Justin's Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Justin opened his eyes. “Megan?”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled. “I promise.”

  He muttered something she couldn’t hear, then bent down and wrapped his arms around her. Kissing her deeply, he started to move in and out of her body. They touched everywhere. His chest to her breasts, their legs tangling, their tongues dancing with each other.

  Her hands clutched at his back. As he thrust in again and again, his muscles tightened. His breathing became more rapid. She wondered if he was experiencing what she’d felt before. One of his hands cupped her breast and played with her nipple. The twinge between her thighs became something else, something like what had happened before, as her blood had heated and she’d felt herself pulled under. It wasn’t going to happen again, was it? Could it? So quickly?

  He kissed her neck, then her shoulder. She caught her breath. He raised himself and touched both her breasts. The pleasure increased, as did the rhythm of his thrusts. She arched against him, needing more. Needing to feel that same intensity.

  Without thinking, she drew her legs back toward her chest.

  “Oh, Megan,” he breathed.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. He was looking at the place where they joined. By her innocent actions, she had exposed herself completely. He raised his head and their gazes locked. The intensity there seared her down to her soul. She forgot to be embarrassed. She forget everything except the feelings that passed between them.

  He lowered his right hand and pressed his fingers to her most secret place. Rubbing slowly, he brought her deeply into the sensual pool. He drew her under, down and down until she knew she would drown with him. She needed to look away. She needed to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. She had to bare herself to him. All of her. It made no sense, but she didn’t question the need. She drew her legs back more, bending them at the knee so he could see all of her. She forced her eyes to stay open, even as her muscles contracted and she felt herself thrust up to the surface. Even as he stilled suddenly and groaned her name. Even as his face tightened into a grimace and his thighs turned to rock beneath her hands.

  Only when they stretched out together under the coverlet, did she sigh softly and let her lids sink closed.

  Justin held her close to him. She could hear his heart beating as she rested her head on his chest. She’d never known such a feeling of contentment and intimacy. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

  “Does everyone do this?” she asked softly.

  He chuckled. She heard the sound and felt the vibration against her cheek. She liked it.

  “Everyone doesn’t do it all the time,” he answered. “Most married couples do.”

  “Even Colleen and Gene?”

  He laughed again. “Let’s not think about that.”

  She didn’t want to, either, but she couldn’t forget what had happened in her store when her brother-in-law had talked about her “needs.” She shuddered at the thought of him wanting to touch her the way Justin had. As for her sister, she couldn’t imagine her taking her clothes off completely, let alone being quiet enough for she and her husband to... Justin was right. Better not to think about it.

  She shifted until she was facing him with her palm on his chest and her chin resting on her hand. “Is this what you did with Laurie?”

  His dark eyes met hers. He stroked her temple, brushing aside a loose strand of hair. “Why do you ask?”

  “It makes more sense, now,” she admitted, then grimaced. “I never understood why men would want to visit, you know, those kind of women. But for something this wonderful, who wouldn’t pay a dollar?”

  “Megan!”

  She gazed up at him, then touched his face. “Did you want to do this before? With me, I mean.”

  “Oh, yes.” He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. “All the time,” he said between kisses.

  “All the time? How often do people do it?”

  “As often as they want.”

  “Really?” That was an intriguing thought. “So we could do it again? Right now?”

  He grinned. “You’ll be the death of me.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head. “Hush. I thought you wanted to do it again.”

  She had another question, but he reached his hand up to cup her breast and suddenly she couldn’t remember anything at all.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  He woke with a feeling of foreboding. Without stirring, Justin knew Megan had left his bed. He didn’t want to open his eyes to see where she’d gone to. He didn’t want to know if she was dressed or still delightfully naked. He didn’t want to admit that it was dawn and that yesterday was gone forever.

  He lay still, breathing deeply, as if by pretending to be asleep, he could hold on to what they’d had together. Those few hours had changed everything. She was too innocent to know, of course. She assumed everyone felt the same kind of passion that had flared between them. It wasn’t true. He’d been with women before. He’d felt excitement and a release. But nothing like the pleasure he’d found with Megan. Perhaps it was the anticipation. He’d wanted her for as long as he could remember. Perhaps it was a foolish trick of fate, to bind him to the one woman he could never have.

  A small sound caught his attention. A slight sigh. Steeling himself against the inevitable pain that was sure to strike his soul, he sat up and opened his eyes.

  Megan stood in front of the window seat, looking out. She’d drawn the coverlet around her. Long blond hair cascaded down her back. He looked at the piles of clothing scattered on the floor. She hadn’t dressed yet. She was naked under the coverlet. Yet the most male part of him didn’t stir. There would be no fire between them this morning; only pain.

  He stood up and walked over to her. Without stopping to consider the fact she might hate him, he wrapped his arms around her and inhaled the familiar sweet scent of her body. She relaxed against him.

  “The sun’s barely up,” she said, still looking out the window. “But people are already stirring.”

