by Joan Reeves
Her fists pounded his back. His wife had become one formidable woman in bed. She lifted her hips, and he moved. He kissed her, loving the feel of her, the smell of her. Each stroke grew faster. She urged him on, meeting every thrust, every kiss. Her sweat-damp body slid against his.
Heart hammering, Burke gave her what her body begged for until she cried out. Then he found his own release. Gasping for breath, he collapsed on top of her, too sated to do much but try to recover. What had made Ally so aggressive in bed? He frowned. He didn't like the name that popped into his head.
"Hey, stop that." Ally kissed his frown away. She smiled dreamily. Burke kissed the damp tendrils of hair away from her face. "I don't remember from our time as man and wife that you were so. . . assertive." When she turned to avoid looking at him, he grasped her chin and made her face him.
"I. . . I don't know what came over me. I was just desperate to have you," she whispered, embarrassed by how she'd lost control.
"I liked it," Burke said, kissing her slowly.
Ally couldn't even make the excuse that she hadn't known what he was doing in luring her to his bedroom. She'd known. She'd made it beyond easy for him. Why had she fallen into his clutches? Fallen? The small voice of her conscience whispered. She hadn't fallen. She'd flung herself headlong. And rejoiced in every moment. She'd needed him like she needed air to breathe.
What about Tiffany? Her conscience whispered. Ally moved restlessly. He's my husband, she answered back. Not hers. If I have my way, he'll stay my husband too. The thought exhilarated her as much as it frightened her. Could she win Burke back?
Ally felt his hands stroking up her sides and around to her back. She should leave. She really should. But she didn't want to. She wanted to stay with him. Woo him. Win him.
His hands stole away what little will she had left. This time he set the pace, and it was as leisurely as the previous time had been urgent. Ally thought she'd go stark raving mad. He sucked her nipples until she was ready to come just from that. But he didn't give her what she wanted. Not until he'd pleasured her with his mouth, and his hands. Only then did he enter her. She groaned as he pushed inside her this last time.
Both of them were exhausted, but neither could stop. His eyes gazed into hers as he delivered each measured stroke. Each time she was close, he would stop, soothing her, quieting her. Then he'd build the unbearable tension again. By the time he let her come, her legs were wrapped around his waist, and she was demanding release. Ally loved every agonizing minute of it and rejoiced when he couldn't resist any longer.
Exhausted, Burke collapsed and rolled to her side. He pulled her against him and mumbled, "Bet Percy can't top that."
After a few minutes, his words soaked into her besotted brain. Ally's eyes flew open. Burke snored gently next to her.
Oh! How could he? What was she? Some consolation prize? Ally freed herself from his arms. Quickly she found her gown and robe and ran to the guest room. Had Burke made love to her just to get back at her for Preston?
Chapter 13
Ally slept little that night. Instead, she played the scene over and over in her mind. Maybe she had misjudged Burke. Maybe she should give him a chance to apologize or explain.
Exhausted, she fell asleep shortly before dawn. By the time she crawled out of bed the next morning, the sun had reached its zenith.
The reflection in the bathroom mirror made her groan. She took care to hide the dark circles under her eyes and make herself presentable. When she finally gathered the courage to go downstairs and confront the stern, disapproving housekeeper, the woman told her that Burke wouldn't be home for dinner that evening.
Hurt, Ally still hung around the house, thinking he might call. The hours crawled by at a snail's pace. She camped on the huge sectional sofa in the great room and dolefully channel surfed, not paying attention to any of the banal television programs.
By midnight, she was in a black mood. He'd had his chance. He'd chosen not to use it.
Her hurt grew during the following days.
Ally avoided Burke as much as possible for the next week. Since Burke had never asked for his keys back, and she hadn't offered them, she felt free to use his Jag. She took the car out each day, finding pleasure in driving the magnificent machine.
