by Jaci Burton
Jaci Burton
heartbeat skyrocketed when he inhaled and caught a whiff of her scent as she leaned toward him. She smelled like gardenias and ocean, stimulating and sensual and making him squirm. He took the advantage and pressed a light kiss against her lips. God, she tasted sweet. Like a ripe peach about to burst. She smiled and didn't try to move away. A very good sign.
Ryan forced his thoughts away from mentally undressing his wife to more non-sexual areas, like McKay Corporation's financial statements.
They sipped ridiculous drink concoctions that tasted like they had more fruit than alcohol. They even came with paper umbrellas that Ryan flung on the floor before downing his drink in one large gulp. Then he ordered another. And another.
After a long and agonizing wait, dinner was ready. They were herded off to stand in yet another line, trays in hand and looking at more food than a platoon of soldiers could eat in a month. Judging from the mounds on some of the guests' plates, many were going to eat their month's worth tonight.
Faith placed small samples of several things on her tray. All the while, she and Terey talked and laughed as if they'd known each other for years.
Ryan wished Faith weren't so friendly and outgoing. And he got stuck listening to Dave banter on and on about the chances of the Minnesota Twins in the next World Series, and how he had personally met one the team's formerly prominent short-stops in the men's room in the box seat section one game. Obviously the high point of Dave's life.
Downing another mystery drink, Ryan prayed for rain.
The sky was clear and almost every star was visible.
It figured.
When dinner was over, Ryan stood to leave but Faith grabbed his arm and pulled him down.
"Where are you going? The entertainment's about to begin."
Ryan rolled his eyes to the celestial heavens and ordered another drink.
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By the time they'd sat through the hula dancers, fire breathers, spouting volcano and twenty different Hawaiian songs, Ryan was done for. Oh, man, was he ever done for. Maybe it was the ten or so Mai Tais he'd drank, hoping for oblivion. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. He was still conscious.
Faith had seemed to enjoy herself. She'd caught his eye several times during the show, smiling with a hopeful expression on her face. He tried his best to appear enthusiastic, although getting blitzed wasn't helping the situation.
At least the show was over. They said their goodbyes to Terey and Dave. But not before Faith had exchanged telephone numbers and vowed the four of them would get together again soon. Ryan held his tongue and smiled a polite goodbye, nodding when the couple said they'd see him on their next trip because they planned to come to Las Vegas.
Terey and Dave. In Las Vegas. Visiting him?
Not in this lifetime.
He weaved his way to the limo. Faith, on the other hand, seemed to be stone-cold sober. He swore she'd drank at least half as much as he did. Surely she should be feeling something. Maybe she'd loosened up enough that she'd go for a romp in the hay.
He snickered. Perhaps his plan was working after all.
"What's so funny?" she asked as they entered their hotel room.
Ryan crashed his left shoulder into the doorway as he walked through. "Nothin'."
She squinted, well, actually both of her did.
"Ryan, are you all right?"
Why were there two sofas in this room when there had only been one before they'd left earlier? He opened his eyes wider to focus, hoping when he sat down it really was a couch and not the floor.
"I'm fine. Why?" Oh good. It was a couch.
The room began to spin. Interesting, and kind of nauseating, too.
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"I think those cocktails were a bit strong tonight, don't you?" she asked.
Great. She was hammered, too. Time for beddy-bye. He wondered where their bedroom was. Probably too far away. They'd have to do it on the couch because he was certain he wasn't going to be able to get up.
"Come over here and sit down by me, here on the sofa, yeah, right here." He patted the soft cushion next to him. And yawned.
Faith strolled over and sat. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Why wasn't she drunk? "Why aren't you drunk?"
She shrugged and grinned at him. "I don't get drunk. For some reason I metabolize alcohol quite well."
He waved his hand in the air. "Me too. I mabolize calohol kite well too." He wondered if she was aware that she now had two heads.
"I think we should get you in bed."
"Now yer talkin', babe. Let's go get it on." He attempted to rise but fell back onto the couch. He wrinkled his nose, looked at Faith and then shrugged. "Okay I can't gedup. Les jus do it right here."
Uh oh. She was fading away, lost in the tornadic spinning of the room. He tried to raise his hand to wave goodbye to her, but everything went dark.
*
He was dead. Quite obviously, someone had murdered him in his sleep. With a sledgehammer to the head, judging from the excruciating pain shooting from one ear to the other.
Oh God, he'd gone to heaven! Blinding light shot into his eyes, causing the pain to migrate from between his ears to the back of his head. He felt miserable. Dead, miserable, and blinded by the light.
Correction. He was in hell. That had to be it. Heaven would never be this painful.
"Good morning."
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No, it was heaven, he decided. He'd just heard an angel's voice whispering softly in his ear.
"Good morning, angel." He smiled and mumbled into his pillow. "Is this heaven?"
"I doubt you'll think it's heaven when you're fully awake. Bet you have a miserable headache this morning."
He slowly pried open one eye and peered out.
