hair hung like a curtain, shielding her face from his view. It pleased her to hear his sharp intake of breath as her fingers traveled the length of his manhood downward to the surprising vulnerability between his thighs. She felt desire ripple through him and realized with a curious, proud excitement that she was in command of his passions.

When she lifted her head to look back at him, her eyes were heavy with desire; he was reminded of a sleek cat who has just discovered the cream bowl. The little smile she bestowed upon him was dripping feline self-satisfaction.

She reached out to touch him again, this time watching him, aware of his every reaction, relishing the masculine hardness of him and feeling it pulsate in anticipation of her touch. When she closed her hand over him, a deep throbbing sounded in his chest and rumbled from his lips. Unable to resist her a moment longer, he reached up, pulled her beside him and took the superior position. Only having her, losing himself within her, would satisfy.

A golden warmth flooded through Maggie as he brought his mouth to hers once again. His movements were smoothly executed as he drew a path from one breast to the other, covering each first with his hands and then with his lips. She clung to the strength of his arms, holding fast as though she were fearful of falling in on herself, never to be found again.

His hands, at her waist and buttocks, lifted her slightly. The tortuous, teasing exploration of his tongue made her shudder and heightened her passion. Her fingers clutched and pulled at his dark, ruffled hair as though begging him to stop while her body arched into his, feverishly exposing herself to his maddening mouth. He searched for and found the secret places that pushed her to the brink of release, only to have his kiss follow another path before returning to the first.

A yawning ache spread through Maggie, demanding satisfaction, settling at her core and forcing her to seek relief by writhing and thrashing about restlessly. Rand held her there, forcing her to him, adoring her with his hands and lips until she could deny herself no longer. Her body flamed, her back arched, and her world divided into two parts—her need and his lips. And when the tremors ceased and his mouth covered hers once again, she tasted herself there. She was satisfied, yet discontented. She had feasted, but she was famished. She wanted more, much more. She wanted to share with him the release of his own passion.

She urged him onward. Grasping her hips, he lifted her, and she wound her parted thighs around him. She guided him into her, pulling him forward, driving downward, now with a different desire, cooler than before. As she moved with him, became part of him, Maggie fueled his passion and renewed her own. Together they were flung upward; together they found the sun.

For what seemed an eternity they lay together, whispering and touching. They loved.

“Not bad for an old broad, eh?” Maggie gurgled with laughter.

“Not bad at all,” Rand said smoothly.

Stark naked, Maggie and Rand walked up to the lanai arm in arm, their suits draped over their shoulders. They showered together on the concrete pad, and they wrapped themselves in colorful towels.

“Are you still going over to Maui?” Maggie asked as she popped open a can of iced tea.

“Are you kidding? This old man is heading for the bedroom for a nap.”

Maggie hooted. “I knew it, I knew it. Let's do it again!”

“You looking for early widowhood?”

Maggie's face became serious. “Don't ever say that again to me. I hate that word. I don't know what I'd do without you, Rand,” she said harshly.

He was supposed to say, And I wouldn't want to live without you, Maggie darling. But he didn't. Instead, he said, “I am going to Maui, and yes, I will pick Susan up from the airport on my way back.”

“Sounds good to me,” Maggie said quietly.

When Maggie heard the sound of Rand's car spewing gravel in the driveway, she walked down to the beach to sit in the sun. Why did she feel so cold, so alone? She ran the past hour over and over in her mind. The lovemaking was wonderful, but it had been her idea, not Rand's. She thought of all the excuses he had made over the past three weeks. He had headaches, his back hurt, he had paperwork to do, he fell asleep before she finished in the bathroom. If she had to come up with a word to describe her husband, she would say he was bored. With her. Oh, he still said he loved her, wanted her, needed her, but she wasn't sure if she believed him any longer. Maybe Rand was going through the male mid-life crisis. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maggie inhaled deeply, loving the scent of the salty ocean. A spray of frothy blue water rushed about her feet, leaving behind little droplets that looked like tiny jewels on her sunbronzed ankles. It was such a perfect day, the way most were. Not a cloud in the sky, and where it met the horizon, it was impossible to tell where sky ended and ocean began. Breathtaking, utterly breathtaking.

Lord in heaven, she was blessed in so many ways. Why couldn't she just accept that? “Because, damnit, something is wrong,” she said aloud. Was it Rand? Her mother, her sister's visit? Or was it her?

A sudden gust of plumeria-scented air swept past. It was so heady, she closed her eyes to savor the fragrant breeze. Next to the tantalizing aroma of fried onions and peppers, plumeria was her favorite smell in the world. Another wave washed against her legs. She looked down and imagined a string of diamonds circling her ankles. A strange sound slid past her lips. Water drops that were like strings of diamonds, flowers that reminded her of frying onions and peppers, mechanical lovemaking. Her do-nothing life. Maybe that was what was bothering her. She wasn't contributing. Instead, she was monitoring her husband, spending as much time with him as possible so he wouldn't spend time with anyone else.

If she took over Billie Ltd., Rand would be left to his own devices. She would have to do a fair amount of traveling, work the same long, arduous hours her mother had put in when the company was at its peak. What it was coming down to, she thought, was Billie Ltd. or Rand. I must not be much of a woman if I can't hold my husband just because I'm nearing fifty, she thought. Fifty. The magic halfway mark in a woman's life. Was it true that women grew older and men grew distinguished? It wasn't fair. She needed a Billie pep talk. Or maybe she just needed to unload on family. A sister could be as good as a mother. Susan might be a good sounding board. Sawyer would be good too, but she had her hands full with the twins. No sense unnerving her.

