Wife by Wednesday (13 page)

Hips rocking, he forced his release back, waiting for the moment Samantha plunged over the cliff. When she did, she called out his name and strained closer, her body pulsating him in a tight cocoon. Blake released the tight hold on his control and followed her into heaven.

****

The weight of Blake’s body pressed her into the sofa, his breathing as ragged as hers. She stretched her leg and ran it down the backside of his. She couldn’t stop smiling. Even when the tremors of pleasure simmered to a twitch, she held him close.

Yeah, like she could have said no to this. And to think, she’d have access to his amazing body and sexual talents for an entire year. The eventual end to their relationship made her pause, but she pushed the images of saying goodbye away and focused on the scent and feel of the man still buried inside her body.

“That was—”

“Incredible,” he finished.

Was it for him? He’d had more lovers than her by far. Hell, she could count hers on one hand and still have three fingers left over. But Blake, he’d have score sheets to compare notes. She wanted to ask but her own insecurities stopped her.

“What’s that look,” he asked, staring down at her face.

“What look?”

“The one of uncertainty, the one you have whenever you tell me you’re too short or some such nonsense.”

Theirs was a relationship based on honesty, but how much could she ask and not sound like a needy, emotional fool. “Was it? Incredible for you?”

“Samantha,” he said on a breath. He lifted a hand to her face and stroked her chin with the back of his finger. His hips were still planted firmly against hers. “Do you notice how well your body fits against mine?”

Her breasts were flush with his chest, her legs wrapped around his hips. Their lips so close she could taste him still. “Yes.”

“You’re perfect. More passionate than I ever imagined. And although I’m beyond satisfied right now, I don’t think I’m finished with you tonight. This,” he kissed her softly as he spoke, “is the start of a wonderful thing.”

Well, he certainly knew how to make a woman smile, even after her orgasm.

Blake unfolded from her arms long enough to stand. Then he picked her up and started walking from the room.

Samantha glanced at the floor with horror. “Blake, our clothes.”

He chuckled, ignored her words, and carried her up the stairs to his room where he made good on his earlier threat.

****

By the time she’d made it downstairs the following day, it was late morning. Their clothes had been cleaned up, the dishes done. A picture of the two of them caught in the act of making love would have been the only thing plainer than the message left for the staff to find. Her face was hot with embarrassment and she lowered her gaze every time she passed Mary or Louisa the next day. The women were terribly polite. In fact, Samantha would have rather they nudge her arm and give her a thumbs up than act as if they cleaned up after Blake and his lovers every week.

As it was, Samantha broached the subject of previous lovers to Blake as they packed their clothes. “So, Blake,” she started all-innocent like. “Tell me, will I find any remnants of lovers past hidden in any of your dressers?”

He stopped and stood to stare at her, but she didn’t skip a step while packing. After all, she was the one who needed to pack clothes. Blake had all he needed on two continents.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know… did Vanessa have a drawer of her own here, or Jacqueline?”

His stare bored holes into her back, but she refused to look him in the eye. She shouldn’t care, but she wanted to know if he entertained his lovers in his home often.

“I never found anyone drawer-worthy,” he told her.

Well, that was something. “Not even one panty left behind?”

She kept packing, not looking his way.
I’m pathetic.

“Samantha?” He’d moved to stand behind her. His hands reached out and touched both her shoulders to turn her toward him. His grey eyes caught hers. “I’ve only had this home for four years. You’re the only woman who’s slept in my bed.”

An inner smile blossomed deep in her chest but she held it from spreading over her lips, not wanting him to see how much his words pleased her.

Samantha nodded.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Would it bother you if there had been a drawer full of another woman’s things?”

It shouldn’t. Three weeks ago, they were strangers. “Well, I guess not…”
Hell, yes.

“Samantha?” Her name was drawn out in a slow knowing slide.

“Okay, yes,” she confessed. “Because…” She searched for a valid excuse and found one within easy reach. “Your staff will think better of me, or us… as a couple, if I’m not just a number here at the house.”

Pathetic.
She shouldn’t be trying to be more than a number. She should, however, be trying to build barriers around her heart, her feelings, and avoiding any emotional attachment to the man staring deep in her eyes.

“You’re not a number, Samantha. If you ever feel like the staff here, or in Europe, are treating you otherwise, you need to let me know.”

She shook her head. “Everyone’s been wonderful.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed briefly, as if trying to solve a riddle, then he turned away to finish his minimal packing.

When she turned back to her suitcase, she allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips. It was wrong of her to romanticize what was happening between them. They were only having a mutually satisfying sexual relationship and just happened to be married. No big deal.

“So, Samantha?” Blake forced his way into her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever had any drawer-worthy men in your life?”

Her hand hesitated. “No.” Was the short answer to her lack of a personal life.

They continued packing.

“Any recent boyfriends who might knock on the door?”

Samantha slid a glance over her shoulders. Blake had his back to her while he fiddled with something in his hand. Okay, so her husband was curious about her past. It wasn’t as if hers was splattered all over the tabloid news like his.

“The boyfriend well has been dry for some time,” she offered.

“How dry?” he asked as the last word left her lips.

She turned and waited for him to feel her eyes and return her stare.

“When my father went to jail, I didn’t allow myself to get close to anyone.”

“You were twenty one when your dad was convicted.”

