Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 72

Five

“I didn’t let anything slip to Mom and Dad,” Gina was saying. “But, I know there’s more to this whole sudden wedding thing than you’re telling.”

Rita glanced past her sister to the people in the private dining room. Sure that no one could overhear, she said, “Okay, yes. There is more. Thanks for not saying anything, and I’ll tell you about it at some point, I promise. Just... I can’t right now and I don’t want Mom and Dad worrying.”

“I know how to keep a secret.” Gina’s eyes narrowed on her. “So I’ll stay quiet. But I’m warning you, Rita, if he’s a jerk, I expect you to tell me so I can kick him.”

Rita laughed a little as relief trickled through her. She had enough on her mind and heart at the moment without worrying about her family worrying about her. Gina was always as good as her word. If she said she’d keep a secret, nothing and no one would be able to pry it out of her.

If her family knew she’d gotten married with the promise of a quickie divorce looming, there would no doubt be hell to pay. As it was, her brothers kept giving Jack a hard eye like they’d prefer to take him outside and deal with the man who’d left their sister pregnant and alone. But her parents at least were believing Rita’s story of finding Jack and the two of them reigniting the love between them.

If only, Rita thought with an internal sigh.

“I promise. But, I might kick him myself before you get the chance.”

“I can live with that,” Gina said, sipping on a mimosa in a crystal champagne flute.

While her sister was quiet, Rita had a minute to think about her wedding day. The ceremony had been small, just hers and Jack’s families on a roped-off area of the beach. The early June weather of dark skies and cool winds had kept the beach mostly deserted, so it had been intimate in spite of being so public.

When they exchanged vows, Rita remembered looking deeply into Jack’s eyes and for one brief moment, she’d seen that quick glimpse of her Jack hidden inside him again. And that gave her hope. Maybe there was a way to reach him. To actually reignite what they’d shared so briefly six months ago.

Their kiss at the end of the ceremony had started off perfunctory, but after a split second, it was as if Jack had forgotten that they were putting on a show. He’d pulled her in to him and cradled her against his body as his mouth took hers in a slow, seductive kiss that had nearly blown Rita’s short veil right off her head.

If there was that between them still, that heat, that magic, couldn’t there be more? Heat didn’t exist in a vacuum. Emotions, feelings, had to be there, too, right?

Was she being deliberately foolish? Probably. But if you didn’t try, you couldn’t win. If you didn’t ask, the answer was always no.

“You’re thinking.”

“That’s a bad thing?” she asked, a small smile curving her mouth.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Gina admitted. She half turned to look at Jack, across the room, standing somewhat apart from everyone else. “He’s gorgeous, I give you that. But he doesn’t seem the sociable type. Won’t that drive you nuts?”

Rita shook her head. “No, I talk enough for both of us.”

“True.” Gina laughed.

“You know, he wasn’t like this when we first met,” Rita said quietly. “Oh, he never talked as much as I do, but he was warmer. Less...closed down. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You’re doing pretty well,” Gina said thoughtfully, studying the man they were talking about.

“Gina, the thing is, every once in a while,” Rita continued, “I see the real Jack hiding behind his eyes.”

Her sister gave her a cool look. “And you think you can bring him out of hiding?”

“If not me, who?” Rita asked. “If there’s a chance, I have to try.”

Gina dropped one arm around her shoulders. “Sweetie, sometimes people are hiding for a reason.”

She might be right, Rita acknowledged. But if she didn’t find out for sure, the what-if would haunt her forever. “But what if that reason can be dealt with? Fought?”

“Oh, God,” Gina murmured, shaking her head. “You’re trying to save him, aren’t you?”

Was she? Oh, Rita didn’t like the sound of that. How many times had she seen friends fall for a guy with “issues” and then try to fix him? Get him to change. Help him deal with his demons? Is that what she was doing?

No, she argued with herself silently. This was different. Jack was different. Something specific had happened to him and whatever it was had affected him deeply. Even if it was because of what they’d once had, or the fact that they’d created a child together... Didn’t Rita owe it to him to at least make the attempt to help him?

“Is that so wrong?” She looked at her sister, really curious to hear what she had to say.

“No, I guess not,” Gina said, resignation clear in her tone. “If it’s something you feel like you have to do, there’s no stopping you anyway. Just make sure you don’t lose yourself in the effort.”

“I won’t,” Rita said and knew that keeping her promise wasn’t going to be easy. Because in spite of everything that had happened between them, Jack was the one man in the world who could still cause her pain.