This wasn't heaven. Although Faith did look like an angel in her white silk nightgown. Perhaps if he reached for her...
"Ugh. I feel awful!" He sat up as the sharp pain stabbed his brain.
"It's no wonder considering how much you drank last night." His merciful angel held a glass of water and two aspirin in her hand.
"Thanks." He swallowed and looked at her. "I got drunk, didn't I?"
She smiled at him. "I'll say. Passed right out on the couch."
"So how did I end up in here?"
She placed the glass on the nightstand, then folded her hands in front of her, a pink blush on her face. "I coaxed you in with the promise of sex. You at least had the desire to make it this far before collapsing on the middle of the bed."
He tilted his head as the thought struck him. "And did we?"
"Did we what?"
"Have sex."
Her lips curled upward. "No." Her voice was almost a whisper. Ryan found her shyness endearing. But, damn. No sex.
"And would you have? If I had been able to?"
Her clear blue eyes focused on his. "Honestly? I don't know."
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Chapter Nine
Would she have made love with Ryan that night? Faith didn't have an answer. The thought occupied her mind on the plane trip back to Las Vegas.
Maybe if he'd been sober she'd have considered it. After the kiss they'd shared the day of the luau, she knew without a doubt she'd have fallen easily into bed with Ryan that night.
But the fates conspired against them, and maybe that was a sign that the time wasn't yet right.
They'd had three wonderful days in Hawaii, soaking up the sun, playing tourist and enjoying the wondrous sights and smells. It had been relaxing, calming, and above all, had given her time to think about Ryan.
Without a doubt, she was attracted to her husband. He'd awakened needs she hadn't realized she possessed. The need to be wanted and desired.
He'd
been good to her--very good to her--since they married. Caring, considerate and fun. Not at all what she had expected. And they would eventually have to make love. It was ridiculous to put it off any longer, so why was she?
After the luau Ryan had been incapable. But why not tonight? Or any night after? What held her back?
She'd had a great time. And Ryan seemed to relax, although not completely. After the night he got drunk and passed out, he never brought up the subject of sex again.
And that disappointed her.
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Time to put her mind elsewhere. Working at the animal shelter today should help. She'd been away for too long and missed volunteering there, cuddling the dogs and especially the kittens.
"Where's your husband this morning?" James strolled into the kitchen, dressed for a game of tennis.
"He's in his home office doing some paperwork."
"I see. And how's the marriage going?"
"Fine." She was wary of saying anything that might give James the impression that she and Ryan's relationship wasn't proceeding according to the terms of Quentin McKay's will.
"You know he's going to dump you as soon as he gets you pregnant, don't you?" James said with a smirk.
Her irritation grew as she realized what he was doing. She pushed the newspaper aside and gave him her full attention. "I know the terms of the will."
"There are a lot of things about Ryan you don't know." He pulled a chair and sat next to her. His face, so similar to Ryan's, was etched with concern. She didn't believe it for one second. Faith knew what he was after.
"I don't need to know everything about him."
"But there are things you should know. Take his almost-wife Erica, for example. I'll bet you didn't know that the two of them--"
"Hey, is there any coffee left?" Ryan strolled into the kitchen and Faith sat back in her chair, feeling guilty that she'd even taken the time to listen to James's lies in the first place. Although she really would have liked to hear the remainder of his last sentence. Erica? Wasn't she out of the picture? Surely Ryan had no further contact with her after she'd walked out on him at the last minute--when he'd needed her the most.
Ryan grabbed a cup and leaned against the kitchen island, his gaze flitting to both her and James. Faith averted her eyes, feeling guilty that she'd been talking to Ryan's cousin.
"What were you two talking about?" Ryan asked.
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James shrugged and rose from the table. "Just getting better acquainted. I'm off to play tennis. See you later."
After he left, Ryan sat in the chair James vacated. "What was that all about?"
"Uhh, nothing. I think he was fishing for information about the two of us. I'm not sure."
Ryan nodded. "Doesn't surprise me. It's in his best interest if our marriage fails. Don't let him catch you off-guard. He'll continue to pry, wanting to trip you up or say anything that will nullify our marriage. Be careful. There's a lot at stake here."
"Yes. I'm fully aware what's at stake."
"Good. I knew I could count on you."
No emotion whatsoever. To Ryan, their marriage was like another deal in the works--another negotiation, another takeover. And of course, he planned to win.
Faith stood and put her cup in the dishwasher, then turned around.
"I'll be gone most of the day today."
"Where to?" He grinned. "Shopping?"
"Perish the thought." She offered a shudder for emphasis. Her closet overflowed from their first shopping expedition. It was doubtful she'd ever need to shop again. Except for maternity clothes. The thought brought a smile.
Of course, to get pregnant, she'd have to have sex.
Soon.
"And here I thought you liked shopping."
"No, I'm going to the animal shelter."
"What for?"
"I volunteer there on weekends. I haven't gone in the past few weeks because of everything else going on. I really need to go."
