by Judith Stacy
“Rachel, I…I don’t know what to say….”
“I told you what you need to say,” she reminded him. “You do love me, don’t you?”
Yes, he loved her. He’d compiled a list of the things he loved about her—he’d even written a report and drawn little hearts. He’d almost said the words to her in the study when she’d come in to ask about the week’s menu.
But standing before her now with those big brown eyes gazing up at him, holding the promise of a future he never thought he’d have, Mitch couldn’t get the words out.
“Do you love me?” she asked again.
He gulped. “I, uh….”
Rachel stepped closer and touched his arm. She rose on her toes, as she’d done so many times before, and Mitch leaned down, expecting her to whisper something to him. Instead she turned her ear to his lips.
He knew what she wanted. She’d made it easier for him, as she’d done with so many other things.
“I…love you,” he said softly.
She looked up at him with the most radiant smile he’d ever seen—ever expected to see—in his life, and his heart soared.
“I love you, too,” she told him.
He slid his arms around her and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
“You’ll get used to saying it, eventually,” she said to him, standing in his embrace. “I’ll make sure of that.”
The solitude, the intimacy of her bedchamber closed in around them.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” Mitch asked.
Her cheeks flushed pink and she backed up a step, out of the circle of his arms.
“Well, yes, I did say you could see my…my underwear,” she said, twisting her fingers together. “And it’s perfectly proper, really. We are…married and you’re…well, you are my husband.”
Mitch took both of her hands in his, thinking how utterly charming she looked, shy and timid about their lovemaking.
“Why don’t you go put on your nightclothes,” he suggested. “I’ll wait here.”
She blushed again. “Well, all right.”
Mitch removed his jacket, vest and necktie, and popped open the top button of his shirt as he stood at the door to the balcony and watched the evening sky. In the adjoining bathroom, he heard water running and Rachel moving around. When he heard her feet brush the carpet a few minutes later, he turned and his breath caught.
How beautiful she looked. She wore a pale blue nightgown and robe, buttoned up to her neck and tied with a sash. She’d taken down her hair and tied it with a ribbon. Her feet were bare and her cheeks were pink.
“Is—is this all right?” she asked quietly, holding out her arms a little. “I wasn’t sure what was appropriate.”
“It’s perfect,” Mitch said, his timid bride appealing to him as no other woman had.
He took her hand and led her to the bed. She stretched out and he sat beside her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, stroking his hand down her cheek.
She jumped at his touch, but he leaned down intending to kiss away her anxiety. Her eyes closed, then popped open.
“Is the door locked?” she asked, pushing herself up on her elbows.
“No one will bother us.”
Her eyes widened. “But what if someone bursts in? What if they see us—”
“I’ll take care of it.” Mitch hurried over to the door, threw the dead bolt and returned to the bed. “There, all fixed.”
She nodded and lay back on the bed once more. Mitch leaned down to kiss her again.
“Should we have a light on?” she asked, her gaze darting around the room. “It will be dark soon and…”
“Sure.” Mitch went to the bureau across the room, switched on the lamp, then eased onto the side of the bed once more.
Her eyes opened wider, horrified. “Oh, dear. That’s so much light. What if—”
“I’ll fix it.” Mitch hopped off the bed again, turned off the lamp, dashed into the bathroom, turned on the light and pulled the door almost closed. He returned to the bed and looked down at Rachel. “How’s that?”
“Better.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
She gazed around the room, her brow furrowed. “No, I don’t suppose so.”
Rachel lay back on the bed. She crossed her ankles, pressed her palms to her stomach, drew in a breath and closed her eyes.
“You may begin.”
Mitch looked down at his bride. He’d expected to take things slowly but this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
“Come on. Get up.” He caught her hand and pulled her upright.
“Get up?” She drew away from him but Mitch wouldn’t turn loose.
“On your feet. Let’s go,” he said, tugging her off the bed.
“Go where?”
“Outside.”
“Outside!” She dug in her heels and leaned back as he pulled her toward the balcony. “Oh, Mitch, no. Good gracious, the neighbors!”
He looped an arm around her back, halting her retreat.
“Trust me a little, will you?” he asked. Then he smiled. “I’m really very good at this.”
She gave a short, nervous laugh and allowed him to guide her out onto the balcony. He stood behind her and pulled her against him, wrapping her in his arms.
“I want us to look at the sunset,” he said.
“Oh.”
The sky overhead was dark but the horizon was lit with rays of the disappearing sun. They colored the scattered clouds with shades of blue and gray, and hints of blazing auburn.
They watched the sunset and Mitch held her in his embrace until he felt her relax against him. Then he leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across her cheek. She turned toward him and he covered her lips with his for a long moment. When he lifted his head Rachel smiled up at him. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedchamber.
Standing beside the bed, Mitch kissed her again as he opened the buttons on her robe and pushed it from her shoulders. He pulled loose the ribbon in her hair and ran his fingers through the length of it. She sighed and pressed herself against him. His long-simmering desire flamed.