  He glanced toward the eastern horizon. The first sliver of sunlight could be seen stretching across the sleepy town. Megan was right. Mr. Greeley was making his way toward his butcher shop.

  “They’ll know.” Her voice was troubled.

  Regret. That which he’d feared most. He’d known she would regret their night together and the tenderness and love their bodies had shared. He’d warned himself about this, but he still felt the icy fingers clutching at his heart.

  He stepped back. “If you hurry, you can get home without anyone seeing you.”

  “No. It’s too late.”

  She shook her head. Long strands of hair shimmered around her. He wanted to touch her hair, touch her, anything to make it all right. But he couldn’t. She was right. It was too late. For both of them.

  He stood behind her in the cool morning air, clenching his hands at his sides. He didn’t want to know about her regrets. A flare of anger surprised him. “You should have thought of that before you came here,” he said. “You’re the one who insisted on coming up to my hotel room. You wanted to plan your own scandal. Now that it’s happened, why are you surprised? Of course there’s going to be a price to pay. There always is.”

  “At least we’re even.”

  He stared at the back of her head, then placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her until she faced him. He’d half expected to see tears, but there weren’t any. Her large hazel-gray eyes met his unflinchingly.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I’ll have my comeuppance this morning. You should be pleased. At last I’ll pay for those things I said to you seven years ago.”

  He stared at her. “Is that what you think last night was about? That I bedded you to punish you for what you said?”

  “No, of course not. Punishment wouldn’t be that sweet.” She stared at the center of his chest. “But can you tell me it never crossed your mind? As we climbed those stairs, wasn’t a small
part of you secretly pleased at what I would have to face today?”

  “Never.”

  She swallowed. “I wish I could believe you.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her gaze to his. “Do you forgive me, Justin Kincaid? Genuinely? Can you forget the past between us?”

  She’d always been beautiful, but this morning, with the fragrance of their night together clinging to her skin, with a faint flush of color staining her cheeks, with her full mouth trembling, he knew beautiful didn’t begin to describe her. She was the only woman he’d ever loved. She’d broken his heart and shattered his soul. She’d known his greatest weakness and she’d profited from it. Loving her had always been easy, but forgiving her?

  She nodded faintly. “I suspected as much. You can’t forgive me. No matter. I can’t forgive myself, either.” She moved away from him and sat in the window seat. The coverlet she clutched around her made her look young and vulnerable.

  “I loved you,” she said, then smiled. “I know you don’t believe me, but I swear, I did. More than anything. That morning.” She shuddered. “It was awful. I’d heard about the beating. Colleen could talk of nothing else. My father knew you’d been accused. He was disgusted, saying the most awful things. He frightened me. Gene came calling. He told me more details of the beating. He was the one who told me they’d accused you.”

  There was a velvet chair by the fireplace. Justin walked over and sat on it. The faint chill in the room made him glance toward his clothing, but he didn’t bother to pull on his trousers.

  “I believed you to be innocent,” she went on. Her gaze was firmly fixed on the floor, her fingers twisted the edge of the coverlet. “Then Gene took my father aside and told him you’d admitted to being with Laurie. That you’d paid her to do those things.” She paused and swallowed, as if fighting for control. “We were supposed to be engaged, Justin. You said you loved me, but you’d admitted to being with a wh-whore.” Her voice cracked.

  “I explained that,” he said.

  “I know. But I needed the truth seven years ago. Not last month.”

  “You should have trusted me.”

  “Perhaps.” She looked up at him. Tears glistened in her almond-shaped eyes, but they didn’t fall. “I was destroyed at the thought of you being with another woman. I didn’t understand about needs and longings. I didn’t know how wonderful it was and why you’d want to do that with her.”

  “Dammit, Megan, you’re the one I wanted. You’re the one I loved.” He wanted to go to her and hold her, but he couldn’t. Not yet. She had more to tell him. He wondered if her words would continue to rip his heart, or if eventually it would eventually become numb to the pain.

  “I wanted to believe you,” she continued. “When we met by the stream, I really wanted to hear that you were innocent. I kept waiting for you to explain about being with Laurie. But you never said a word.”

  “I didn’t think you knew. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  “I felt that if you were lying about that, you might be lying about everything.” He started to interrupt, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I see now that I was afraid to believe in you. If I really thought you were innocent, I would have to be at your side defending you. I couldn’t do that. I was too afraid. Afraid of what my father would say. Afraid of what Laurie had been able to give you that I couldn’t. I was afraid of everything.”

  “You could have just said that,” he told her, then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. The demons returned and he didn’t know if he had any strength left to fight them. It had been seven years since that afternoon. Why did it still matter what she said?

  “I know. But I knew if I admitted that to you, you would convince me. You were always very good at convincing me of things.”

  “Not good enough.”

  She shifted on the seat. He didn’t bother to look at her. He could hear the rustle of the coverlet. “I didn’t mean to say those things. They just came out.”