Dolefully, she regarded the fact that he hadn't sought her out at all after a night of passion that had rocked her world. Also, she chafed at the fact that he had made no effort to apologize for his thoughtless remark that smacked of her being a prize in a competition with Preston. As the days passed, she tried to convince herself that she didn't care, but she did. She cared so much that she thought her heart would break each time she thought of him.
She'd been right. A marriage in name only between the two of them couldn't work any more than a marriage in real life had worked. Somehow that affirmation did little to comfort her when she lay in bed alone each night.
This was so much worse than before. She spent her days trying to figure out why that was. Finally, she came to the conclusion that it was worse because she was mature enough now to know what real love felt like. And to know she suffered from an acute case of it with the one man she probably couldn't have.
Ally just couldn't continue playing these silly games with him. He didn't seem a bit jealous of poor Preston. She'd planned to tell Preston that he could leave, but he too suddenly seemed to be avoiding her. That was too bad. He could have cheered her up, she thought.
The day before the big party for Sakamoto, she drove down to Galveston to visit her grandmother. By now, she could shift the Jag with ease. She stomped the accelerator wishing it were Burke's foot. Maybe a sharp pain there would wake him up and make him come to his senses. And come to her.
She sped over the causeway that separated Galveston Island from the Texas mainland. The hot sunny day brought back memories of her trip to Galveston the summer after she'd graduated from high school when she’d met Burke. Growing up in Dallas, she'd spent most of her summers with her Dad's mother in Galveston. When her parents had gone to the Middle East due to her dad's job, she'd stayed with Granny Edith that fateful summer she had fallen in love with Burke. Since her quickie marriage and divorce, she hadn't returned to the island. Granny had started visiting her in Dallas.
Slowing, Ally negotiated the traffic on the main thoroughfare that led into the city. Her mind was so full of memories and regrets that she couldn’t appreciate the lush red oleanders blooming everywhere. Even though the island had lost hundreds of trees during Hurricane Katrina, it still looked like a garden paradise she briefly noted.
She turned onto the street that led to what was known as the Silk Stocking District, several square blocks filled with old mansions and Victorian-style homes, some of which had survived the killer hurricane of 1900 and the more recent storm threats too.
Ally made another turn and pulled into a narrow driveway bordered by old-fashioned yellow day lilies in full bloom. Emotion clogged her throat as she saw the creamy white clapboard house with its gingerbread painted a deep green. She'd always loved Granny Edith's island home.
As she got out of the car, her grandmother opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Ally took one look at her and crumpled. "Oh, Granny," she cried, dashing up the steps and throwing herself into her grandmother’s arms.
"Why, child, what’s wrong?" Her grandmother patted her back just as she had when Ally had been little and had turned to her for comfort.
"Everything." Ally snuffled loudly. "I can’t think of a thing that’s right."
"Oh, dear." Edith Fletcher said. "Let’s sit here on the porch, and you can tell me all about it. I made a nice banana bread this morning when you called. I’ll get us some of that and some good Earl Gray. A nice cup of tea always helps put things in perspective."
She steered Ally over to the wicker rocker and gently pushed her into it. Then she tipped the chair back and set it rocking. "I find gentle rocking and good tea will cure most of life's ills." She tipped Ally'
s chin up and smiled at her.
Ally returned her smile. "I hope you’re right."
While Granny puttered in the kitchen, Ally closed her eyes and used her feet to keep the chair rocking. The motion did soothe her. The balmy day relaxed her tense muscles. She could smell old-fashioned scented petunias and the oleander that grew between the yards on this block.
After a while, Edith came back with a tray. "Here we go." She set the tray on the small wicker table in front of a settee and proceeded to pour two cups of fragrant tea.
"I’m not really hungry," Ally said.
Edith chuckled. "I guess you have grown up, Ally. I remember when you were little, the first thing you wanted to do when you got hurt was eat."
Ally grimaced. "Luckily, I outgrew that habit, or I would be as big as the side of a barn."
"I always told you maturity and hormones would take care of your baby fat."
At that Ally had to laugh. "That and eating a healthy diet, not to mention learning to like sweating."