Forcing himself to go slowly, Mitch turned back the covers and guided Rachel onto the bed. He pulled off his clothing and lay down next to her.
He kissed her and she kissed him back, as the heat between them built. He opened the buttons on her nightgown and pulled it over her head. She curled against him. He groaned; she gasped as their hands sought each other. He covered her with hot, heavy kisses. She trembled at his touch.
Lying fully against him, her warm body pressed to his, he marveled at her soft, giving lines, the way they fit close, as if they were meant to be together. Rachel moaned softly, her hands shyly finding their way over his body. Her timid movements nearly drove him crazy with want. When he could bear it no longer, he moved above her, kissing her mouth, her cheek, her neck.
Rachel grasped his shoulders and clung to him as he moved inside her. He stole her breath, made the world spin. The swirling emotions moved faster, urging her onward until they broke within her. She grabbed a handful of his hair and moaned his name as he shuddered above her.
“I’m hungry.”
Mitch’s words accompanied a very loud grumble in his stomach. Rachel smiled as he pushed himself up on his elbow beside her. They were still in bed, wound together in a tangle of arms, legs and bed linens.
“Good gracious, it’s late,” Rachel said, glancing out the window and, judging from the sunlight, realizing it was midmorning. She ran her fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. “We had…quite a morning.”
“And night,” he pointed out, smiling broadly. “As I told you, I’m very—”
“—good at this.” Rachel smiled. “Yes, you seem to be, but I don’t really have anything to compare it to.”
“And you never will,” he told her.
“That’s because…?” She turned her head, offering her ear.
“I love you,”
he whispered.
“I love you, too.” She gave him a quick kiss.
Mitch growled and burrowed his mouth into the soft hollow of her neck, and she giggled wildly.
She gazed into his eyes, never more happy in her life. And Mitch had never seemed so happy, either. Rachel knew that her decision had been right, that at Mitch’s side was where she belonged.
“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Mitch said. “You stay here.”
Mitch didn’t want to leave her but he was starving, and he wanted to keep up his strength. He rolled out of bed, slightly amused to see his shy bride avert her gaze as he found his underdrawers in the pile of clothing at the bedside and pulled them on.
“I don’t want to stay here alone,” Rachel said, pulling the sheet up to her chin.
Mitch sorted through the rest of the clothing and came up with her robe. He slipped it around her shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“We’ll go together,” he said.
He gathered up the rest of his clothes and went to his own bedchamber. When he returned a short while later, washed and dressed in trousers and shirt, he found Rachel in a day dress, her hair gathered in a loose knot atop her head.
Mitch slid his arms around her—he couldn’t help himself—and kissed her again.
“We’ll slip down the back staircase to the kitchen,” Rachel said. “Then we can—”
“Come back up here?”
Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink that made Mitch want to carry her back to bed on the spot. She lowered her lashes, then looked up at him.
“Is that done?”
Mitch’s heart thundered in his chest. He never imagined he could love someone so much.
Arms linked, they left her bedroom and headed down the hallway toward the far corner of the house where the back stairs led to the kitchen. As they passed the twin staircases, a man waited in the foyer. They both stopped.
“Georgie…” Rachel said.
Mitch’s blood ran cold.
He’d never met Rachel’s brother before, but Mitch knew why he was here. He’d come for Rachel’s decision.
She looked up at Mitch and he studied her face trying to glean something—anything—from her expression. Would she want her brother to come back to the family, take over the business again? Or would she leave things as they were?
An old, familiar feeling crept over Mitch, crowding out the glow of their lovemaking. She’d picked him when she said she loved him, when she invited him into her heart and into her bed. Yet there stood Georgie, the brother she’d depended on for most of her life. He’d offered to come back, to work for the family, keep everything going until he found someone competent to take over. All she had to do was tell him. He’d stay. She could have that part of her family, that much of her life back. Did she still want that?
Mitch’s heart ached. Yes, she’d picked him. But would she keep him after something better came along?
Rachel’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red as she glanced up at Mitch. She didn’t know how long George had been in the house, how long he’d waited while the two of them were making love in her room, and she was embarrassed. It was only obvious what they’d been doing.
Mitch moved ahead of her down the staircase, sheltering her from her brother’s view, shook Georgie’s hand and introduced himself. There was an awkward moment before they all moved into the sitting room.
Mitch stood by the mantel when what he wanted to do was plant himself next to Rachel, stake his claim on her, the house—his life. But he put some space between the two of them, leaving Rachel to talk with her brother.
They chatted about family—their father, Noah, Chelsey—testing Mitch’s patience. When the conversation stalled, George got to his feet and turned to Mitch.
“I’ve heard good things about you. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help the family. But Rachel’s my sister and she comes first.” Georgie turned to her. “What have you decided?”
