Marrying a Delacourt

by Sherryl Woods

  Was Michael still up? Was one of the boys sick? She peeked into Josh and Jamie’s room, saw that they were both sound asleep, then headed for the stairs. It had to be Michael.

  She crept down silently, then peered into the living room. He was stretched out in an oversized chair in front of a fire that was little more than burning embers. He was holding a half-empty glass of wine in one hand, but his eyes were closed. She inched closer, intending only to throw an afghan over him and take away the precariously balanced glass, but he opened his eyes as she neared.

  “What are you doing up?” he asked, his gaze settling on the deep V of her robe.

  Grace barely resisted the urge to tug the robe closed. She was not going to let him see that he could make her nervous with nothing more than a glance. “I couldn’t sleep,” she told him. “What about you? Have you even been to bed?”

  He shook his head. “Come over here and sit with me,” he suggested. When she didn’t move, he added quietly, “Please.”

  She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to throw caution to the wind and slide into his embrace, but were want and need enough? “Why?” she asked, her gaze locked with his.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Just because,” he said lightly.

  She shook her head. “Not good enough.”

  “Because I need you, Grace,” he said, his voice raw. “There, you got me to say it. Is that enough?”

  Was it? Whether it was or not, she was drawn across the room until she was standing beside him. Still, she didn’t join him in the chair. Watching her intently, he held out his hand.

  The instant she put her hand in his, she knew that the choice had been made. This was the man she had loved for as long as she could remember. This was the man whose slightest touch was magical. Even now, with hands clasped and nothing more, she felt the heat and tension building inside, felt her pulse ricochet wildly. Six years and nothing had changed. He still had the power to make her weak-kneed with longing.

  His thumb rested on her wrist. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he detected her racing pulse. “Come on, Gracie,” he urged, using the nickname only he had ever dared. “One more step.”

  One step, she thought. It sounded so insignificant, and yet it would change everything. It would put her back in Michael’s arms, leave her vulnerable and aching and needy. And even if she satisfied that need tonight or tomorrow or the next day, in the end she would be alone again. How could she do that to herself, open herself to that kind of pain?

  As she debated with herself, he waited, exhibiting more patience than usual. In the end, that was what convinced her. She had the sense that he would wait forever, if need be. She found that somehow reassuring.

  With a sigh, she settled in his lap, snuggled against his chest in a way that had once been as familiar to her as the rasp of his five o’clock shadow against her skin. His cheeks were shadowed now by the beginnings of a beard. With hesitant fingertips, she caressed the very masculine, sandpaper texture, then drifted lower to rest her hand against the heat of his neck.

  All the while his eyes glittered, darkened with some emotion she couldn’t quite read.

  “It’s not going to be enough,” he said at last. “I thought it might be, but it’s not. I want you, Gracie. All of you.”

  She had accepted that before taking that first step, so the words came as no shock, but the shudder of anticipation did. “I know,” she replied softly. “I don’t think a day has gone by that I haven’t wanted you. Not in six years.”

  He regarded her with apparent amazement. “Seriously?”

  “Have you ever known me to kid around about something like that?”

  A smug grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So that’s why you’ve been so tough on me whenever you had the opportunity? Sexual frustration?”

  She scowled at his assessment, started to pull away, but he held her in place with little effort.

  “Don’t go,” he said.

  “Why should I stay?”

  “Because you want to,” he suggested lightly. “And because I need you to.”

  She sighed. “Oh, Michael, I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they confuse me.”

  “I thought I was being straightforward and honest.” He took her hand and moved it to the hard shaft pressing against her. “Here’s the evidence, counselor.”

  “But that’s just it,” she said. “You and I have different definitions of need, different expectations.”

  His gaze settled on her breasts. The nipples were pushing against the silky fabric of her robe. “Are you so sure of that?”

  “It’s not all about sex,” she said impatiently. “If it were, I would have stayed with you years ago. You and I never had any problems in bed. All it took was a glance for us to be ready, a touch. I found it maddening that I could be so furious with you, so sure that I had to get you out of my life, and yet my body would betray me, just as it’s doing now.”

  “Are you so sure it’s a betrayal?” he asked. “Maybe it’s just reminding you of something that’s right, something that never should have ended.”

  “It had to end, Michael. You know it did. You weren’t ready to make the kind of commitment I needed, the kind I still need. I have to know I can count on a man, that he’s going to be there for me when it’s important, not tied up in some endless, insignificant meeting. I need to know that I’m not insignificant.”

  “The future doesn’t come with guarantees. Isn’t it enough that I’m here now?”

  “You’re only here because you were tricked into coming, because you found two scared boys in the barn and you’re too honorable to desert them. Tell me you’re not chomping at the bit to be back in Houston, back in your office with a schedule of back-to-back meetings and nonstop phone calls.”

  He hesitated, which was answer enough. Then, to her surprise, he said, “I’m not. I was before you got here, but I’m not now. I’ve never been less bored in my life.”