"I’m sure that helped a little."
Ally took the small plate of banana bread. "This really is good, Granny," she said after taking a small bite. Then she set it aside.
"Okay, now tell me. What’s your problem? Is it that husband of yours?"
"He’s not my husband!"
"I have evidence to the contrary," Edith said. "Just a minute." She went into the house but soon returned with a sheaf of papers boasting a blue cover. "Here’s what started this whole thing." Edith handed them to her. "Now, Ally, don’t be bitter."
"It’s weird how these turned up on the same day that Burke was getting married," Allie mused.
"Oh!" Edith choked and coughed.
"Are you all right?"
Edith nodded, her face very red. "Yes, just went down the wrong way I guess." Quickly, she changed the subject. "What are you wearing to the big party tomorrow night?"
Ally shrugged. "I don’t know. I had this knock out dress, but I don’t see much point in wearing it now. No one cares what I look like."
"No one? What about Burke? Doesn’t he care?"
"I doubt it. He only cares about making that deal." She looked away, blinking back the tears. "And about being the big dog on the porch," she muttered.
"What was that dear about dogs?" Edith asked, confused.
"Oh, nothing. I'm just rambling."
"I think you might be wrong about Burke not caring," Edith said shrewdly. "Maybe the problem is that you can't see his side of this."
Ally bit her lower lip. "You’re wrong. I do see his side. I guess the biggest problem is that I want to be the number one priority in his life. I care too much. He just doesn't have room in his life for anything other than that blasted company of his. He’s just using me to get that business deal through. Well, I won’t be used, Granny."
"I’m sure that's not true. Burke cares for you, Ally. I think these two weeks have been a rare opportunity for each of you to see what you lost when you walked out. And you were the one to walk out on him, child."
Ally nodded miserably. "I know. I know. You don’t know how many times I’ve regretted that night. I thought if I could just do it over that I’d get it right. But I’ve had my chance, and I think I blew it. Maybe we're both still too immature." She laughed bitterly. "Maybe we should just try again in another six years."
"Somehow I don't think a man like Burke Winslow will be on the marriage market in another six years." Edith said.
"You're right," Ally whispered. "I knew this was my last chance, and I screwed up. I did something I should never have done. Wow! Just like before."
"You didn't leave him again, did you?"
When Ally shook her head, Edith asked, "Well, what on earth did you do that was so bad?"
Ally blushed hotly. She couldn’t tell her grandmother that she'd had hot, wild sex with Burke. "Maybe I should have played hard to get," she mumbled. Like that popular rule book that was published a few years ago advised. She'd been so easy it was laughable.
"Oh, I see," Edith said, nodding. "I take the, uh," she hesitated, "earth did not move?"
Ally choked on a laugh. "Granny!"
"I may be your grandmother, but I do know how important s-e-x is to a relationship," she said primly. "So it was nothing to write home about," she stated flatly.
"No! That’s not true. It was," Ally dropped her head. She fanned her hand in front of her heated face. "Better than before," she admitted.
"Well, that’s because you are both older. Trust me, dear, sex when you're young is nothing compared to sex when you're older."
"Granny!" Ally was shocked anew. How could her grandmother even have knowledge of matters such as these?
Edith continued, "You were nothing but kids when you married." She sighed. "I always felt responsible for what happened. If you hadn’t been staying with me that summer, you’d never have met Burke. I never thought you two would run off and get married."
"Why, Granny, I didn’t know you felt that way."
"Well, I do. I’d do anything to make it right, Ally. I know your mother and Chuck have always blamed me. I thought my son would disown me after you and Burke announced you were getting married. My, but he was upset."
"Then why didn’t he and Mom put up a bigger fuss when they flew home?" Ally asked.
Edith smiled. "I asked him the same thing. He said he took one look at your young man and saw himself when he’d first met your mother."
"I never knew that," Ally said, marveling at that bit of information. She rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine what they’re going to say when they find out about this fiasco?"
