White Lace and Promises (8 page)

He glanced up expectantly. “What’s that?”

“Clothes,” she said, and giggled. They had been so afraid to leave each other for fear something would happen to change their minds that they hadn’t even stopped to pack an overnight bag.

“We’re not going to need them.” In that instant, Glenn realized that they weren’t going to wait. He wanted her. She wanted him; it was in her eyes and the provocative way she regarded
him. “We have two days,” he murmured, “and I can’t see any need we’ll be having for clothes.”

He was so utterly serious that laughter rumbled in her throat. Where there had once been anxiety there was expectancy. “Maybe we could get away with that sort of thing on the Riviera, but believe me, they arrest people for walking around nude in Reno.”

Smiling, he tipped back his head and emptied his glass. “You know what I mean.”

Maggie set their champagne glasses aside. “No,” she said breathlessly as she lightly stroked the neatly trimmed hair at his temple. “I think you’ll have to show me.”

Gently, Glenn laid her back on the bed and joined her so the upper portion of his body was positioned over the top of hers. His arms went around her, pressing her to his hard strength until her breasts strained against him. “I have every intention of doing exactly that.”

His lips left hers to investigate her ear before tracing their way back across her cheek and reclaiming her mouth.

Maggie buried her face in the hollow of his throat, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his busy hands fumbled with the effort to locate the tiny buttons at the back of her dress. Every place his fingers grazed her skin, a glowing warmth spread. Again, Maggie opened her mouth to explore the strong cord of his neck, savoring his salty-tasting skin. She heard the harsh intake of his breath when she pulled his dress shirt free and stroked his muscular back.

“Oh, Glenn,” she whispered when she didn’t think she could stand it anymore. Her shoulders were heaving when he lifted his weight from her.

He rolled onto his back, and she heard him release a harsh breath. “Maggie.” His voice was thick and husky. “Listen, are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered, and switched positions so that now it was she who was sprawled half atop him. “Glenn, I’m so sure it hurts.”

“Maggie, oh Maggie.” He repeated her name again and again in a broken whisper.

She’d spent a lifetime searching for him when all along he’d been so close and she hadn’t known.

His arms crushed her then, and his mouth passionately sought hers with a greedy need that seemed to want to devour her. He took; she surrendered. He gave; she received. They were starved for each other and the physical love their bodies could share. With her arms wrapped securely around him, Maggie met his hunger with her own. When he half lifted her from the mattress she was trembling.

“Glenn,” she whispered brokenly. “Oh Glenn, don’t ever let me go.”

“Never,” he promised, sitting on the edge of the bed with her cradled in his lap. “This is forever.” His words were a vow. Carefully, in order not to tear her dress, his fingers released each tiny button at the back of her gown. As each one was freed, he pressed his lips to the newly exposed skin.

“Forever,” she repeated, and twisted so she could work loose the tuxedo tie and the buttons to the his shirt. She pulled the shirt free of his shoulders and slid her hand down his chest to his tightening abdomen.

“Maggie,” he warned hoarsely.

“Love me,” she whispered. “Oh Glenn, make me your wife.”

Her fingers clutched frantically at his thick, dark hair as he continued to stroke her breast.

All too soon, she was on fire for him. Consumed with desire, lost in a primitive world, aware of nothing but the desperate need he awoke within her.

Moving quickly, he laid her on the mattress and eased his body over hers.

The loving was exquisite and when they’d finished, a long moment passed before he gathered her in his arms. He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. Lying cradled in his embrace, their legs entwined, Maggie closed her eyes and released a contented sigh.

“It was beautiful,” she whispered, still overcome with emotion.

Glenn kissed the top of her head. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” she added quickly. “Oh Glenn, we’re going to have such a good life.”

“Yes,” he agreed and kissed her forehead.

Maggie snuggled closer against him and kissed the nape of his neck when he reached down to cover them with the sheet and blanket.

Glenn held her close, kissing the crown of her head until her eyes closed sleepily. Her last thought as she drifted into the welcoming comfort of slumber was of warmth and security.

Maggie woke a couple of times in the darkest part of the night, unaccustomed to sharing her bed. Each time she experienced the unexpected thrill of finding Glenn asleep at her side. No longer was she alone. Her joy was so great that she felt like she was ten years old again, waking up on Christmas morning.

She cuddled him spoon fashion, pressing her softness to his backside. Her body fit perfectly to his. Edging her hand over his muscular ribs, she felt his strength and knew that this
man was as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. She had chosen her life mate well. Content, she drifted back to sleep.

A low, grumbling sound woke her when morning light splashed into the room from the small crack between the closed draperies. Sitting up, Maggie yawned and raised her arms high above her head. She was ravenous and pressed a hand to her stomach to prevent her rumbling from waking Glenn. A menu for room service sat by the phone, and Maggie reached for it, studying its contents with interest, wondering if it would wake him if she ordered anything.

Glenn stirred and rolled onto his back, still caught in the last dregs of sleep. Gloriously happy, Maggie watched as a lazy smile grew on his face. Pride swelled in her heart as she realized their lovemaking was responsible for his look of blessed contentment. Maybe she wasn’t so hungry after all.

Her long, tangled hair fell forward as she leaned down to press her lips to his. As she drew near, he whispered something. At first Maggie couldn’t understand his words, then she froze. Stunned, her hand flew to her breast at the unexpected pain that pierced her. The arctic chill extended all the way to her heart and she squeezed her eyes closed to fight back the burning tears. Choking on humiliation, she struggled to untangle herself from the sheet. Her frantic movements woke Glenn from the nether land of sleep to the world of consciousness.