“Uh-oh,” Gina said suddenly, “I’ve gotta go save Jimmy. Mom’s just dropped Kira into his lap, so he’s got all four kids and is seriously outnumbered.”

Rita smiled on cue, but she wasn’t thinking about her brother-in-law. Her thoughts were with Jack, standing apart and alone at his own wedding. Backlit by the light flooding in through the wall of windows he stood in front of, he looked so solitary, it broke her heart.

He’d done all he could to make this faux marriage beautiful for her. From the ceremony itself to this family reception. The Queen Mary was a beautiful old ship and this private dining room in its five-star restaurant was old-world elegant. Windows lined both sides of the ship and she imagined that when the old ocean liner was still sailing, the views were incredible.

Where Jack stood, there was a sweeping vista of the sea and other boats bobbing on the surface. The sun had finally broken through the clouds and slanted off the water like gold dust. But Jack was silhouetted, defining his aloneness, and that tore at Rita.

“We’re staying in town for a few days,” Gina was saying. “As long as we’re here, figured we’d take the kids to Disneyland.”

Rita glanced at her. “They’ll love it.”

“Yep,” Gina mused. “Hope Jimmy and I survive it.” She grabbed Rita’s hand and squeezed. “If you need me for anything, call me. I’ll be there.”

“I know,” she said, returning that squeeze briefly. “Thanks, Gina. I’m gonna be fine.”

As Gina moved away, Rita heard her own words echo in her mind and she hoped she was right. Because at the moment, her heart was aching for the man who’d cut himself off. He’d gone to so much trouble for her, but he wasn’t being a part of this at all. Even in the heart of his family, he was determinedly alone. That didn’t equate with everything he’d told her about his family when they met. Back then, he’d laughed at the stories of fishing trips with his father and brother, of his sister being outwitted by her five-year-old daughter, of how devastated their family had been when they’d lost Jack’s mother.

Now, though, it was as if his family wasn’t even in the same room with him. She’d seen his father, brother and sister try to connect with him and eventually give up. She’d watched Jack keep to the sidelines as if punishing himself, somehow. Rita didn’t have the first clue how to go about reaching him, but she knew she had to try. Because if there was even a tiny chance she could find her Jack, it would be worth the effort.

Smiling and nodding to her family as she passed, Rita walked to Jack. He was staring out at the ocean and Rita came up right beside him.

He didn’t look at her, but he must have sensed her presence. “Everything all right?”

“It’s fine,” she said, staring up at his profile, waiting for some flicker of—she didn’t even know what. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He turned his head then and looked down at her. She felt that stare sizzle in her blood. One look from him and she burned.

“Yeah,” he said finally, quietly. “I’m just not good in a crowd of people.”

His words, so simply stated, tugged at her heart as she realized just how important this marriage must have been to him. He’d dropped himself into a situation that would make him uncomfortable because this meant something to him. He’d stood up against what plagued him to make sure she had what she needed at the wedding. He’d brought her family in, and seen to it that everything was beautiful for her in spite of his own misgivings. Just another sign to Rita that her Jack was in there somewhere. That only strengthened her resolve to discover what had happened to change the man she’d once thought was her one and only.

But today, she only wanted to be here. With him. To let him know he wasn’t alone, even if that’s what he believed he wanted. Going on instinct, she slid her hand into his and was rewarded when his fingers curled around hers and held tight.

* * *

Jack lay wide awake in bed, alone on his wedding night.

Rita was down the hall in the penthouse guestroom and he couldn’t tear his mind away from the image of her. His whole body ached for her, just as it had from the first moment he’d met her.

No other woman had ever affected him as she had. While he was overseas, he’d worked on convincing himself that what he’d felt with her was nothing special. He’d had to, just to survive. Clinging to the real world and the memories of a woman with a warm heart, soft body and wild, raw laugh had only made his reality that much harder to endure.

Then, when everything went to hell one afternoon, Jack had sliced every emotion out of his life because it was imperative to survival. He hadn’t written to her because he couldn’t lie to her about what was going on and he couldn’t have told her the truth. He didn’t look for her when he came back because he was in no shape to be around anyone. And because by then, he knew he could never again be the man she had once known.

“But Fate’s a nasty bitch,” he muttered into the darkness. His own voice seemed to echo, low and harsh in the empty room.

The gods of irony had conspired against him. He’d put so much effort into avoiding her that the gods laughed and threw her in his path, making it impossible to ignore her. And now they were married.

