Marriage Make-Up & an Heir to Bind Them

by Penny Jordan

  It would have been perfect if she didn’t feel like Theo was wearing his CFO hat and picturing her in her Makricosta blouse.

  “Wine?” he asked.

  “I thought you don’t drink?”

  “I thought you might.”

  “Sometimes.” She flushed at how awkward this was. Maybe they needed Zephyr between them after all. “If it’s a special occasion, but I don’t need anything tonight.”

  This wasn’t special, even though the candle glinted flecks of golden light off the silver and touched sparks in the crystal wine goblets. Even though a pianist tickled keys, accompanying a bassist who stroked sensual notes from her instrument.

  Even though she was with the only man who’d ever melted her frigid libido and still managed to kindle heat in her when he seemed completely oblivious to her presence.

  He ordered starters and painful silence ensued.

  “Bina got to the room all right?” Of course she had or he wouldn’t have left Zephyr. Try harder, Jaya.

  “She looks like you,” he said with a lift of his brows. “It was startling. Made me think that’s what our—your daughter could look like, if you had one. People must make that mistake often?”

  “All the time.” She swallowed, trying not to latch onto what she thought he’d meant to say. Our.

  More silence. This dress, coming out, it was a huge mistake. He wasn’t comfortable so she couldn’t relax.

  Theo eyed Jaya’s tense posture. His own prickling tension was at maximum. She couldn’t relax, probably because she felt threatened by his mood.

  A pile of ferocious curses piled up in the back of his throat. He was so angry, he could barely think straight. Damn it, why did this exquisite woman keep winding up beyond his reach?

  He wished he could take back his confession of his desire. He’d come on strong, had taken a lot of heart from her saying she was still attracted to him, but the rest... Hell, no, nothing between them was simple anymore. What had seemed like an obvious solution, marriage, was now a minefield.

  And yet...

  Bloody hell, he had to let it go. Maybe if he hadn’t told her before she explained about her past that he was still hot for her. Maybe if he wasn’t currently simmering with insane want, but wow, that dress.

  Ah, hell, it wasn’t the dress. He’d seen a thousand scraps of silk and sequins on a thousand beautiful women and this wasn’t the most elaborate or provocative. It was exactly Jaya’s style: pretty and feminine, accented with fine metallic strands, but rather sweet overall.

  It wasn’t the dress that smelled so good he felt drugged. He didn’t want to run his hands over sheer fabric and frilly ruffles. He didn’t want to taste stitching.

  Her skin called out to him. Her lips.

  He forced himself to look away and sip his ice water. Cool his head. Somehow he had to kill off this attraction so he wasn’t scaring or intimidating her.

  “I shouldn’t have told you,” she said so softly he wasn’t sure he heard her. When he glanced at her, her delectable mouth was pouted in misery. “It changes how you see me, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he allowed with brutal honesty, distantly aware that wasn’t the right thing to say, but he struggled with emotions at the best of times and these were some of the worst he’d ever encountered.

  Her deep brown eyes widened in a flinch of stark pain, gaze not lifting from the tabletop. Then she struggled to regain her composure, brow working not to wrinkle, mouth trembling until she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “For God’s sake, Jaya. I don’t think less of you. I hate myself. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you the way I did. You deserved better.” His voice came out low and jagged, as if he’d smoked ten packs of cigarettes and was hardly breathing through the thickness clogging his lungs.

  “Better than the first real pleasure I’ve known with a man? Better than Zephyr?” she challenged shakily.

  He was rarely shocked speechless. When he pinned his lips, it was because he was prudent, not because he couldn’t think of what to say, but her words blanked his mind. Bali had been a mistake, he kept telling himself, but she seemed to be lifting his actions out of reprehensible into something that was almost exalted. He didn’t know how to process that.

  “It’s like your back, Theo. I’ll always have scars, but they fade a little more each year. If you make enough good memories, they push the bad ones away.”

  He sat back, startled by her insight. He snorted. “I guess that’s my problem,” he admitted as realization dawned. “I’ve never made any good memories. Well, maybe one.” He couldn’t help the significance in the cut of his glance toward her. She was so beguiling. Their night together eclipsed every other memory he had.

  Even in the low candlelight, he could tell that her brown skin darkened. Her flustered hands moved into her lap and she ducked her head.

  “You know I wouldn’t—” he began, catching himself from reaching for her. She was such a panacea for him. He wanted to eat her up. Drown in her. She was everything good that could ever be for him, but he couldn’t be greedy about it. He had to hang on to his control.

  Her reserve was more than natural modesty, he reminded himself. Her sexual inhibitions were well founded and he’d take a thousand beltings before he’d frighten her with his desire. If she had used him that one night, because she was having a brave moment, well, lucky him.

  “I’m glad if our night is a good memory for you, but I don’t expect it to happen again. If that’s why you’re reluctant to marry me, we can keep it platonic.” He couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth, but having even a small part of her in his life seemed like better than nothing.