  “It’s been a couple of days,” she scoffed. “How long do you really think that will last? You’re a compulsive overachiever.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that to me recently.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at his irritated expression. “Tyler, I presume?”

  “Exactly. He’s never let me forget that I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life because of work—or that the worst one was missing your graduation.”

  “Since the message obviously hasn’t sunk in, apparently he hasn’t said it often enough.”

  “Who says it hasn’t sunk in?” he protested. “I learn from my mistakes.”

  “Then why haven’t you had a serious relationship in all these years?” she asked bluntly. “And don’t try telling me it’s because you couldn’t get me out of your head. I know better. I read the society pages. There’s been a steady stream of beautiful women in your life, but none of them lasted more than a few weeks.”

  He regarded her with smug amusement. “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “That you followed my love life so closely.”

  “The Houston media followed it closely. It was hard for anyone who reads the newspaper to miss. Based on what I read, I’d be willing to bet that sooner or later you got tied up in this or that and just forgot all about the lady of the moment. The next time you surfaced, you just moved on to someone new, probably because the last lover wouldn’t take you back. Or maybe because by then you’d forgotten her name.”

  He winced at the harsh assessment, but he didn’t deny it. At last, sounding wounded, he asked, “Is that what you really think? Do you honestly think I’m that cavalier about women?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No. I wasn’t cavalier about you, either. I made a mistake. A bad one. But I never stopped loving you. You threw me out, remember? You weighed everything we had against that one mistake and dumped me.”

  Grace thought she detected hurt
in his eyes to match the wounded tone in his voice, even after all this time, but surely that couldn’t be, surely she’d never had that much power over him. It was true that it had been one mistake—one huge mistake in her eyes—but there had been signs it would happen again and again.

  “You know why I did it,” she said.

  “I know what you said. I even know what you believe, but I think it was something else entirely, Gracie.”

  She stared at him in astonishment. “Such as?”

  “I think you were scared, maybe even more terrified than I was. I think I gave you the perfect excuse to run and hide behind old fears.” His gaze locked on hers. “Well? Am I right?”

  “I…” Her voice faltered. Not once had she ever considered that she had seized on a mistake to bail out of a relationship that she feared would end down the road anyway. Had being abandoned by her father made her instinctively distrust Michael—any man—right from the start? Although she didn’t like what it said about her level of insecurity, she couldn’t deny the possibility. If she’d given him a chance to prove himself back then, would Michael have changed or would he have let her down? She hadn’t wanted to find out.

  “Maybe,” she finally conceded.

  He gave a nod of satisfaction. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  He seemed so pleased, but she was more confused than ever. “Where?”

  “Out of the past and into the present,” he said. “How about it? Can we start here and now and see where it leads us?”

  She stood up to move away from him, because when she was in his arms, she obviously couldn’t think straight.

  “This isn’t the time for this,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the stairs. “The boys—”

  “Are a separate issue,” he said firmly. “This is about you and me. Are you willing to give us another chance? Or are you still too scared to try?”

  Panic welled up inside her. She wanted to seize the opportunity he was dangling in front of her, but how could she when Josh and Jamie’s fate needed to be decided? Or was that just another convenient excuse to avoid risking her heart?

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. Then, because the temptation was so powerful, she added, “Maybe.”

  As if he sensed her struggle and that the concession she was making might be the best she could do, he smiled. “‘Maybe’ is good enough for now. Go on upstairs and get some sleep, Grace. Tomorrow’s going to be a difficult day.”

  Surprised that he’d let her off the hook so easily, she nodded. “Are you coming?”

  “Are you inviting me to share your bed?”

  “No.”

  “I thought not. You go on. I’ll be up soon.”

  She started away, but his voice stopped her.

  “Gracie, you don’t have to lock your door. I can take no for an answer. I won’t sneak in and ravish you.”

  She chuckled despite herself. “Too bad. It’s been a long time since I’ve been ravished.”

  His heated gaze sent desire flaming through her.

  “Just say the word and I can change that,” he said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” In fact, she thought it was likely that she would think about very little else.

  Michael’s blood was pumping fast and furiously as he watched Grace go upstairs. A part of him cursed the fact that he’d let her get away. He knew if he’d kissed her, if he’d caressed her, even innocently, he could have persuaded her to make love with him. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here in this aching, aroused state, regretting the fact that he had a sense of decency and honor.

  She’d been right, though, this was not the time to start something, not with her emotions running high because of Josh and Jamie. He would have been taking advantage of that, using her vulnerability to get her to turn to him for more than emotional support.

  He waited for an hour after she’d left him before he too climbed the stairs and made his way to bed. He very nearly paused outside her door and reached for the knob—just to check on her, he told himself—but then he remembered his promise. He moved on to his own room and slid between the icy sheets, once more cursing the fact that he could have had her there to warm them.

  He fell into a restless sleep, tormented by dreams in which Grace turned her back on him over and over. By the time he awoke, he was miserable and out of sorts.

