A Winter Sabbatical (Books We Love holiday romance)
Page 11
Marissa came up on her toes and leaned into him, into his warmth, his strength, and kissed him.
His lips were warm, soft, gentle. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. He tasted sweet, nice, wonderful.
Her hands slid up from his buttocks to his shoulders, then she stretched up to run her fingers through his hair, and Travis leaned into her as Marissa came back down to her normal height.
The warmth of the water trickled down their faces, like a creek tripping over pebbles; clinging to their lashes, their hair, their lips.
Marissa felt its sensuality as it rolled over her body, her shoulders, her breasts, and felt the reaction it had on Travis.
She opened her eyes, looked into his. Travis moved closer, Marissa almost lost her balance and stepped back. Travis cornered her against the sides of the shower, his hands either side of her, pinning her there, their lips still entwined.
He reached out and turned off the taps, and as the steam cleared, Marissa had no doubt as to the extent of his desire.
***
The next few days seemed to go by in a rush.
Elizabeth arrived on Marissa’s doorstep unannounced. She was caught on the hop, and didn’t know what to do.
“This is Jenny.” Elizabeth waved a hand in the other woman’s direction. “She’s going to design your wedding dress.”
“There must some mistake. I—we—” Marissa began, confused. When was this arranged?
“No mistake. Come on, Jenny.” She brushed past Marissa, pushing her way through the door, leaving Marissa with no doubt that this woman would move heaven and hell to get what she wanted, precisely when she wanted it.
Marissa shivered as she stood in her underwear on the kitchen table. Marissa felt self-conscious standing around almost naked in front of these strangers, but they didn’t seem to care.
The rain tapped against the window, and despite the heating, Marissa shivered, her arms covered in goose bumps. She was not entirely sure how she got up there, or how she let herself be bullied.
She’d been measured around her waist, down her arm and across her back. Not to mention every other imaginable, and unimaginable place possible.
Too bad that she was right in the middle of a crucial scene in her novel before they’d arrived. Elizabeth didn’t seem to give a hoot that she’d disrupted Marissa’s whole schedule.
What did the woman think she did – sit around watching television all day?
The doorbell rang. Even Marissa heard herself sigh.
“Don’t move!” Marissa didn’t dare defy the woman who was soon to be her mother-in-law.
“Really, mother!” It was Travis’ voice. Thank God, he’d come to save her. “Didn’t we tell you we don’t want a big wedding?” His eyes were apologetic as he raised his eyebrows, and Marissa began to feel sorry for him, when really, she was the victim. Travis reached out to her, and Marissa climbed down from the table.
As she pulled on the last of her clothes, the doorbell rang again. “What now?” Marissa screeched, almost at the end of her tether.
Elizabeth hurried toward the door. “That,” she said, as she floated toward the front door, “will be the wedding planner.”
“Hell, Elizabeth,” Travis said, addressing his mother by her Christian name, as he always did when he was mad at her. “We’re living in Maldon, not Manhattan!”
“A wedding planner?” Marissa repeated, mystified as to how her life had suddenly been turned upside down by one person.
Travis pulled Marissa close, and rubbed his hands across her back. “I’ll sort it out, don’t you worry.”
Elizabeth swept past them both, swinging her skirt with her hands as she hurried to the front door.
“Jean-Pierre, how wonderful to see you again!” Travis grimaced at her plastic smile.
The newcomer took a little bow. “Madam Johnston! How beautiful you look today.” Jean-Pierre leaned forward and kissed her hand.
“Oh please!” Travis was getting really cross now. How could Elizabeth do this to them? More particularly, how could she do it to Marissa?
Jean-Pierre rushed over to Marissa, taking her hand and kissing it. “And this must be the blushing bride,” he said. In his false French accent, Travis decided.
Marissa glanced across at Travis. “I—er,”
Things had gotten way out of hand.
Travis moved close to the ‘wedding planner’ his mother so generously organized, and motioned to the sofa. “You, sit,” he commanded, as calmly as possible. “And you too, er, Jenny.”
Elizabeth went pale. “Travis, darling!”
“You, Elizabeth,” he motioned toward the kitchen. “In there. We have to talk.”
He took Marissa by the hand, as they headed for the kitchen. God give me strength, he silently prayed. ‘Cause I’m sure as hell gonna need it!
Chapter Eight
Marissa gripped Travis’ hand under the table.
Damn his mother – damn her a million times over. Why did she have to meddle? Again.
He thought this wedding business had all been sorted out.
“...flowers. Travis, darling,” It was his mother’s voice, irritating him, grating on him. “You could at least try to look like you’re interested.”
Travis flung his chair back noisily and strode over to the window, his back to the two women he loved most in the world.
He clasped his hands behind his head. One, two, three...
“It cost a fortune, darling,” Elizabeth’s voice again. “But I cancelled Jean-Pierre. And what thanks do I get?”
He moved his hands to behind his back, as Travis continued to fight for control of his temper. It was their wedding after all.
He was startled when Marissa’s hand came up around his shoulders. Travis brought his hand around, covering hers, then turned to face his mother.