“Right.”

“There’s been no one since…”

“None.”

He pondered that for a minute, gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “So that means…”

“I’ve had two lovers besides you,” she gave him, knowing that was where this conversation was going. It was strange, knowing exactly where his thoughts were. “One in high school, because everyone goes to senior prom, and another in college.” The one who twisted her mind in two and ruined her trust in men.

There must have been something that crossed her face, because Blake dropped the questions and walked toward her again.

“Call it a male thing, but I like knowing I’m in a very exclusive list.”

Thoughts of her college years, of the turmoil and pain of that time were hard to push away. She forced a smile on her lips and a flip comment from her tongue. “Well, if a girl can’t sleep with her husband, who can she sleep with?”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”

He started to turn away, but a wedge had somehow formed between them. “Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“I like knowing I’m the only one who’s been here.”

Silence stretched before them. Both staring at each other and saying nothing. When Blake turned back to his task, Samantha finished hers.

The advantages to a private jet were sweeter with a woman. Making love mid-flight, and finding a few hours of sleep, should have left them both rested and relaxed as they made their descent. Sadly, he could sense Samantha’s unease and did everything in his power to distract her.

He booked a night at a hotel near the airport, with intentions of joining his family at Albany the following day.

His family had other ideas.

The jet landed in the early morning hours, although for Samantha and Blake, it was very late in the evening. Blake could tell by Sam wrestling her hands that her nerves were on high alert.

He kept his arm around Sam’s shoulders as they stepped out of the jet. At his suggestion, she’d slipped into a comfortable pair of worn jeans and a long sleeve shirt. “No need to dress for the driver of the car,” he’d told her, assuring her they would have time to sleep, shower, and dress properly before facing anyone of importance.

Yet when the car he’d ordered pulled up alongside the plane, and the back door opened, his mother’s high-heeled foot stopped both Blake and Samantha cold.

“You said we weren’t expecting anyone at the airport,” she hissed between thin lips.

“We aren’t.”

There was no denying his mother’s frame as she slid from the back seat of the limousine. The driver held an umbrella over her head to keep the droplets of rain from ruining what a hairdresser had probably spent hours creating.

Despite her previous, horrible marriage, Linda Harrison could have passed for a woman ten years her junior. Dark umber hair was pulled gracefully back under a stylish hat. The long grey coat covered what Blake knew would be a slim-fitting skirt and blouse. His mother always dressed to perfection. Even though the sun was hidden under a thick layer of clouds, his mother wore a pair of large rimmed sunglasses to hide her eyes and the feelings she might reveal under them.

“Then who’s that?”

Blake swallowed. If there was one thing he’d learned about his wife, it was her insecurity. Despite all her ‘shake her fist at you’ attitude, Samantha had an underlying desire to be accepted.

He knew, without a doubt, that his suggestion for her to change out of her silk pantsuit and into comfortable clothes was going to snap him in the ass later.

“That’s my mother.”

Sam’s steps faltered, but Blake kept her moving by the steady pressure of his hand on her back.

“But…”

“Mum?” Blake removed his hand from Samantha’s back long enough to kiss both his mother’s cheeks. “We weren’t expecting you.” His tone was light, but he hoped he relayed his discontent.

“I couldn’t let you and your bride arrive without a welcome.”

Blake returned to Samantha’s side and pushed her forward. “Samantha, my mother, Linda. Mum, I’d like you to meet my wife, Samantha.”

His mother let a smile lift her lips. “A pleasure,” she said, raising her hand to Samantha’s.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so? I’ve heard nearly nothing about you.”

Samantha stiffened beside him and Blake quickly stepped between the two women. “We’re here to fix that,” he told his mother. “You didn’t have to meet us here. You know how long the flight is from the States.”

Linda patted Blake’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to rest in flight.”

“We’ve been very busy up until our trip, as I’m sure you can imagine. We’re looking forward to a few hours sleep.”

His mother glanced at the driver holding the umbrella over her head and then to the car. “Then we should get you home to do so.”

Blake felt his control starting to snap. The worse part was that Samantha said absolutely nothing. She simply stared between the two of them, lips sealed. “I’ve arranged a room at The Plaza.”

“That’s silly—“

“Mother!” He’d had enough.

“Linda? You don’t mind if I call you Linda, do you?” Samantha had found her voice.

“Of course not, dear.”

“Good. As you can see, I’m in desperate need of a shower, and some sleep. I hope you’ll be so kind as to wait our departure to Albany once Blake and I have had the opportunity to put some of that nasty jet-lag behind us.” Samantha’s tone and words were more formal than Blake had ever heard uttered previously from her lips.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Samantha grasped onto Blake’s arm and leaned into him. “It really is nice of you to greet me here. You’ve no idea what that means to me.”

Again, Blake was at a loss for words. He led his wife and mother into the back of the car and joined them.

The second the car door closed, Samantha snuggled closer to Blake’s side. “That is a lovely coat,” Sam told his mother.

“T-Thank you.”

“I hope you’ll tell me where you got it. I’m afraid I’ve nothing like it and from the looks of the sky, I’ll need something like it for my trip.”

“Of course. We’ll have plenty of time to shop.”

Blake’s worry over his mother’s untimely arrival started to fade. “My wife and my mother shopping. Should I be worried?” he teased.