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Authors: Susan Crosby

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The Groom's Revenge (8 page)

BOOK: The Groom's Revenge
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“There are towels especially for use by the pool, huh?”
“In the cabana.” He angled his head toward the glass-walled structure.
Mollie sighed.
“How was your visit with my mother?”
“Fine.”
He waited, but she said nothing more, just closed her eyes and lifted her face again to the sun. He let his gaze follow every curve and plane of her lithe body, saw her nipples tighten, as if aware of his scrutiny. She arched a little more. Her skin glowed from the sunshine pouring down on her. In his mind’s eye her suit disappeared.
Gray got hard just watching, so he slipped into the pool. Lap after lap he swam, not counting how many times he turned and pushed off, not caring, fed up with holding back his need for her, wishing he didn’t know everything he knew about her—and glad that he did.
He pushed off again, stronger, swifter, remembering the look on his stepfather’s face when he reminded Gray of his responsibilities. As if he were the royal heir to the throne.
He was heir to a different throne, one he wanted so badly he was willing to go public with accusations against one of the country’s most sterling citizens, accusations of professional thievery and personal immorality against a man who would have the full support of the powerful Fortune family.
Gray chopped the water with a hypnotic windmill of arms. His legs burned. He focused on the pain, as relentless as his need to feel it. Another lap. One more. Oblivion could be reached eventually He crashed into something. Not the wall. Something soft.
Hands cupped his shoulders, imprisoning him.
“Stop,” Mollie said softly, her mouth close to his ear. “Just stop ” She felt his body go limp, then his feet touch bottom. He was the most complicated person she knew, locking so much mside himself. What demon drove him? Had his father said something to upset him? Did he disapprove of Mollie, too, like his mother?
“Sorry,” Gray said, shifting so that he rested his back against the side of the pool, next to her, his breathing short and shallow.
“Don’t apologize. Not to me.” She angled toward him, wanting to distract him. Be fearless, she told herself. “Your body is perfect.”
He made a noise as if denying her words.
“You could be a model,” she insisted. “An underwear model.”
His laugh came out ragged, but at least he laughed. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving it back.
“It’s true. Your face is really interesting. Your shoulders are broad. Your chest is, um, well, it’s incredible. You’ve got amazingly narrow hips and gorgeous, long legs. And you’re not hairy.”
He really laughed then, sinking mto the water, making bubbles as he drifted all the way under before coming slowly back up, his eyes alight with humor. “I guess I’m glad you noticed.”
“I’ve been noticing from the moment you stepped into my shop.”
“So have I. Been noticing you, that is.”
If they entered into a more intimate relationship, would that ruin everything? she wondered. Would he fire her as the party planner if they stopped being—dare she say it?—lovers? The party was inconsequential in comparison.
“Excuse me, sir. Miss.”
She hadn’t seen or heard Endicott approach, but Gray didn’t show any signs of being surprised.
“Yes, Endicott?” he asked.
“I’m to remind you that dinner is at seven, sir.”
“What time is it now?”
“Five past six.”
“Thank you. We’ll be on time.”
Mollie winked at the stiff-backed butler. “He’s afraid she’ll ground him.”
“Yes, miss.” Endicott bowed, then left.
“He winked at me,” Mollie said as she climbed the steps out of the pool.
“Endicott did?”
“Uh-huh. You had to be looking closely.”
“More closely than I was, I guess.” He swept the towels off the lounge chair and laid one over Mollie’s shoulders.
She tugged it closer, then sighed. “I don’t suppose we’ll be spending the evening playing charades with your parents.”
“I don’t suppose.”
“What will we do?”
“Plead exhaustion from jet lag and retire early.” He rubbed himself with his towel, then crouched in front of her and dried her legs.
Speechless for a moment, she laid a hand on his shoulder for balance. “How early?”
“Shall we synchronize our watches? How about nine o’clock?”
“Do you think they’ll decide we’ve gone to bed early so that we can, you know, sleep together?”
Gray heard the strain in her voice. She needed to know his intentions. He’d been vague with her, because so little was clear to him. He stood. “You have a vivid imagination, Mollie Shaw.”
“I’m putting two and two together, as I think they will.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “We haven’t even kissed.”
“Feel free to correct that situation.”
He touched a finger to her chin and angled his head, moving closer—
A quiet clearing of someone’s throat intruded into the anticipation. They looked toward the house at the same time. Endicott pointed to his watch, then disappeared through the doorway
“Our guardian angel,” Mollie said.
“Our Lucifer,” Gray muttered.
Eight
D
oused with a fresh spritz of perfume, Mollie waited an hour after they retired to their rooms before she finally gave up on Gray and went to bed. No knock on the adjoining door made her heart kick into overdrive. No turn of the handle sent her stomach somersaulting. She waited for a first kiss that never came. Apparently she would be made to wait until his next visit to Minneapolis, since the plan was for her to take a commercial flight home the next night, alone.
She closed her eyes, tired enough to sleep, but letting the anticipation drain from her mind and body. After a while she felt herself drifting Floating. Falling...