He turned on his side and reached for her hand. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully. At the sight of her stricken face, he paused and rose to a full sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

“The name is Maggie,” she whispered fiercely, shoving his hand away. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m your wife as well.”

T
ugging the sheet loose from the mattress, Maggie climbed out of bed. Her hands were shaking so badly that she had trouble twisting the material around her.

Glenn had mistaken her for another woman. A woman he had obviously once loved and apparently still did. Holding the sheet together with one hand, she sorted through the tangled mess of clothes on the floor. The tightness in her chest was so painful she could barely breathe. The room swayed beneath her feet and she closed her eyes, struggling to maintain her balance and her aplomb. Everything had been so beautiful. So perfect. How readily she had fallen into the fantasy, believing in each minute with a childlike innocence and trust. She’d been living in a twenty-four-hour dreamworld. That fantasy had been shattered by the reality of morning and she was shamed to the very marrow of her bones.

Glenn wiped a hand over his face and struggled to a sitting position. He vaguely recalled the contented pleasure of sleeping with a warm body at his side. In his sleep he must have confused Maggie with Angie. He cursed Angie for haunting him in his marriage.

Straightening, she turned to regard him coolly before speaking. “Enough.”
More than enough
, her mind shouted. Clenching the sheet in one hand, her clothes in the other, she marched across the floor, her head tilted at a stately angle. She’d never felt more like crying in her life. Her pride and dignity remained intact, but little else was as it should be.

Once inside the bathroom, she leaned against the heavy door, her shoulders sagging. Covering her face with both hands in hurt and frustration, she let the sheet slip to the floor. Equal doses of anger and misery descended on her until she was convinced she’d slump under the force of their weight. She didn’t know what do, but taking a bath seemed important.

“Maggie.” Glenn stood on the other side of the door, his voice low and confused. “At least talk to me.”

“No,” she shouted, still reeling from the shock. “I don’t want to talk. I’ve heard enough to last me a lifetime.” Forcing herself into action, she turned on the faucet and filled the tub with steaming hot water. She had been a fool to believe in yesterday’s illusions. The morning had
shattered the dream—only she didn’t want it to end. Glenn was someone she had thought she could trust. In her heart she knew that he wouldn’t be like all the rest.

“Maggie, for the love of heaven, give me a chance to explain.”

Sliding into the steaming bath, Maggie bit into her bottom lip and forced herself to think. She could demand that they divorce, but she didn’t want that, and Glenn didn’t, either. For twelve hours she had been a happily married woman. Somehow Maggie had to find a way to stretch twelve hours into a lifetime.

In the other room, Glenn dressed slowly, his thoughts oppressive. Things couldn’t be worse. From the moment Maggie had met him at the airport he had seen how reserved and untrusting her inheritance had made her. Now he had hurt her, and he silently cursed himself for doing the very thing he vowed he never would. He could still see her stricken eyes glaring down at him when he woke. He had wanted to take her in his arms and explain, but she’d jumped from the bed as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. Not that he blamed her. The worst part was that he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. Angie had been an integral part of his life for nearly two years. He had cast her from his thoughts with an all-consuming effort, but he had no control over the ramblings of his mind while he slept. He stroked his fingers through his hair and heaved a disgusted sigh. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t allow it to ruin this marriage. Somehow he’d find a way to make it up to Maggie.

The bathroom door opened and Glenn turned anxiously. He studied Maggie’s face for evidence of tears and found none. He had forgotten what a strong woman she was and admired her all the more. He vividly recalled the time she was fifteen and broke her arm skateboarding. She’d been in intense pain. Anyone else would have been screaming like a banshee, but not Maggie. She had gritted her teeth, but hadn’t shed a tear. He also remembered how the only person she had trusted to help her had been him. The guilt washed over him in dousing waves.

“Can we talk now?” he asked her gently.

“I think we should,” she said, pacing, because standing in one spot seemed an impossible task. “We need to make some rules in this marriage, Glenn.”

“Anything,” he agreed.

“The first thing you have to do is stop loving that other woman right now. This minute.” Her voice trembled, and she battled for control.

Glenn felt physically ill. Maggie was unnaturally pale, her cheeks devoid of color. Her
dark, soulful eyes contained a sorrow he longed to erase, and yet he knew he couldn’t. His thoughts were in turmoil. “You know I’d never lie to you.”

“Yes.” Glenn might be a lot of things, she knew, but a liar wasn’t one of them.

“Maggie, I want this marriage to work, but what you’re asking me to do is going to be hard.”

A tingling sensation went through her that left her feeling numb and sick. She wouldn’t share this man—not even with a memory.

“In that case,” she murmured and swallowed, “I’ve got some thinking to do.” She turned from him and started toward the door.

“Maggie.” Glenn stopped her, and she turned around. Their eyes met and held. “You don’t want a divorce, do you?”

The word hit Maggie with all the impact of a freight train. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I may be mad, Glenn Lambert, but I’m not stupid.”

The door made an echoing sound that bounced off the walls as Maggie left the hotel room. Glenn felt his tense shoulder muscles relax. It had taken everything in him to ask her about a divorce. That was the last thing he wanted, but he felt he had to know where Maggie stood after what had happened that morning.

The curious stares that met Maggie as she stepped off the elevator convinced her that the first thing she had to do was buy something to wear that was less ostentatious. A wrinkled pink maid-of-honor gown would cause more than a few heads to turn, and the last thing Maggie wanted was attention. In addition, she couldn’t demand that her husband give up his affection for another woman and love and care for her instead, when she looked like something the cat left on the porch.