Maggie dug her toes into the bare sand as deep as they would go. “Nobody ever gets it all,” she muttered. “You get close, and then, because you don't deserve it, it's snatched away.” Now, where did that thought come from? There were no answers here on this white beach. Her mother said that the answers always lay within one's self, and Billie was never wrong. Never.

A walk on the beach and then a brief snooze under the monkeypod tree might give her some perspective. “All I have are brief moments of happiness,” Maggie muttered as she trudged along the water's edge.

 

As the sun was beginning to set, Maggie woke to voices from the lanai. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she heard her husband say, “Maggie usually takes a nap late in the afternoon. Five will get you ten she's under the monkeypod tree. Maggie doesn't . . . Maggie doesn't do much these days but hover.”

Hover.
Dear God. She sprang from the hammock, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. A moment later she was speaking to Rand, forcing a lilt into her voice. “I was reading this awesome book Mam sent a few weeks ago. I'm going to call her later, and I wanted to be able to discuss it with her.”

“Are we having dinner this evening?” Rand said. “The kitchen is cool, dim, and there are no fragrant odors,” Rand teased lightly.

Maggie refused to look directly at her husband, refused to acknowledge she'd heard his words.
Hover.
God in heaven. Instead, she focused on her sister. “Let me look at you, Suse,” she ordered. “Too thin,” she said, clucking her tongue. “I don't see a sparkle in your eyes either. Well, we can fix that up in a hurry. The lei becomes you. I made it myself this morning. Doesn't the scent just drive you crazy? I guess Ferris was too busy to come with you. Oh, I get it, this is one of those getaway vacations. Well, this is the right place for a quick getaway. Juice? Some fruit? Come on, I'll show you your room. You can change into a suit and we'll hit the water.” She knew she was babbling, but her eyes pleaded with Rand not to question her as she ushered Susan into the house.

“So, this is the magical paradise where everyone has found happiness,” Susan said with a bitter edge in her voice. “I'm the only one who's never been here, and yet I'm the one who was conceived here. Can you imagine that?”

“If I remember correctly, you never
wanted
to come here,” Maggie said, matching her sister's tone. “I invited you and Ferris dozens of times, but you always had a reason why you couldn't visit.”

“Mam gave you this place, didn't she?” Susan said tightly.

“Only for a year. Then Rand and I bought it from her. She wanted us to see if we'd like living here on a full-time basis. Where did you ever get the idea it was a gift? Mam is generous, but not that generous. Besides, Rand would never have accepted it. Isn't that right, Rand?” Maggie said, looking directly at her husband for the first time.

“True. But it looks like you two have some squabbling to get out of your system. Why don't you do it while I go to Mickey Dee's and bring home some food?”

He was gone a second later.

“Why are you here now, Susan? What's wrong?”

“Maggie, I'm dead on my feet. I have jet-lag and I haven't been sleeping well lately. Would you mind terribly if I took a nap? Just an hour or so. I ate on the plane so don't worry about me. And don't let me sleep any longer.”

“Oh, Suse, I'm sorry,” Maggie said, hugging her sister. “Of course you must be tired. We can talk later, stay up all night if necessary. Remember how we used to do that until we got all caught up?”

“I remember,” Susan said sadly, her eyes misting.

Maggie pretended not to see her sister's tears. “The bathroom is over there, and in the top drawer are some night things Sawyer keeps here. I'll turn down the bed and all you have to do is hop in. A word of warning, though. Don't sleep on the eyelet ruffle or you'll have creases in your face when you wake. Or,” she added thoughtfully, “does that just happen to women my age? I'm forty-nine, you know. What are you, forty-eight? My God! It's awesome, isn't it?” She was babbling again and still didn't know why. “Sleep tight, Suse.”

In a flash Maggie was down the hall and into her husband's small office. As always when she was around her sister, Maggie left her feelings aside; now she spoke boldly to Rand. “Something's wrong. I can feel it. Did she say anything on the ride from the airport?”

Rand stared at his wife. “She said Hawaii is beautiful and she loved the ride up here to the North Shore. We talked about the lei, and I told her you made it just for her. She said they had a hard winter this year. She did say she was homesick, but didn't know where home was. I felt sorry for her. Mother Maggie's magic is what she needs, I think. Maybe she and Ferris had a tiff. She misses Jessie terribly. She hasn't gotten over her death, that's for sure. Don't look so troubled, darling. Susan is a grown woman. She can handle it. Time is all she needs.”

“
If
there is a problem, why didn't she go to Mam's? I always want to run to Mam when something goes wrong. It's not just Suse either. I've had this ominous feeling for a few days now that things aren't what they seem with Mam. You know me and my feelings.”

“I think you're just overexcited. Let's you and I skip out to Mickey Dee's and grab ourselves some succulent, greasy, deep-fried mahi-mahi, and greasier french fries.”

“I'm not hungry. Why don't you go and get whatever you want, or I can make a salad. There's some very good crabmeat in the refrigerator. It's up to you. I want to make some phone calls before it gets too late. You don't mind, do you?” Her tone of voice let him know she didn't much care one way or the other.

“Guess I'll see you in a bit then. I can taste the grease already. Give my regards to everyone.”

The soft knock on the door caused both Maggie and Rand to turn around. “Oh, Lela, are you finished?” Maggie said. “Yes, I guess you are. That was a silly question now, wasn't it? I think my checkbook is here somewhere.” Feeling uncomfortable about Lela's presence, she rummaged in Rand's desk drawer for the household checkbook.