Click. The latch of a doorknob stopped her mid-flight. She kept her eyes closed, sensing him moving closer, but not hearing him. After a minute he pulled the sheet over her shoulders and tucked the fabric around her. She rolled onto her back, seeing him easily in the moon glow through her window. He wore sweatpants, but his chest was bare.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was awake.”
He sat beside her.
Freeing an arm from under the sheet, she wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Can’t you sleep?” She sat up, knowing her nightgown covered her as completely as a T-shirt. He couldn’t accuse her of tempting him.
He shook his head. “I haven’t been in this house for more than a few hours at a time since I moved out more than ten years ago. I had forgotten how silent it is.”
Silent. An interesting word choice, Mollie thought. Most people would have said
quiet.
“Your parents seem very settled”
“They’ve always been settled. No ups. No downs. No anger. No joy. Keep it cool. Stay calm. Be polite. I didn’t remember that until I brought you into it. And the reason I noticed is because being here changed you.”
“In what way?”
“Your brightness output dimmed.”
“I can’t say I’ve been completely at ease, Gray, but I haven’t felt stifled. You seem to be testing them, though. Seeing how far you can go.”
“Like some teenager,” he said, pushing himself off the bed, moving toward the window.
“You’re on a quest.”
“Is that a nice way of saying I’ve gone crazy?”
“No.” She watched him shove his hands into his pockets, recalling that he’d done the same thing when he’d greeted his parents.
Don’t touch.
She knew now where that warning had come from, how long he’d lived with it. She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him close. To comfort. To tell him everything would be all right
“You’re searching for something.” For the childhood you lost, Mollie thought, suddenly sure of it. “Something you miss. Your father?”
“When my mother married James, part of the deal was that he could adopt me, because he couldn’t have children of his own.” He rested his palms on the window frame and looked out at the night. “He nurtured my God-given talents. Gave me opprtunities I might not have had otherwise. I owe him.”
Nurtured? Nurturing meant caring, loving and showing affection. How could he think that James had nurtured him?
She and Gray couldn’t think more differently, Mollie decided, a fact that should have deterred her but didn’t. If anything, she cared even more deeply about him.
“You forfeited your father’s name and history, which hurt you.”
He angled a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “The way you feel about your mom is how I felt about my dad. He was the best. Good and kind. Fun-loving. He always had time for me. We did a lot together—fishing, playing ball, tinkering with the car. People came and went constantly at our house, stayed for meals. And he always tucked me in bed, kissed me good night.”
“That changed after your mother remarried.”
“More than you would believe. James has been good to me, although not the same as my dad. I do feel an obligation to him. He’s always treated me as his own.”
“Parents shouldn’t make their children feel obligated, Gray. They should just love them.”
He padded across the room and sat beside her, murmuring her name so softly and with such wonder that she could hardly breathe. “I don’t know what to do about you,” he said. “Everything is so clear to you.”
“Not always, but I’m a simple person, Gray, with simple needs.”
“I’m not.”
“I know that Something is tearing you up inside.” She knelt before him, needing to touch him, waiting for him to need her in the same way. She finally touched his clenched fist.
He reached for her, groaning her name, and then he kissed her.
She’d been kissed before, but not like this. Nothing like this. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her against him as he plundered her mouth, and only her mouth, in a kiss that went on forever, it seemed. Forever. He was her forever. She’d known it the minute he’d walked into her shop. Now her fate was sealed.
He lowered her to the bed, then flattened his body on hers, still kissing her, a beggar feasting at a banquet. He tasted hot and wild and hungry. She could feel him down low, hard, blissfully hard for her. Needing him closer she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched to meet him. He reared up, sucked in a harsh breath.
She wasn’t coherent. His mouth fastened on hers again, stopping the words she attempted, pulling new sounds from her that she didn’t recognize. His skin was moist under her hands as she dragged them down his back, feeling his muscles bunch. Nothing about him was soft—except his lips skimming her neck, then journeying slowly back up to her mouth. This wasn’t just a first kiss, but a lifetime kiss. Promise and fulfillment. Now and always. Nothing had prepared her for the escalating sensations, for her total abandonment, for the love that crushed her heart. Was it really possible to love someone that fast?
He dragged his mouth from hers, then held himself motionless, his breath ragged. Rolling onto his side, he cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against his chest, the gesture so tender, it made her eyes and throat burn. Love and joy and confusion bubbled inside her.
“You don’t do anything halfway,” she said, as he pulled her leg over his hip, bringing their lower bodies back in contact. She felt him, still flatteringly hard. “I didn’t know a kiss could feel like that. Could do all that to me.”
“You’ve been one surprise after another, as well,” Gray said in the understatement of the century. He’d been blindsided by her response—by the way she’d pushed her hips off the bed, not only meeting his but forcing a rhythm he’d had to break. Who would’ve guessed Miss Mollie Sunshine was combustible enough to shoot fire directly into his body?