  A cold shower revived him somewhat. Years of forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand got him down the stairs in a reasonable mood, ready to tackle their predicament with Josh and Jamie.

  Grace barely looked at him, but he noticed she’d abandoned her more provocative shorts and tank tops for slacks and a sedate blouse. Was that for his benefit, a way to warn him off, perhaps? Or preparation for the meeting with Justin?

  Jamie looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, glanced from Michael to Grace and back again. His fork hit the plate with a clatter. “Okay, what’s up? You guys have been acting all weird since we went to town yesterday.”

  “Everything is fine,” Michael began, only to have Grace interrupt.

  “We need to tell them,” she said, putting a plate in front of him with a thump, then taking her own place at the table.

  Michael noticed she didn’t touch her food. It was evident that she, too, had lost her appetite, just as Jamie had. Even Josh was merely stirring his food around on his plate, not eating it.

  “Tell us what?” Jamie asked.

  “Michael and I have made a decision,” she began, looking to him for help.

  “Right.” He searched for a way to put it into words without scaring them half to death.

  Jamie shoved his chair back from the table so fast, it tilted over and crashed to the floor. “You promised,” he said, his voice quivering with outrage and betrayal as he stared at Grace. “You told me you wouldn’t decide anything unless me and Josh said so, too.”

  “Hold it,” Michael said. “Don’t go yelling at Grace. She’s on your side. We both are.”

  “Yeah, but you’re just like all grown-ups. You make the decisions, then we’re supposed to go along with them, right? Well, not this time. Me and Josh are out of here. Come on, Josh.”

  Josh’s eyes had filled with tears during the exchange. “But I don’t want to go.”

  “Didn’t you hear them?” Jamie said, exasperated. “They’re deciding what to do with us. They just want us to go along with it.”

  “But they haven’t said what it is yet,” Josh said reasonably. “I want to hear.”

  “Please, Jamie,” Grace said gently. “Let us explain at least.”

  He regarded her with obvious misery and distrust. “Why should I?”

  “Because I love you,” she said simply.

  The response clearly took him by surprise. “You do?”

  The mix of distrust and hope in his voice almost broke Michael’s heart.

  “We both do,” she said firmly. “That’s why this is so important. I would never, ever do anything that I thought would hurt you or go against your best interests. Please believe that.”

  Jamie seemed to be struggling with himself, but eventually he righted his chair and sat in it. “Okay, I’ll listen, but if I don’t like it, Josh and me are out of here.”

  “Fair enough,” Grace said.

  Before she could say anything, Michael heard a key turning in the front door, then Tyler’s shouted greeting from the foyer.

  “Who’s that?” Jamie asked suspiciously. He was halfway out of his chair again, ready to bolt.

  “Settle down,” Michael said. “It’s my brother.”

  Grace regarded him with surprise. “Tyler’s here?”

  Michael nodded. “I called him last night before you came downstairs.”

  “And of course I came running to the rescue,” Tyler said, strolling into the kitchen and pausing to drop a kiss on Grace’s cheek. “Good to see you again, Grace.”

  “You, too,” she said, standing. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something.”

&nb
sp; “Have you ever known Tyler not to be hungry?” Michael asked, but he regarded his brother with gratitude. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”

  Jamie had settled back in his seat, but his gaze remained wary.

  “You guys don’t look like brothers,” Josh said.

  Tyler grinned. “That’s ’cause he’s so ugly, right? I’m the handsome one.”

  “You got hair like ours, blond,” Josh said, ignoring Tyler’s claim. “Michael’s is real dark. And you got lots of muscles. You must work out a lot.”

  “Tyler works in the oil fields every chance he gets,” Michael corrected.

  “Cool,” Jamie said, his reserved facade slipping for a minute. “Is it fun?”

  “You bet,” Tyler told him, dragging a fifth chair up to the table and sliding it in next to Jamie. “Some people,” he said with a pointed glance at Michael, “don’t like to get dirty. They just want to sit in a fancy office and reap the rewards of all my hard work.”

  “Somebody has to sell that crude or it’s a waste of time bringing it in,” Michael reminded him in what was an old argument. Of course, usually the debate took place between Tyler and their father and it usually was conducted with a whole lot more rancor.

  “Old turf,” Tyler said, winking at Grace when she put a plate in front of him. “Isn’t it?”

  “I’ve been hearing it as far back as I can recall,” she agreed. “What amazes me is that you haven’t bolted for a rival oil company, where you won’t have to fight to do the job you love.”

  Tyler gave an exaggerated shudder. “Not even I am that brave. I’m not sure Dad’s heart is strong enough to take it and I don’t want to be the one who puts him in his grave.”

  He put down his fork and turned to Jamie. “Okay, enough about my career choices. Tell me about you.”

  “I’m Jamie.”

  “And I’m Josh.”

  “I heard you were hiding out in the barn when my brother found you. What’s the deal?”

  As if they instinctively trusted Tyler, both boys began spilling the events of the last few days before finally winding down.