He picked up a furious rhythm, hard enough to make the headboard thump against the wall. I lost track of who we were or why we’d ever been estranged at all. I clung to him, dug my nails into his back, and wrapped my legs around his pumping hips. The mattress creaked and groaned. As pleasure swept up my limbs, I moaned, lost in the sensation of a powerful man between my legs.
In the morning, I awoke and stretched luxuriously, basking in the sensation of being well-fucked. The feeling passed when I realized I was alone and the mattress cool to the touch. I dressed quickly and trotted downstairs. I found Sam in the kitchen. When I entered the room, he glanced up, avoiding my gaze.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning.” A plate of biscuits rested on the counter. He buttered the top of one, took a bite, then set it down.
“Hung over?” I asked. A peculiar air of estrangement lurked between us. The afterglow of our torrid lovemaking faded away with the night.
“Yes. A little.” With a heavy sigh, he covered the plate with foil and turned to leave. “I’ll have our luggage brought downstairs. We can leave right away if you want.”
“Wait.” I touched his arm. He stopped but didn’t look at me. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” The line of his jaw tightened. He shoved a hand through his hair. “About last night—I owe you an apology. I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing.”
No, no, no. A mistake? The tenseness of his shoulders sent a shard of panic straight into my soul. “It seems like all we do anymore is apologize to each other.” I covered my face with my hands before straightening. “I love you, Sam. Last night was just what I needed. I needed you. You. All this time I’ve been pushing you away when all I really wanted was you.” He stared at me, eyes narrowed, disbelieving. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
In two steps, he crossed the room and took my mouth in a deep and lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he said, “It’s never too late for us.”
Chapter 32
DAKOTA
WHEN WE got home, Sam carried me up the stairs and down the hallway to our bedroom. Once inside, he started the fireplace with the press of a button while I changed clothes. Even though it was summer, the temperature had dropped, and dampness chilled the air. I shivered in the middle of the bed and watched as Sam removed his T-shirt and sweatpants. He tossed them aside then turned his attention on my pajama bottoms. I grabbed the drawstring in protest.
I bit my bottom lip. Sam’s high sex drive required a lot of attention, and I recognized the smoldering light in his eyes. I’d denied him for too long. It was just another way I’d disappointed him.
“I’m still a little sore from last night,” I said.
He tugged on the hem of the pajama bottoms. I let go of the drawstring and let him slide the pants over my hips and thighs. “Not everything is about sex, you pervert. Maybe I just want to feel your skin against mine.”
On hands and knees, he crawled up the mattress then collapsed on the bed beside me. A rumble of thunder shook the walls. Sam drew me into his embrace. The warmth of his skin heated more than my body; it heated my soul and healed my heart. I ran a hand along the swell of his biceps and squeezed the swollen muscle.
“I didn’t like the way that Shelby girl looked at you at the office the other day,” I began conversationally. “Why was she there? Xavier tried to shoo me away from your office. Everyone acted like it was some big secret. Muriel even called and said I needed to get to work ASAP.”
“Ah, so that’s why you came into work? I thought it was because you missed me.” I rolled my eyes and was rewarded by his grin. “I told you, she’s the project manager on a remodel of one of my properties.” He drew in a deep breath through his nose and trained his gaze on my breasts, visible through the thin cotton of my pajama top. “Now, if you’re done talking, I’ve got a few things I need to get off my chest.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” He lifted my shirt and pressed a kiss above my navel. “I love the way your skin tastes, the smell of your hair, the light in your eyes when you say my name.” The vibrations of his voice carried through my core as he dragged his lips up my belly. The rough palm of his hand skimmed over my thigh. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now, with you.”
With a luxurious sigh, I leaned back against the pillows and let the stress of the past month ease away under Sam’s loving touch. His skillful hands roamed every inch of my body, followed by his lips. When he reached the tips of my toes, he returned to my side, drew me against his chest, and spooned me until the morning.
Chapter 33
SAM
WHEN DAYLIGHT slanted through the curtains, I slid a hand over the velvety skin of Dakota’s belly. She blinked up at me, her large eyes made bluer by the glimmer of tears. I traced a finger along the curve of her temple, over her cheek, and down to her lips. My chest ached until I struggled to draw breath.
“What if I get pregnant again?” she whispered. “I can’t lose another baby. It’ll wreck me. I can’t bear to disappoint you again.”
“Never.” I tilted her face up so she could see my sincerity. “This isn’t the end of our story. You and I, we’re just getting started.” Another tear escaped and rolled to the point of her chin. “We’ll try again when you’re ready—if you want. There are doctors who specialize in these things. We’ll see every one of them, if that’s what it takes. Or we could adopt.”
“Really?” Hope lit her eyes. It was the best reward I’d ever received. “You’d do that?”
“Baby, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.” I shifted her weight on my lap. “Or we can be one of those childless couples who travels the world and enjoys each other’s company.”