  Then the demons won. He was swept out of the hotel room toward the bank by the stream. He could see the green leaves on the trees, feel the heat of the summer afternoon. Megan stood before him, a frightened young girl, not yet sure of her way. Her face had been pale, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  “I won’t go with you,” she’d said, her body stiff with what he’d thought was disgust but now understood was fear. “I won’t. Leave me be, Justin. It’s over. If you’re going, then go, but I don’t want any part of you.”

  “I thought you cared about me. We’re engaged.” His body was numb. He’d had to force the words out slowly.

  “Not anymore.” She’d raised her hand to her neck and taken off the delicate chain that he’d given her as a symbol of their pledge. The chain had been the only thing of his mother’s that he’d kept. Megan had tossed it at him. He hadn’t bothered to put out his hand, and it had fallen to the ground.

  “Just like that,” he’d said sadly, wondering how much this was going to destroy him. Each breath hurt more than the last. Every part of him screamed with pain, with emptiness. Not Megan. He couldn’t lose her. She was the only decent thing in his sorry life. “I love you.”

  “I don’t love you,” she’d said spitefully. “You’re a fool if you thought I ever did. Who do you think you are, anyway? I’m Megan Bartlett. I know who my father is. You’re just that bastard Justin Kincaid. You’ll only ever be a bastard. Go away. Go away!”

  Her shriek had rebounded through the forest, vibrating against the trees and the ground, forcing him to run. He’d turned from her and fled into the cool silence, away from the words that would forever echo in his mind.

  He’d left the next day. Had left Landing determined to become that which the town believed him to be. A criminal and a troublemaker. He’d been determined to forget Megan, as well. He had done neither. In the end, he’d found himself facing what he’d fled from. Here he was, seven years later, listening to Megan say she’d been wrong.

  But it was still too late.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Why do you care about them?” he asked, fighting his anger. “Why the hell does it matter what other people think? What is the hold everyone has on you? Damn you, tell me why.”

  Her mouth opened twice before she could force out the words. “I can’t.”

  “Is it me?” he asked, clenching the arms of the chair to keep himself from rushing to her side to grab her and shake her until she confessed. “Is it your sister? Is it Gene?”

  She shook her head. “No. None of them. It’s me. It’s always been me.” She bent her head toward the floor. Her long hair fell forward, concealing her features. He didn’t want to know that she cried. Despite the pain, despite everything, her tears would tear him apart.

  “Megan—”

  “No!” She raised her head and glared at him. Tears trembled on her lower lashes but didn’t fall. “Do you want to know why?” She paused as if waiting for him to answer. When he didn’t, she shook her head. “Don’t change your mind now, Justin. I’ll tell you everything.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “When I was almost nine I came home early from school because I didn’t feel well. I walked into the kitchen, as I always did, and I heard voices coming from the parlor.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and gazed past him, as if seeing that long-ago afternoon. “It was my father and another man. I went down the hall and saw my mother was there, as well. They all started yelling. It was so loud, I couldn’t understand what they were saying at first. Then I knew. My mother was going away with this man. She wanted to take Colleen and me with her, but my father wouldn’t let her. He called her awful names.”

  Megan started rocking back and forth. He wanted to go to her and comfort her. More than that, he wanted to stop her words, for they obviously caused her pain. But he couldn’t. Selfishly, he had to know why she’d acted as she did. He had to know why she’d been so willing to destroy them both.

>   “I couldn’t bear it anymore, so I ran out and hid until it was the regular time to come home from school. I made Colleen swear not to tell them I’d left early.” She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. A single tear rolled down her temple and into her hair.

  “He said she’d died.”

  Justin straightened in the chair and stared at her. “Your mother?”

  She nodded. “He said it had been very sudden. She’d fallen down the stairs. At first, I thought he’d killed her. When they brought in the coffin, I was sure of it. That night, I crept downstairs and looked inside. It was empty. She’d gone away. Two days later, he buried that empty coffin and from then on spoke of my mother as if she were really dead.”

  “You never saw her again?”

  “No. I tried to tell Colleen what had happened, but she wouldn’t listen.” She turned to look at him. Sunlight caught the side of her face, illuminating her skin until she looked otherworldly. “You asked me once when my sister changed from being a wild hooligan to a proper lady. It was the day we buried that coffin. I think we both knew if we ever did anything wrong, we would be dead to our father. Dead and buried, or sent away. We were so young. We never forgot the lesson. Colleen won’t speak of it, but I know she remembers.”

  He went to her then. He didn’t remember standing up and walking across the room, but suddenly she was in his arms and he was holding her close. Her sobs sounded loud and harsh in the morning stillness, her body shook as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Hush, Megan. No one is ever going to hurt you again,” he whispered, then knew he would do anything in his power to keep that promise.

  She raised her damp face to him. “Don’t you see?” she said intently. “I finally understand. My mother took a lover. Papa was so difficult and exacting. I never knew why he was so concerned about our actions and reputations, but as I grew up, I finally understood. Yet in the end, all his effort went to waste.”

  He knew what she was about to say, but he couldn’t stop her. He tried pressing his fingers over her mouth, but she jerked her head away impatiently.