Hours seemed to drag by as Rachel looked back and forth between the two of them. Then she shook her head.
“You don’t have to come back, Georgie. I love Mitch and we’re going to have a good life together.”
He considered her words for a moment. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right, then.” Georgie looked relieved. “I’m leaving town in a few days, as soon as some things are settled.”
“What about the lady in your life?” Rachel asked. “Are you getting married?”
“Lily says she’ll marry me. Thank God.”
“Can I at least give you a wedding?”
“She doesn’t want that, Rachel. She doesn’t want a perfect house or a perfect life. She wants me. And that makes me a lucky man.”
“So you’re really leaving?” Rachel asked, emotion rising in her voice.
“I can’t imagine I’ll ever regret my decision.”
“You’ll come back, won’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Mitch said. “Your family, your home is here. You don’t have to walk away from it.”
Georgie shook his head. “I’ll talk to Lily. I’ll think about it.”
He gave Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek, then shook hands with Mitch and left. She stood watching the doorway. Mitch moved to stand beside her.
“What about you?” Mitch asked, summoning the strength to ask. “Do you regret your decision?”
“I picked you, and I’m keeping you.” She gave him a warm smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” This time he said it out loud.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The ocean roared outside the little inn that overlooked the beach, and the cool salt air drifted in through the open window. Rachel snuggled closer to Mitch who seemed to radiate heat even now, an hour after they’d made love again. Two weeks after first sharing a bed, they’d traveled up the coast and arrived at the inn yesterday; they had yet to leave the room.
“I forgot to tell you,” Rachel said. “I received a letter from Chelsey before we left the house.”
She waited but Mitch didn’t say anything. He lay on his back, eyes closed, one arm curled around her holding her close. She thought he’d dozed off.
He roused after a moment. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s coming home in a few weeks when her classes end,” Rachel said, strumming her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest. “She wants to have friends stay with us during the summer.”
“Will they get along with Noah’s friends?”
Her younger brother had ventured out more often in the past weeks, thanks to Madeline, and had even invited his old friends to the house.
“Yes, they’ll get along fine,” Rachel told him. “Maybe Georgie and his new wife will come for a visit, too. But that will give us quite a houseful, especially if the doctors let Father return home by the end of the summer.”
Mitch smiled down at her. “I like having a house full of family.”
She smiled back at him. “Your friend Leo is welcome, too, you know.”
“I was surprised when he came by again last week to say he’s staying in the city for a while longer,” Mitch said. “But he won’t live with us.”
“I hate to think of him all alone.”
“He knows he can come to me anytime he needs something. Just the same as with you and your friend.”
“Oh, yes. Claudia. I think she did the right thing, don’t you?”
“Hell, yes.”
Rachel smiled. “When all the gossip about her calling off her marriage to Graham dies down, I think she’ll be fine. I encouraged her to find her dream and go after it.”
Mitch eased away from Rachel. “Speaking of dreams…”
He untangled himself from her and the covers and crossed the room to the suitcase Joseph had packed for him. Rachel blatantly ogled him, the hard lines and strong muscles of his body. She never tired of seeing hi
m naked.
He drew a large brown envelope from the suitcase and returned to the bed, stretching out beside her. “Your wedding present.”
She studied the envelope but didn’t accept it. “Good gracious, we’re starting to think alike. Just like an old married couple.”
Rachel dashed from the bed to her own suitcase, dug to the bottom and pulled out a smaller envelope, feeling Mitch’s hot gaze on her the whole time. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the view.
“I brought you a wedding present, too,” she said, sliding beneath the covers again.
He looked genuinely surprised.
“Me first,” Rachel said.
He looked altogether pleased with himself as she unfastened the envelope and took out a stack of documents. She gasped, seeing the familiar name on the first page. Her eyes widened.
“Is this—is this what I think it is?”
“You are now the proud owner of the City Ceramic Factory,” Mitch announced.
“Oh, Mitch!” She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him hard, and planted a big wet kiss on his cheek.
“It’s in your name. No one else’s,” Mitch said. “It belongs to you.”
“But you told me it had already been sold,” she said.
“Sold to me. I bought it. For you.”
“But how, Mitch?” She shook her head. “You bought Mr. Taft’s quarry. How could you afford both?”
“I didn’t buy the quarry,” he said. “I bought the factory for you instead. I wanted you to know how much you mean to me so I—”
“You spent all your money on the factory for me?” she asked.
Mitch nodded. “Because that’s what you’re worth to me, Rachel. Every cent I have in the world. Everything I own, everything I’ll ever have.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and she hugged him again. He allowed her affection for a moment or so, then unfolded her arms from around his neck.
“Enough crying,” he said, wagging his finger toward the smaller envelope. “What’s my gift?”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes, but didn’t hand over the envelope.
“This is for you,” she said. “But you don’t have to open it—ever, if you don’t want to.”