She sat at the antique table – his antique table – sipping his tea and nibbling on cucumber sandwiches. Appropriate for a lady of her standing, he thought facetiously.
It wasn’t as though he hated her; it was just that Elizabeth annoyed the hell out of him when she interfered. Marissa was just starting to settle, starting to be open and honest with him, and now...
Travis opened his mouth to speak when Elizabeth threw down her serviette and swept up her handbag in one agile movement. “If you’re going to behave like a spoilt child, then I’m going home.”
Travis knew his mouth was open, but had no compulsion to close it. Deep breath and count to ten.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he called, as Elizabeth disappeared in a flurry through the front door.
Travis turned back to the window as Marissa sank down into the leather lounge chair and tried to suppress a giggle. Tried, but didn’t quite make it.
She didn’t care about the wedding. The most important thing to her was that they actually got married. A celebrant in a registry office would suffice as far as Marissa was concerned. She didn’t even care if they were married in their swimming gear, or for that matter, wearing nothing at all.
Somehow she didn’t think Elizabeth would feel the same.
Marissa felt restless and began to pace the room. She hovered near the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She fingered the papers abandoned by Travis’ mother only moments before.
“Tell you what? That my family are nuts, or better yet, pushy?”
“That you were loaded.” The flames of the fire roared not far away, but Marissa shivered as a chill overtook her.
“Loaded? Not likely.” He laughed, but Marissa wasn’t convinced and turned her attention to the papers again. She picked up one of the sample invitations littering the table top.
“Best quality paper money can buy. Each one to be individually written in calligraphy.” She looked straight through Travis when he said nothing. “How many hundred guests did Elizabeth say were on the list?”
Marissa raised her eyebrows, but Travis just turned away and stared out over the valley. The cracking of his knuckle
s rankled her.
Marissa tried to massage away the thumping in her head. “Please, Travis – don’t lie to me. I want the truth.” She continued to rub at her temples with her fingertips, to no avail. “I need the truth, Travis. Pure, unadulterated, truth.”
“Truth is,” His back was still to her – why wouldn’t he look at her? “I dabble in investments.”
“So you told me before.” Her voice was cold, icy. Even Marissa heard it, but she was angry, and she didn’t care if I knew.
“Marissa...” He turned, pleading to her with his eyes.
She interrupted him mid-sentence. “I want to go home.” Marissa had made up her mind, whether he liked it or not.
“Don’t you think we should discuss this first?”
She slipped his engagement ring off her finger and let it drop noisily on the table.
***
Travis felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest.
“What the hell’s going on?” As he stepped toward her, Marissa stepped back, lifting her hands defensively.
“You tell me.”
This wasn’t about the wedding – it couldn’t be, surely.
“Meeeooooooow.” Jonah rubbed his neck against Travis’ leg.
“Not now, Jonah.”
Marissa glared at him, then moved forward and picked the cat up. Well, at least she was closer.
As Marissa stroked his head, Jonah’s purring became louder and louder. Marissa went outside and sat on the steps, still holding Jonah.
Travis followed.
“Beautiful day.” Corny, Johnston. Very corny.
Marissa looked sideways at him. “Is it?”
Travis sat down on the steps next to her and draped his arm around Marissa’s shoulders. She shrugged it away.
“Perhaps not.” He was restless, couldn’t sit still. Travis stood, then walked the length of the veranda. Endless pacing, waste of time, waste of energy. “Marissa,” He stopped pacing to think. What could he say, after all? You were right – I am loaded. Hell, she was mad enough at him already.
He looked down at her, and noticed Marissa staring. Travis straightened his shoulders. Be a man. Tell her, get it over with.
He cleared his throat. “Okay – you were right.” See? That wasn’t so bad.
“I was right, it isn’t a beautiful day, or I was right, you’re loaded?” She pursed her lips at him and Travis felt a shudder roll through him. Damn, she was beautiful when she was angry.
“Both.” It came out almost as a squeak. Travis cleared his throat again.
Marissa lifted Jonah from her lap and placed him on the grass. Straightening her skirt as she stood, Marissa glared at him again. “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do – let me explain. Over coffee?” She pursed her lips again. He seemed to be losing the battle. “Please?” This time Marissa nodded.
When he said coffee, she thought he meant coffee; like ‘let’s sit on the sofa and have a coffee’ coffee. But no, he wanted a cappuccino, so they had to go all the way into Maldon to get a cappuccino. How could they talk with everyone listening to the conversation?
Marissa contemplated him over the top of her cup. Perhaps that was the idea. Maybe he thought she would just listen, accept what he said and not question what he said, not argue? Huh! Fat chance.
“So you see, I have no choice. If I don’t look after the investments, everyone loses out, not just...” His hand covered hers, and Marissa shifted in her seat. “Marissa?”
“You should have told me in the beginning.” It wasn’t that he had money that upset her. It was more that he didn’t trust her enough to tell her. Wasn’t it?
“Right.” Travis sat upright in his seat, throwing his shoulders back, then stood and faced Marissa. He shuffled until his legs were bowlegged like a cowboy in a bad western. He tipped his imaginary Stetson, and then cleared his throat. “Well, howdy Ma’am,” he drawled. “I’m Rancher Johnston, and I’m filthy rich.”