"Animal lover, are you?" He leaned back in the chair, his jean clad legs spread out. His black V-neck sweater hugged his chest in ways that made heat pool deep inside her.
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She sighed. What a fine male specimen he was. If only...no, she wouldn't think about it right now. "I've got to get going. They're expecting me at ten."
"Have fun, then," he said and picked up the newspaper she'd discarded, already dismissing her from his thoughts.
Ryan watched her leave, then set the newspaper down. Animal shelter? That was a side of her he knew nothing about.
And what about the guilty look on her face? When he'd walked in and found her in the kitchen with James, she'd been hanging on his cousin's every word like the man was the most gifted of storytellers.
Yeah, right. James had barely slipped through high school and had his college degree purchased for him with McKay endowments. He definitely wasn't gifted. So what had James said to Faith that captured her interest? She hadn't seemed to want to tell him about it.
His wife was an enigma. Purity and naivete that he'd never seen in a woman her age. But also shrouded in mystery. There were so many things about her he didn't know.
And she was apparently completely immune to him. Not once had he received any signals from her that she was ready or willing to make love with him. Except for that kiss on the beach. Even that she had stopped.
And right when things were getting interesting, too.
He'd done everything in his power to convince her. He'd bought her a new wardrobe, encouraged her to change her hairstyle and wear makeup. Hell, she'd even stopped wearing those goofy owl glasses she really didn't need.
Then he'd bought her jewelry, and taken her to Hawaii.
But had he been rewarded with the gift of her virginity in return?
No.
Although she had intimated that if he hadn't been drunk the night of the luau, something might have happened. But, would it have, really?
Doubtful.
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What was it going to take to seduce that woman? An Act of Congress?
He was fresh out of ideas.
And the clock was ticking.
*
Faith wiped her nose with the tissue she'd dug out of her purse, hoping the tears would dry up by the time she walked in the house.
She sniffed, wanting nothing more than to sit on the front porch stoop and bawl like a baby. Really, she'd been doing this for years. One would think she'd be hardened to it by now.
But she wasn't. Every time it happened it broke her heart, tore her up, and took her days to get over it.
If Ryan saw her like this, knew the reasons behind it, he'd think her a child. She was a grown up, and needed to be more stoic.
She dropped her purse on the porch and sat on one of the wicker chairs, focusing on the view as a hopeful distraction. The view of the Las Vegas strip was breathtaking. The McKay mansion sat atop a hill overlooking the best sight in town.
The lights weren't as visible now as they would be in the dark, but the sun had begun its slow descent over the horizon, lighting up the glitzy hotels lining gambling central. And right in the middle of all the grandeur sat The Chalet, its stark white towers looming like Heaven's gate in the middle of Babylon.
She swiped at the tears continuing their relentless roll down her cheeks, willing herself to stop crying. She really needed to learn to hold her emotions in.
"Mrs. McKay, is something wrong?"
Faith turned to see Leland standing at the front door, ever formal as usual. She hadn't even heard him open the door.
"No," she sniffed. "I'm fine."
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He stepped outside and pulled the fron
t door partly shut. "You're crying."
"Just a little."
"Is there something I can do?"
"It's silly, really."
Leland pulled a chair and sat next to her. Funny, he never sat when she did.
"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked.
She smiled at him, touched that he would even consider asking. "I volunteer at the animal shelter."
He nodded.
"Someone brought a litter of kittens in, along with the mother cat today."
"Go on."
She sniffed again. "The vet checked them and they all had feline leukemia, were malnourished and had to be put down."
"I see."
The tears fell again, despite her efforts to keep them at bay. Leland handed her a handkerchief, which she accepted gladly.
"I told you it was silly." she said.
"It's not silly to you."
"They were so sweet, even the mama. But, because their owner hadn't had her tested, she passed it on to her babies. Oh, and Leland,"
she said as she turned and rested her hand on his knee, "they were adorable. Orange-and-white-striped, like little tigers." She couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into tears, burying her face in Leland's handkerchief.
Leland placed his arm around her shoulders and patted, offering what to him must have been an unprecedented amount of emotion.
"Thank you," she managed when she could catch a breath. "I don't know what's gotten into me today, but every time they put one of those sweet little things to death a part of me dies too."
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"You love animals."
She nodded. "I was never allowed pets as a child, and my apartment has rules against them, so I've never had one of my own. That's why I volunteer. So I can at least be around them once a week, but then when they have to be..."
There she went again. She was a basket case, pure and simple.
Leland continued to pat her back. He really was so sweet to her. He and Margaret both. Over the past weeks she'd come to think of them as family. Truthfully, they were the only family she had.
Leland stayed with her in the growing darkness and held her until she'd finished crying over the lost babies.
Thank God Ryan hadn't been the one to see her out here blubbering like a baby over a few dead kittens.
*
Faith hadn't seen her husband all evening. After her crying jag she'd gone to her room to wash her face. At dinner, Margaret told her Ryan had gone to the office to do a few things and would be back later in the evening.