“I wanted this baby,” she whispered. “Not at first, but after I got used to the idea, I realized how important it was to me. I feel like this is my fault. I shouldn’t have worked so hard. I should have—”
I put a finger to her lips. “Stop. You can’t second guess yourself. We both made mistakes, but we’ve got to move on. We have to keep going forward, or we’ll never get through this.” She took my hand in both of hers and rubbed her cheek against my knuckles. The tenderness in her touch wrecked my self-control. I pulled her to me, drinking in the clean scent of her shampoo, savoring the warmth and vitality of her body against mine. “Say you love me, Dakota. Tell me.”
“You know I love you, Sam.” She bit her lower lip. “But you’re not an easy guy to live with sometimes.” Her hand smoothed down the length of my tie. I placed my hand over hers and pressed it to my heart. “I know it’s because you’re driven and focused. You can’t help it. You’re wired that way. I’m always worried that you’re going to be disappointed with me.”
“Never.” I squeezed her hand. She threaded her fingers through mine. The bones of her hand felt small and fragile.
From the nightstand, my phone began to vibrate. Her hand stayed in mine. I tightened my grip and didn’t let go while I answered the call.
“Xavier, hold all my calls. I’m unavailable until further notice. Understand? And tell Mrs. Caldwell.” I turned to face Dakota and smiled down at her. “I need to be with my wife. If anyone calls for me, tell them I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Mrs. Pittman and Chandler took the day off so Dakota and I could be alone. We spent the rest of the day together, watching television, holding hands and snuggling on the sofa. I’d forgotten how nice it was to be a normal guy without the pressures of work looming overhead. Outside our condo, the gray sky had darkened to slate. Drizzle slapped against the windows, blurring the cityscape beyond the glass.
Dakota settled into the nook between my neck and shoulder. The solid weight of her head against my chest felt right. I tightened my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She sighed. In that moment of solitude, the purpose of my life became clear.
“Did you talk to Vanessa?” Dakota asked, as if reading my thoughts. “What did you decide to
do?”
“Yes.” In all the hubbub, I’d failed to fill her in on my decision. “I’m taking over Seaforth Industries, and I plan to appoint Vanessa as head of the company.”
Dakota pulled back far enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Vanessa?”
“Vanessa will be the new CEO of Seaforth Industries.” I twirled a finger in a lock of her brown hair, enjoying the silky glide of the hair over my skin. “She graduated with honors from Stanford. She’s got an MBA and the brains to handle it. I’m just not sure of her intentions.”
“Are you disappointed?” Her breasts lifted and fell beneath her T-shirt as she exhaled.
“I never wanted to run the family business. You know that. I just didn’t want to see it crash and burn.” Unable to resist the perfection of those twin swells, I cupped her left breast in my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her lips brushed my earlobe with her next words.
“I suppose Maxwell is ecstatic?”
I stiffened. The mere thought of occupying the same air space as Maxwell dampened the pleasantness of my afternoon with Dakota. “Not for long.”
“And what about Blackwood?” She cupped my face between her palms. “He’s going to be really disappointed.”
“Blackwood can suck my—’
“Sam!” She placed two fingers over my lips to silence me.
I bit the tips of her fingers. “No more talk about work,” I said, and scooped her into my arms. I didn’t want to think about Maxwell. The damage to my relationship with him had proceeded beyond repair. As soon as Vanessa took the reins to Seaforth Industries, I’d never have to talk to him again.
Chapter 34
DAKOTA
THE NEXT week, I returned to work for good. Spending time with Sam, away from the pressures of our daily routine and the sins of our past, had renewed my lust for life. Although my heart still weighed heavy at times, I forced myself to look ahead at the future. The ache of loss might never go away, but over time, it would lessen and become tolerable.
He took one last trip to Tokyo, to complete his business with Takashima and appoint a representative to handle Takashima’s business exclusively.
I hated spending the nights alone, but it was different this time. Sam was coming home for good in another few days, and I slept better knowing our future was improving.
The day before Sam’s return, the ringing of my phone woke me from a deep sleep. I had no idea what time it was. My pulse accelerated, hoping it was Sam. An empty glass of water tumbled to the floor as I groped the surface of the nightstand. A glance at the clock showed 3:44 AM. “Hello?”
“Hello. Yes. Is this Mrs. Seaforth?” A calm, businesslike male voice cut through my sleep-induced fog.
“Um, yes. This is Mrs. Seaforth.” I sat bolt upright in bed. My heart pounded against my ribs. I clutched the phone tighter until my fingers ached. “Who is this?”
“Mrs. Seaforth, this is Dr. Alvarez of Laurel Falls Hospital. Mr. Seaforth has just been admitted to the emergency room. We’re going to need you here right away.”
“What?” My mind struggled to wrap around this announcement. Sam should be in the air, on his way home right now.
“I can fill you in on the details when you get here. We’re taking him into surgery. I’ve got to go.”
“I’m on my way.” I ended the call and with shaking fingers, dialed Rockwell. He answered on the first ring, and I filled him in.