Moving back a little, he grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her, needing to put a barrier between them, needing to defuse the urgency, to think about something else, something to ice down his need. “I have to go into the office tomorrow,” he said. “If you don’t mind coming with me, I can take care of the most essential business, then we can scout potential locations for the anniversary party.”
She took her time answering, as if his words were in a foreign language requiring translation. “You sure can turn it off as fast as you turn it on,” she grumbled, turning her back to him, flouncing a little.
He heard the blunt tone of voice, the accusation that lingered. She was wrong. He wanted her. Ached with wanting her. But he wouldn’t make love to her in his parents’ house.
He climbed out of the bed, once again wishing he’d taken her to his hotel, instead—and grateful he hadn’t. Had he really known her only five days?
When he reached the doorway, he turned. “Do you want me to leave the door open?”
“I’m not afraid of the dark.”
His mouth twitched at her indignant tone.
“I don’t have nightmares, either,” she continued, “so you don’t have to worry about coming in here in the middle of the night to comfort me.”
He grinned. Spamng with her had become the highlight of his life. “I’ll shut the door, then.” He grabbed the knob.
“It isn’t fair,” she complained.
“What isn’t?”
“You come in here and get me all riled up, then off you go, not a care in the world! You came, you kissed, you left.”
“I was as
riled up
as you. Men can’t hide that. What do you want from me, Mollie?”
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
The intricacies of her mind intrigued him. “Stopping was the right thing to do,” he said.
“I suppose. Good night.”
He didn’t lie down but stared out his bedroom window for a long tune, contemplating the hole he’d dug for himself. He’d pursued the downfall of Stuart Fortune without letting consequences block his path. Now Mollie sat squarely in the middle of the narrowing road. He couldn’t step over or around her on the final leg. She would need to be beside him.
Hell, he needed her, too. When the end came, they might have
only
each other, all bridges burned behind them.
Only each other. Something of my own.
The phrases danced a bit, then mingled. Merged. Burned.
Finally he slept.
 
“Marry me.”
The air between Gray and Mollie snapped and crackled. They were seated in his car at the private airstrip where they’d landed the day before. It was 6:00 p.m. He’d canceled her commercial flight home in the middle of the night when he’d come to his decision to propose.
“What?” Mollie asked, her voice filled with the same shock reflected on her face.
He was amazed at his calmness. Everything was clear now. Stuart Fortune had to fall, but his tumble would throw Mollie’s life into a tailspin. She would need protection from the inevitable pain and disillusionment ahead of her when she learned that Stuart was her father—and protection was something Gray could provide. When the press moved in, he would build a fort around her, keeping her safe, something her father should have done.
But marriage is for life.
Yeah. So?
“Marry me,” he said, more insistently, ignoring the voice in his head. “We can stop in Las Vegas on the way back to Minneapolis.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Serious, sober and not asking out of sexual frustration, in case you’re wondering. Although that’s part of it.” If she needed coaxing, he would coax. But she was alone in the world and earned barely enough to support herself. She could accept his proposal for security and companionship, if nothing else, as his mother had with his stepfather. Experience had taught Gray that marriage wasn’t only for the love-struck. Other reasons mattered She wanted a family so much she could taste it. She’d said so.
“I can’t leave you alone, I admit that. We rile each other up, and the tension will become unbearable. But there’s more, Molhe. It feels right. Everything about it feels right.”
She stared at him for a long time. “I need to think about this,” she said, finally, her voice strained.
“Take your time. I’ll take the luggage to the plane.”
Mollie watched him walk away from the car a minute later, a suitcase in each hand. He disappeared into the jet, not looking back, not hesitating. Exactly how much time did she have to make this life-altering decision?
She should have insisted on knowing his reasons other than that it “feels right.” Why hadn’t she asked why he proposed?
Do you really want the answer to that?
She entwined her fingers. Maybe not. She was more than a little in love with him, but he hadn’t mentioned the word—although he probably couldn’t verbalize it anyway, given his upbringing. He hardly touched her beyond what courtesy required, unless they were kissing. She rubbed her temples, concentrating on the bigger picture.
Surely he wouldn’t propose marriage, a lifetime commitment, without loving her a little?
Hopeless romantic
The words taunted her. She pushed her hair out of her face, then rested her hands against the back of her neck. There was no one in her life to object or consent to the marriage. Except for the fact they’d known each other less than a week, she couldn’t think of any reason to say no. Some explanation existed for why she’d obsessed about his photograph in the newspaper. And there was some rationalization for why he’d come so coincidentally into her life. Maybe there was such a thing as destiny. Or maybe angels could assist mortals, after all.
It could be that he’d been sent to her specifically so that his life would change from something sterile and all-business to one of warmth and affection and love, which he seemed to be starving for A lot of people recognized his analytical and brilliant mind, his power and status. But had anyone recognized how lonely he was? Or were his eyes mirrors reflecting her own loneliness, her own hunger for someone to love and for someone to love her. Her need to raise her own family—with both a mother and father.
She wanted to belong to him, body and soul. She wanted the right to touch him, to hold him, to be held
BOOK: The Groom's Revenge
2.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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