  Again her eyes widened like she was enduring a wave of agony. “Because now you know I’m soiled goods and don’t want—”

  “What? No!” His hand went onto her arm involuntarily. He had to hiss in a breath as he strove for control and lifted his touch away, but only managed to transfer it to the back of her chair. Leaning in close, he said, “If you think I’m not aching to make more first-class memories with you, then you are even more naïve than I’ve always feared. The appeal you have for me... It scares me, Jaya. You’d be terrified if you knew how intense my desire is.”

  He forced himself to retreat into his own space. A deep gulp of ice water did nothing to clear his head. The glossy window reflected his iron hard expression back to him as he braced himself for her to bolt. He should have kept all that to himself.

  She sat in quiet contemplation, then confessed softly, “I don’t know why you’re the only man who makes me feel...well, anything, but you are. That scares me. I feel like I could be at your mercy, not because of your will. It would be lack of my own.”

  Excitement pierced him, the arrow so thickly coated in desire he had to close his eyes and concentrate on his breathing. Swearing under his breath, he opened his eyes and let her see the hunger in him, just for a second.

  “You’re killing me. You know that,” he accused, voice buried in a chest.

  Her lashes flickered and she quivered like one of those plucked strings that were trying to set a calm mood while he was a werewolf fighting to stay inside his human skin.

  “I don’t mean to,” she whispered. “I just want to be honest.”

  A bleak laugh escaped him. “It would be a helluva better foundation for a marriage than my parents had.”

  She cocked her head. “They lied to each other?”

  “My mother did, yeah,” he said, distaste curling his lip. “She said Nic was my father’s. When the truth came out, things turned ugly. The only way any of us coped was to pretend. We acted like we didn’t remember Nic, like we didn’t hate our mother, like we weren’t scared of our father.” He clenched his teeth, startled by the ugly truths that poured like fresh blood from a new wound. “Your honesty i
sn’t comfortable for me. I’m not used to it, but... It’s reassuring.”

  She offered a crooked smile.

  His heart tipped on its edge, making him bold enough to add, “So whatever you’re thinking about how I might be thinking of you differently, it’s only that I’m trying to offer you reassurance as well. I won’t force you into anything, Jaya. Not marriage, not my bed.”

  Her watchful gaze wasn’t easy to bear. He felt like his entire future hung in the balance.

  “I believe you,” she murmured, leaning on her elbows. “And I don’t feel coerced. I know that marriage is probably best for Zephyr, but a lifetime is a long time, Theo. I can’t just leap in. I need to know what it would look like first.”

  “I have no idea,” he admitted, tensing against the million ways he could fail her without even being aware of it. “What do you want it to look like?”

  She sat back to consider that and her gaze snagged on the couple at the next table as they rose and moved onto the dance floor. Her face became younger, cast with the yearning of a woman who loved to move to music.

  “Would you dance with me?” she queried.

  “Of course.” He stood and held out his hand while calling himself a shameless ass for seizing the excuse to touch her. Maybe it was even a small test to see if she would accept his hands on her. He could live within just about any limit, so long as he knew what it was. He was going crazy not knowing where his lines were with her.

  “I meant, you know, are you the kind of man who would dance with his wife?”

  “You weren’t asking? Then I am. Will you dance with me, Jaya?” He picked up her hand, oddly pleased with the shy smile she hid with a dip of her chin.

  He’d learned early that the guy who was willing to dance got laid. He was proficient at most of the ballroom moves, but she made him hyperaware of himself as he fit them together, especially because he was on guard against being too aggressive. He wasn’t quite as smooth as he’d wish, but he wasn’t standing on her painted toes, either.

  She was awkward, her hesitation seeming more from surprise and unfamiliarity with formal dancing than apprehension. After settling her hand on his shoulder and her fingers into his palm, she took a step forward instead of back, then cringed in horror.

  He grinned. “It’s fine, just follow my lead.”

  She did and because she was naturally graceful and rhythmic, they moved well together—not unlike the way they’d meshed in Bali. It was her same quiet trust that made it possible, heating him to his core as he absorbed it, solidifying his need to take great care with her, stoking his need.

  “Question answered?” he managed to say, trying to keep things light.

  “You’re sneaky,” she accused. “Maybe you don’t bully or pressure, but you’re not above seduction, are you?”

  He stopped dancing and drew in a deep breath, harking back to when he’d done everything he could to lure her by her own desire into his bed. “Jaya—”

  “It’s okay, Theo. I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to men.” She nudged him back into leading. “I’ve never danced like this, never been on a real date. If you don’t make advances nothing will happen because I don’t know how. That’s really why I’m scared to say I’ll marry you. You’re the first man who’s asked.”

  Reservations paralyzed him, but when he used the excuse of an approaching pair of dancers to pull her close, his misgivings slipped from his mind. The contact of her abdomen hitting his hips detonated a subdued explosion that drained his thoughts.

  Her lips parted as they held the pose for an extended few seconds, eyes locked.

  She took a sudden step back, but didn’t release his hand when he relaxed his hold on hers. Chewing her lip, she seemed to debate whether to continue their dance.

  “I’m always like this around you,” he admitted under his breath, throwing his ego into the wind. It might be the dumbest thing in the world to think this would reassure her, but if they had agreed on nothing else, they were being honest with each other. Maybe, just maybe, if she knew she could trust him, he could have her in his bed again someday. “Every time I saw you in Bali, I was aroused. Just knowing I would see you would do this to me. I’ve only ever acted on it the once, Jaya, when you wanted me to.”