“Tell Chandler. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Rockwell’s calm but assertive voice brought me back to reality. A dozen unpleasant thoughts raced through my head. Even though Sam and I had been having problems, we were on the road to recovery. The thought of losing him formed a rock in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, our problems seemed trivial and stupid.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital. The doctor met me at the door to the emergency room. With a hand on my elbow, he guided me into a small office.
“Mrs. Seaforth, your father-in-law has had a stroke.” He paused for breath. I held up a hand.
“Wait a minute. Maxwell?” I studied his face, looking for some kind of clue. This had to be a joke. “Not Sam?”
“Yes. Maxwell Seaforth. I should’ve been clearer on the phone. I believe your father-in-law has had an ischemic stroke, which is probably due to a blocked blood vessel. We’ll know more in a little while. I want to assure you that we have our very best specialists working on him right now.”
“Not Sam. Oh, thank God.” With a hand on my chest, I sank into the nearest chair, afraid my knees might give out. The doctor raised an eyebrow at my inappropriate response. “I mean, we’re not close. Maxwell and my husband have been estranged for many years. You really should call his wife.”
“We called Mrs. Seaforth, but she refused to come. We tried your husband, and his daughter, Vanessa. It seems both are out of the country. You were the only person to respond.”
Of course they hadn’t called Venetia. She wouldn’t come anyway. She’d severed ties with Maxwell at his request the previous year. Vanessa was in France, tidying up her personal affairs before moving to Laurel Falls permanently. Even if she wanted to come, she couldn’t. Sam was probably still in the air. Maxwell, however, had a ton of minions at his disposal. I found it curious that not one of them was present.
“Surely one of his employees could be of assistance?” I spoke my thoughts aloud.
“We really need a member of the family present to sign for him.” The doctor’s tone was patient but firm.
“My husband’s out of the country. I’m sorry. I don’t think I can help.” I turned and made my way toward the door. Rockwell waited in the hallway, his tanned face unusually pale.
“Is he okay? What’s happened?”
“Sam’s fine. It’s Maxwell. He’s had a stroke.”
Rockwell’s expression stiffened. “Oh. I’d like to say I feel sorry for the bastard, but I don’t.”
“I know.” Weariness washed over me, through my bones, and made me feel older than my years.
Rockwell wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
We were about to board the elevator when I balked. Despite of all the grief Maxwell had given me and Sam over the years, I couldn’t wipe away the image of him alone in the hospital. He had no one. Even his paid cronies had abandoned him. Through his own meanness, he’d alienated his children and, apparently, his wife. I couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away until I knew he’d be okay.
“Wait.” I retreated from the elevator. “Call me crazy, but I can’t leave until I know he’s pulled through.”
Rockwell removed his cap and scratched the top of his head. A wry smile twisted his mouth before he squeezed my arm. “You’re not crazy. You’re just a good person. And that’s why Sam loves you.”
Chapter 35
DAKOTA
THROUGH THE open blinds of the hospital window, darkness had fallen over the city. Lights twinkled in the buildings where people went about their lives. I wondered what Sam was doing, eager to get his response to my messages. We still tiptoed around each other. We’d both said things intended to wound. It was always easiest to hurt the ones you loved most, but in typical Sam fashion, he’d forgiven me.
Maxwell rested on the narrow bed. A turban of snowy-white bandages bound his head. Of course, as a benefactor of the hospital, he had a fancy private suite furnished with heavy oak furniture and plush carpets. He seemed smaller, frail, skin pallid against the white linens and smudges of fatigue beneath his eyes. From a velvet-upholstered wing back chair, I watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The fingers of his left hand twitched occasionally, but the right arm rested at his side, limp and useless.
The door to the room opened, and Rayna entered. She came to a stop at the side of Max’s bed and stared down at him. After an eternity, she adjusted the collar of her pale pink shell and sighed. “Serves you right, selfish bastard,” she said then turned to face me. “What are you doing here?”
“Someone needed to stay with him,” I said, an undercurrent of resentment in my voice. “Where’ve you been?” I had to wonder what kind of woman ignored her husband when he was battling death.
“I was in Key West and had trouble getting a flight back,” she said, her eyes meeting mine without the slightest hint of remorse. That explained her golden tan and the streaks of sun in her hair. “I haven’t seen the doctor yet. What’s his status?”
“He’s had a stroke. They’re treating him with medication and surgery. He’s paralyzed on the right side. They’re not sure yet about his speech. They’ll know better when they run more tests.”
The overhead lights bounced off the smooth surface of her hair as she shook her head. “He’s going to hate that.” The curve of her mouth twisted into an ugly line. “We’re separated. I promised not to file for divorce until after the trial. I suppose now I’ll have to wait until he’s better.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“He’s got a cruel side.” Her hand shook as she smoothed the front of her skirt. “I went into this marriage with my eyes wide open, but I had no idea—” She paused to draw a deep breath. “And now the scandal. All these ugly things coming out about his business dealings. I could’ve overlooked the other women, but not the legal issues or this.” Her shoulders slumped, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I suppose you think I’m a horrible person.”
Pretty Broken Promises: An Unconventional Love Story Page 16