Shaking his head, he draped one arm across his eyes to dim the moonlight spearing into his bedroom. He had the terrace doors open, because he couldn’t stand to be closed in. He needed that swirl of air, even when it was cold. Needed to smell the sea, remind himself that he was here. Home. And not in that hot, desperate situation that had nearly driven him over the edge.

His room was big, with a black-and-white-tiled gas hearth on one wall, bookcases and a television on the other walls. There were chairs, tables and a bed that was so big it felt even emptier than it actually was.

“My choice,” he reminded himself and gritted his teeth against the roiling heat and tension coiled inside him.

It would be so easy to go down the hall, walk into her room and relive a few memories. Make some new ones. No guarantee she’d let him in, but then he remembered how she’d held his hand at the reception. As if she’d known, somehow sensed, that he’d needed that touch to ground himself in the moment.

She was good like that, he thought. Always had been. They’d connected so deeply in one week that it had been almost like they could read each other’s minds. He hoped to hell she couldn’t pick up on his thoughts now, but back then, it was different.

He was there the next morning to pick her up at seven, as agreed. She was in the lobby, waiting for him, clearly as eager as he was for them to be together again. Just seeing her in her jeans and dark green sweater had made his mouth water.

When she smiled at him, he went hard as stone and damn near killed himself just trying to walk across the floor toward her. Then she reached out for him, took his hand and he was lost in need, heat, a fire that built with every breath.

They had breakfast on the beach, coffee and bagels shared over laughter and a breathless sense of expectation. Looking into her whiskey-brown eyes was mesmerizing. Intoxicating. On that deserted winter beach, they were alone in the world but for one or two hardy surfers out challenging the waves.

Hands linked, they walked along the beach for what felt like miles, then they hiked back to the car and drove down the coast. Music pumping, wind roaring through the open windows and the two of them, still holding hands, as if unable to bear not touching.

Two hours later they were in San Diego and stopping for lunch at a tiny inn outside La Jolla. The once-dignified old Victorian mansion clung to the cliffside and waves pounded against the rocks in a steady, rhythmic heartbeat.

“It’s beautiful here,” Rita said, letting her gaze slide across the water, the cliffs and the meticulously tended gardens.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his gaze locked on her. With the wind in her hair and the winter sun shining in her eyes, Jack thought he’d never seen anything more lovely. And he knew if he didn’t kiss her soon, it would kill him.

“You’re not even looking at the view,” she chided with a half smile.

“Depends on what you consider a great view.” He snaked one hand across the small round table and covered hers. He felt her pulse pounding in time with the relentless sea and knew that beat matched his own, too.

She licked her lips and he fought to breathe. She curled her hand beneath his and the heat that blossomed between them should have set the grounds on fire.

Her gaze locked with his. “What’s happening here?” she asked, her voice nearly lost in the wind and the roar of the waves.

“Whatever it is, I’m all for it,” he admitted and stroked his thumb across her palm. Her eyes glazed over and her breath quickened.

“Oh, I am, too.”

“You’re making me crazy, Rita. Couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about you. About today. About...”

She pulled in a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinking about...too.”

Oh, yeah. If he didn’t have her soon, he was a walking dead man. He’d never make that two-or three-hour drive home with his body and mind so entangled with nothing but thoughts of her. All he could think of was touching her, stroking her skin, sliding his body into hers and being surrounded by her heat.

“You know, maybe we should book a room here at the inn. Neither one of us slept much last night. We could get some sleep before that long drive back up to Orange County.”

Her tongue slipped out again to slide across her bottom lip and his gaze tracked that motion as if his life depended on it. Fire, he thought. It felt like he was burning up from the inside and if his body got any harder, he’d have to crawl from the table because walking would be impossible.

Nodding, she said, “That’s probably a good idea. A nap, I mean. Tired drivers can be dangerous.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Safety first.”

Her smile was fleeting, but brilliant, taking his breath away. “I’ll see if they’ve got a room where we can...rest. Just wait here.”

When he stood up, Rita took his hand and squeezed. “Okay, I’ll wait. But hurry. I’m really tired.”

That was all the encouragement Jack needed.

In ten minutes, they were entering their room on the second floor. Jack swept her up close to him, kicked the door closed and gave the dead bolt a fast turn. She laughed up into his face and he felt something inside him turn over. She was more than he’d ever had. More than he’d ever thought to find. And for now, she was all his.