Marissa laughed. He always made her laugh, always made her happy. Wasn’t that the thing that attracted her to him in the first place?
Travis returned to his chair. “It’s no different to having a normal job really.”
“Huh?” Did she miss something?
“Investments. I work hard to make sure my money, the family’s money, is secure.” He scrutinized her for what seemed endless moments.
Marissa nodded, but couldn’t quite grasp his meaning.
“If I didn’t do this, there would be no money.” Marissa snorted. Who was he trying to kid? “All right – there would be, but we have to think about future generations as well.”
Travis reached across the table. His hand was warm, comforting. His one hand equaled almost two of Marissa’s and she felt unreasonably dwarfed.
It hadn’t bothered her before, why did it now? Because Elizabeth had called her Travis’ little girlfriend. She wasn’t anyone’s little anything. In fact, she wasn’t little.
Just because she happened to be the smallest in her family, and maybe Travis’ too, didn’t automatically make her little.
Marissa was startled when Travis put his fingers to her pouting lips.
“Okay, what’s the problem now?” She heard his long drawn out sigh, and joined him.
“Am I small? Because your mother—”
“...wears stilettos to make herself tall. And has facelifts to make herself young.” Travis grinned and the tension eased in her shoulders.
He reached into his pocket. “Marissa,” He held her shaking hand and slid Marissa’s discarded ring onto her finger. “Will you marry me?”
***
Marissa was still trying to catch her breath.
Travis had given her one day’s notice. One day’s notice! She looked out at the clouds below them, and caught glimpses of the ocean as the sunlight bounced off its peaks.
Was it really only a few hours ago that they had stood in a queue at the airport?
Don’t worry about clothes, Travis had said. We’ll buy some when we get there. Buy some when we get there? Enough for a whole month? Holy heck! How much money did he have?
Consequently, Marissa had left Australia with only a small suitcase.
Her biggest concern was the cats. What would happen to Jonah and Ceefor? But Travis organized for his sister to move into his place, along with Ceefor.
As far as Travis was concerned, there was nothing else to organise except getting themselves to the airport on time – which they did. Just.
It had been ages since Marissa had been to Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne, and it had changed so much she wouldn’t have a hope of finding her way around.
Thank goodness Travis was there! She would have gotten lost for sure, amongst all the hustle and bustle of businessmen and women on their way to Sydney and Brisbane, and children running about, and holidaymakers on their way to exotic locations around the world.
She was spilling over with anticipation of the weeks ahead.
Travis brushed his finger against her cheek, startling Marissa. “Everything okay?”
Okay? Everything was fantastic. Life was incredible, and Travis was... amazing.
Marissa smiled, nodded. Travis lifted her hand to his lips. They were warm, inviting. She stared at his mouth. She wanted to kiss him, longed to kiss him. Short of making a spectacle of herself right there on the plane, she would have to wait until they arrived.
She leaned across the seat, reaching her arms around his neck, and pulled Travis toward her. Marissa gently brushed her lips against his, and felt him smile against her face.
She heard the click of his seat belt, and his arms came up around her back. And she was worried about making a scene?
“Er, excuse me?” The hostess hovered above them – her expression one of apology. “Wine, champagne, soft drink?”
“Uh, champagne, thanks.” Travis sat back into his seat.
Marissa touched her hands to her cheeks. She could feel the color creeping up her face. Travis glance
d at her and laughed.
“It isn’t funny,” she whispered.
“Yes it is,” he laughed, and clinked their glasses together. “To love, happiness and a long future together.”
***
Marissa stood next to Travis on the cliff, her long hair braided with jasmine. The wind loosened some strands, blowing them across her face. Travis removed them with his fingers.
The sky was lit up with an array of colors, but as Marissa looked back over her shoulder, the brilliant orange of the sun stood out the most.
The evening was warm, and her ankle length dress flapped about in the light breeze, the ribbons holding the lacy bodice threatening to come undone.
Travis stood next to her, his hair neatly trimmed, his square jaw freshly shaved. She leaned into him and breathed in his masculine after-shave, savoring it for as long as she could.
Marissa stepped back, looking up into his face. He looked wonderful, sexy, and particularly attractive. He wore the finest of clothes. His favorite old threadbare jeans were packed away, out of sight, and the ever-creasing overshirt that Travis loved so much was today forgotten.
They needed this break, both of them. Who would have guessed at Hawaii? Certainly not Marissa.
Travis leaned into her, and kissed Marissa’s neck. “I love you, Marissa Johnston.”
What would Elizabeth say, Marissa wondered, when she found out they’d eloped?
Epilogue
Marissa was deep in thought as she lay on the four-poster bed. Her sixth novel was almost finished, and she had planned on having it completed some weeks ago.
The tiny babies that she nurtured within her gave a giant kick. Marissa leaned back against the pillows and sighed, knowing they would soon be arriving, their presence long awaited.
“Mummy, mummy!”
Travis entered the room carrying a breakfast tray, their four-year-old daughter Crystal, pushing her way past him.
Crystal swung herself up onto the bed with practiced precision. Her tiny hand went to Marissa’s swollen belly automatically.