"Well, if nothing comes of this," Edith began.
"And it won’t!" Ally interrupted.
"Then I don’t see any reason to tell them anything," Edith said. "I’ll keep it quiet if you will."
"Oh, Granny, you’re the best."
"I just wish old age had brought more wisdom," Edith said with a fond smile. "It’s so hard to know if you’re doing the right thing when you meddle."
"You’re not meddling," Ally said, reaching over and hugging her.
"Then let me not meddle some more and ask you this. I suspect you think Tiffany has Burke wrapped around her little finger. So what are you doing to unwrap him?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in my day, if a woman wanted a man, she went after him. As near as I can see, you have a prior claim on your man. Are you just going to hand him over without a fight?"
"But you don’t understand. He doesn’t want me. I don't think he even wants Tiffany. I think she really is just a business associate." Ally said earnestly. "I'd almost be happy for him if he did want Tiffany. I don't like to think of him without someone to love him." Tears spilled over her eyes.
Edith brushed Ally's tousled hair away from her forehead. "You're very wise, child. Men who are married to their businesses often end up lonely old men. Too late they realize what they sacrificed along the way."
"I don't want that to happen to Burke," Ally whispered.
"Then fight for him."
"But how? How do you fight a man to steal him away from a mistress when that mistress is a business? He hasn't even been home these last few nights. I just don't know what to do!"
"Are you sure about that? Let me give you something to think about. It takes two to tango."
Ally waited. Finally she said, "It takes to tango, and. . . ?" She lifted her brows in question.
"That’s all. Just think about that. If you got something from the other night that was worth writing home about, don't you think he did too?"
Ally felt the color flood her face again. "But, if that was true, why hasn't he come to me? Talked to me? At least called me?"
"Who knows? He's a man, dear. They're not logical creatures when it comes to emotions. If it weren't for women, they'd all still be living in caves. All I'm saying is think about how you felt during your, uh, night of passion. And then think how he was likely to be feeling those same emotions.
"
Her grandmother lifted the teapot. "Now, more tea before you go?"
Chapter 14
By tonight it would all be over, Burke thought, studying his reflection in the mirror. The caterer had arrived with the serving staff, and delectable odors wafted through the busy house. The last time he’d gone to check on their progress, he’d seen that everything was ready.
Silver serving dishes glittered on the buffet. Sparkling crystal waited for the bartender. Fresh flowers filled every room. Even Deirdre Henry had a smile, albeit small, on her angular face. He should be pleased. But he wasn’t.
He checked the gold watch as he closed the clasp around his wrist. He’d asked Tiffany and the rest of the staff to show up an hour early. He’d heard the doorbell ring several times so figured that they had arrived.
Tonight was the last time he would have to trot out Ally and display her as his wife. He should be relieved that their marriage of convenience was almost over. But he wasn’t. Somehow, all the joy seemed to have seeped out of his life with each day that had passed. Even Rod had commented on what a sour bastard he had become of late. It was all Ally’s fault. No matter how hard he’d tried to justify her desertion the night they’d made love, it ate at him. Why had she left him alone in the bed? Wasn’t he good enough for her? Hadn’t her world tilted on its axis the way his had when they’d looked into each other's eyes?
She’d avoided him consistently the next day and the day after. Every time he'd called, Mrs. Henry had told him she was out. He'd left messages, but she'd never returned any of the calls. Finally, even he got the message that she didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to talk with him. Didn’t want to even look at him, he guessed. She was running away from him just as she had six years ago. He didn't know why. And that made him crazy.
He'd wanted to ask her why she was doing this to him. To them. But his pride held him in check. She'd broken his heart once before, but that hadn't stopped him from falling for her all over again. That made him a fool in his eyes. And he couldn't abide fools.
He guessed she was spending her days with that damned artist from Dallas. As Burke’s mood darkened, everyone seemed to avoid him. Even Tiffany, who was usually immune to anything in the world except business, had stayed away from the office.