“Oh,” she said, tearing her gaze from his to give the room a quick look. “Isn’t it lovely?”

He hadn’t noticed. Now he did. White lace curtains at the windows, a brass bed with a detailed flower quilt across the mattress. There were two chairs before a tiny hearth outlined in sea-blue tiles and a table held a carafe of water and two glasses. There was a door that led to a private bath and photographs of old San Diego dotted the pale gold walls.

He supposed it was very nice, though it could have been a cave for all he cared. “Yeah,” he said tightly, not caring about the room.

When she looked up at him again, she gave him a knowing smile. “Ready to nap?”

“More than you know.”

“Then let’s get to sleep,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck, holding on as she lifted her face for his kiss.

When their mouths met, merged, it was like the whole damn world lit up. Or maybe it was just the fire inside, blazing brighter than ever. Seconds ticked into minutes and still they stood, locked together, bodies pressed tightly to each other, heartbeats hammering in time.

Finally, he tore his mouth free, fought for enough breath to admit, “I have to touch you.”

“Please, yes,” she said softly, hungrily, “Now. Touch me.”

In seconds, they were naked and falling onto the bed together. Afternoon light poured through the windows and winter sun painted a soft, golden slash across the polished wood floor to lie on the bed and shine in Rita’s eyes.

His gaze raked over her lush curves, and everything in him stirred to a fever pitch. Jack felt as though he’d been waiting for this one moment his whole life. He bent his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Tasting, nibbling, working his teeth and tongue across her sensitive skin. Every whispered moan and sigh that slipped from her fed his hunger until it was like a closed fist around his throat, making breathing almost impossible. Her fingers slid through his military-short hair, nails scraping along his scalp as she arched up and into him, silently asking for more. And he had plans for a lot more.

Lifting his head, he stared down into her eyes. “This could be the longest nap on record.”

“Oh, good,” she said on a long sigh, “because I’m really tired.”

He grinned. “And I’m really glad to hear that.”

She pulled his head down to hers and this time she claimed his mouth in a kiss that seared him right to his bones. He let her lead, let her devour and gave back all that she was giving him and still, it wasn’t enough.

Jack moved over her, running his hands up and down her body, discovering every curve, exploring her soft silky skin until they were both trembling with an explosive need. Her small hands moved over his chest, his shoulders and every stroke of her fingers felt like licks of flame.

They rolled across the bed, tasting, touching. Her heavy brown curls spread out beneath her head like a wild, tangled dark halo. He was lost in her, her scent, her touch, the hunger raging inside him. Body raging, mind fogging over, Jack stood poised on the brink of a cliff.

“Now,” she whispered, lifting her hips, rocking into his hand as he cupped her center. “Jack, now. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Hold on. Just hold on.” Before he lost control completely, he reached down for his jeans, dug into the pocket and pulled out the condoms he’d tucked in there only that morning.

“Boy,” she said, “I really love a man who’s prepared to take a nap.”

He grinned at her as he sheathed himself. “Babe, ever since the moment we met, I’ve been prepared to nap.”

“So glad to hear it.” She opened her arms to him, lifted her hips again and welcomed him inside her.

That first slick, hot slide into her body stole his breath and would have finished him completely if he hadn’t fought for control and held on to it. She moved into him, and the slippery threads of control fell away.

Together they climbed, staring into each other’s eyes as they rode the crest of what they created. Mouths mating, breath mingling, they moved in an ancient dance as if they were born to be one. Together, they raced toward completion and together, they fell from the precipice, wrapped in each other’s arms.

What could have been minutes or hours later, when breathing was easier, Rita cupped his face in her palm and whispered, “I hope you’re still as sleepy as I am. Because I think I need another nap.”

He turned his face into her palm, kissed it, then grinned down at her. “It’s important to get enough sleep.”

Jack groaned tightly as the memory faded and he was alone again in a room that suddenly felt too small, too quiet. Too empty.

He could still feel her small hand on his face, see her smile, taste her kiss. His body was tight, hard, eager. His mind raced with possibilities, before he shut them all down and accepted the cold reality.

Jack had a penance to pay and being this close to Rita without touching her was only the latest toll to be taken.

Jumping out of bed, he stalked through the open doors to the terrace and there he stood, letting the icy wind off the sea blow away the lingering heat still haunting him.

* * *

The next few days weren’t easy.