  They still weren’t moving, only holding the half embrace while music and couples swirled around them. He searched for uneasiness in her, but her eyes were clouding with confusion and... Was it desire?

  If he cupped her breast right now, he wondered, would he find her nipple pebbled and sensitive, aching for the pull of his mouth?

  He swallowed, dying as he balanced on the knife’s edge between hell and ecstasy.

  “Would you kiss me, please?” she asked softly. “I’ve been wondering—”

  He did, not debating, just grasping at permission to capture her parted lips with his. Deep in the back of his mind he reminded himself, Easy. Go slow.

  It was agonizing to hold himself back. She was so exquisite, her mouth the pillowy satin welcome that tortured his dreams. By some feat of inhuman discipline, he kept his hand light when he clasped the side of her neck where she was warm and soft. He raked his mouth across hers in gentle ravishment, drinking in the clove and nutmeg taste of her.

  Jaya liked these extra high heels. Her neck didn’t hurt from tilting up to Theo’s kiss. Her arms rose of their own accord to curl behind his neck. She opened to the tip of his tongue with a hitch of her breath and started to arch into him.

  His hands hardened on her hips, pressing her into her shoes as he lifted his head.

  “I was wondering, too.” His voice sounded like it originated in the bottom of his chest and came out in a purr like a high performance engine. “We’re still incredible together. Make sure you take that into consideration.” He circled his thumbs on her hips.

  She ducked her laugh into his collarbone, hand pressed to where his heart slammed in the tense cage of his ribs. Oh, Theo. She had missed him so much. In this second, all she could think was that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, feeling like this.

  It reminded her of that fearful moment in Bali when she’d closed her eyes and grasped at her own future. There had been consequences to her actions that she hadn’t foreseen. She ought to show a little more sense this time. Marriage was the oldest form of subjugation in history.

  But she didn’t believe it would be that way with him. Perhaps she was fooling herself, but she felt more like a mammal with the mate she was meant for. Whether she said yes today or years from now, no man was ever going to have this same effect on her. In her heart she was already tied to Theo. Hesitating to make it official seemed like fighting the inevitable.

  On the other hand, was money and sex enough? Could Theo ever give her the things she really craved from a lifetime with a man?

  “Our food has arrived,” he said, nudging her back to their table.

  Her pulse jittered from his touch as she sat down and tried to take in the scorched scallops atop crunchy potato cakes.

  When they were alone she asked, “Where would we live?”

  “With me,” he deadpanned. “That’s the point.”

  She laughed, but he only scowled as he chewed and swallowed.

  “I need to talk to Adara about curtailing the worst of my travel. Whether you marry me or not, I have to be available to Zephyr, but I’ll always have to do some globe-trotting. I don’t particularly care for Paris as a base, but it’s closer to India than New York. Could you stand it?”

  “Could you?” she challenged, taking in the tight grip he had on his fork with a tilt of her equilibrium into caution. “I’m actually quite flexible. I’ve started over in new places several times. You live in your helicopter. You’re used to doing what you like. Having a wife and child would turn your life upside down, Theo.”

 
“I’m aware,” he stated flatly, setting down his utensils to stroke restless hands up and down his thighs. “And I won’t claim that I’d be easy to live with, especially in the beginning, but I keep coming back to what I can offer you in terms of security and protection. Marriage is the simplest way to accomplish that.”

  She ought to be flattered, she supposed. There was a type of caring in his bland statement, even if it was the kind one usually showed to, say, an expensive boat or maybe a herd of cattle. On some level he valued her, she deduced. That was nice, but it wasn’t enough to sustain a marriage.

  Their conversation drifted to what kind of placement she could have with Makricosta’s, as his wife or not, and they didn’t talk about marriage again until they’d returned to the suite.

  First they had to release the matronly Madame Begnoche and Theo had to negotiate a peace treaty with Bina. She was very sad to learn that Theo wanted Zephyr living with him rather than coming to South America with her and Quentin.

  “Pyaari beti,” Jaya reminded gently, “You know I was going to stay in France and not come with you and your papa.”

  “I know, but, but...” Her voice threatened to crack into sobs.

  Theo extracted a business card and wrote on it before he handed it to Bina. “This is my personal mobile. Call anytime you are missing Zephyr. We probably won’t be able to come to you that day, but we’ll try to visit within the week. Or, if your father agrees, I’ll bring you to visit him. We’ll work it out, I promise.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a heavy but mollified voice, blinking her damp doe eyes.

  When she held up her arms, Theo didn’t get it. Jaya had to touch his shoulder and nod. “She wants to hug you.”

  “Oh, um.” Clearing his throat, he went down on one knee so Bina could squeeze his neck with her spindly arms. He patted her back awkwardly and deflated with a heavy exhale after she left to meet Oscar and the limo, Theo’s treat.

  “Thank you,” Jaya said to him. “But you can’t keep offering to fly me and my family around the world.”

  “Why not?”