Rita had to acknowledge that finding her way to the real Jack was going to be far more difficult than she’d anticipated. She was gone before he woke in the morning, heading down to the bakery where she worked to stay busy enough to keep thoughts of Jack at bay. Then in the evening, Jack did his best to avoid her completely. It was as if she was an unwanted guest he was trying to convince to leave.

Okay, yes, she’d agreed to a temporary marriage, but only because she’d caught those glimpses of her Jack. And now, he seemed determined to not let that happen again. He was pushing her away and expected her to simply give up and go when their time together was up.

“Well,” she muttered to herself, “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Rita closed her eyes, groaned quietly at being overheard—and by Jack’s sister no less—then turned to face Cass. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the other woman said, walking farther into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were talking out loud so it was hard to miss.”

“Sometimes,” Rita admitted sheepishly, “I have to talk to myself because I’m the only one who really understands me.”

Cass laughed. “Boy, I know that feeling. Between my practice, my husband and my kids, sometimes I talk to myself just to make sure I’m still there.”

Rita relaxed her defenses a little. She’d liked Cass immediately when they’d met at the wedding. And listening to her now, Rita realized that with time, the two of them could be good friends. The question was, would she have that time?

“Look, I hope it’s okay that I’m back here. The redhead out front said I could come in.”

Casey again. “Of course it’s okay. Have a seat. I’m just getting these loaves of bread ready for the ovens.”

“God, it smells wonderful in here.” Cass took a deep breath and sighed as she pulled a stool up to the marble work surface. Glancing around the room at the trays, the racks of cooling biscotti, bread and cannoli shells, she sighed. “Bread, cookies... I could live here.”

Rita laughed and ran the blade of her knife along the elongated loaves of bread, making a few slices to give the dough room to grow while baking. “I love being in the kitchen.”

“Well, clearly you have the talent for it,” Cass said on a heavy sigh. “My husband has banned me from ours. He says what I call cooking, modern science calls poison.”

“Oh, ouch.”

Cass shrugged. “Yeah, it would be painful if it weren’t true. So we have a cook and everyone’s happy.”

She looked at a tray of thumbprint cookies with their glossy chocolate centers and sighed again. “Can I have one?”

“Sure.”

She bit in. “Wow. Just wow.”

Rita laughed and said, “Thank you.”

“Oh, my pleasure.” Cass watched her as she readied the bread loaves and the silence spun out for several seconds before she finally blurted out the reason for her visit. “I’m really happy you married Jack.”

Oh, Rita hated guilt. She’d grown up Italian Catholic and nobody did guilt better than they did. Her mother was a master at making her kids feel guilty and so Rita recognized the sensation when it slapped her. She’d lied to her family. To Jack’s family.

Maybe even to herself, it was too soon to tell. “Cass...”

The other woman waved one hand and shook her head. “No, you don’t have to say anything. I just mean, I wanted to let you know that we’re all glad he has someone. Jack’s been...sort of shut down since he came home from his last tour.”

Rita watched her, unsure what to say, or even what she could say.

“We’ve all tried to get through, but it’s like trying to catch fog. Every time you think you’re making progress, or maybe you see a flash of the old Jack, boom. It’s gone.” She shook her head and unconsciously reached for another cookie. Taking a bite, she sighed a little and continued. “If our mom was still alive, she’d have pushed past whatever boundaries he’s got set up inside him. She wouldn’t have accepted anything less.”

Rita heard the wistful tone and responded. “She was tough?”

“When it came to her family? Oh, yeah.” Cass grinned. “No one could stand in her way. But she’s been gone five years and it’s like the rest of us can’t figure out how to reach Jack.” She crumbled the rest of the cookie in her fingers. “That’s why we’re so glad he’s got you. And the baby.”

Oh, that guilt was really starting to get heavy, Rita thought. What would Cass and the rest of their family think of Rita when this three-month marriage ended? Would they blame her for walking out on Jack, never knowing the real reason behind it?

“The worst part for me is I hate seeing my dad look so...helpless over this,” Cass said. “He tries to talk to Jack but just can’t and he’s scared. Heck, we all are.”

So was Rita. In the time since Jack had walked back into her life, she’d seen him withdraw not only from her but from the family who clearly loved him. Their marriage hadn’t helped. If anything, he was working even harder at avoiding her.

“I don’t like feeling helpless,” Cass muttered. “I’m not good at it.”

Rita smiled. Here, she really could bond with Cass. “Neither am I.”

“Good.” Cass gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I’m glad to hear it. That means you’ll push him as maybe the rest of us can’t.”

But no pressure, Rita thought.