His San Diego Sweetheart

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His San Diego Sweetheart Page 9

by Yahrah St. John


  “You—you can’t know that.” The words stammered out of her mouth.

  “Oh yes I can, because I can read you, Miranda.” His voice was low and husky. “I can see it in your eyes when I touch you, but you refuse to accept what’s between us, so don’t worry, I will leave. But I want you to think about what could have been when you’re alone in the cold bed tonight.” Vaughn rose to his feet. And as much as it pained him, physically as well as emotionally, he was going to have to walk away. “I’m going to go sleep on the couch.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You could sleep here.”

  “I can’t sleep beside you, Miranda, and not make love to you. Sleep well.” He caressed her cheek and with one final glance at her trembling lips left the room and headed for the bathroom.

  Once he’d shut the door, Vaughn leaned heavily against it. Stripping, he headed straight for the shower and turned on the taps as cold as he could take it and then stepped inside. He let the cold water pound on him in the hopes that it would make him less aware of his body and the raging hard-on he had which would not be assuaged tonight. He sluiced water from his face and propped his hand against the tiled wall and allowed his body to sag.

  How the hell had they gotten here?

  He hadn’t started the day with the intent of taking Miranda to bed. He’d just wanted to give her an amazing wedding day from start to finish, from the one-of-a-kind designer gown, to the romantic beachside ceremony and the glittering reception with champagne and caviar. He’d wanted to give her the world.

  Then he’d gone and mucked it all up by coming to the honeymoon suite. Vaughn squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled the memory of Miranda walking down the aisle and how stunningly beautiful she’d looked. The way her eyes sparkled from across the room throughout the night. The way she’d felt in his arms when they’d danced. He felt so connected to her and he hadn’t known he was going to feel this way.

  He hadn’t known that he’d feel so unrestrained toward her and that her drugging kisses would lead him to peel the wedding gown from her glorious body and start making sweet love to her. His senses had left him and her dazed expression just now told him that perhaps he had gone too far. He just hadn’t known how to pull away. He’d been overtaken by an all-consuming desire to mate with her and make her his.

  Wrenching off the taps, he reached for a towel to dry himself. He couldn’t have predicted that she would withdraw from him, not after she’d had a spectacular orgasm by his touch. But she turned him down leaving him this sorry option to put himself to bed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he found Miranda sound asleep on the pillow with the lamp still on. Rose petals were scattered around the floor because he’d pushed them off in his haste to be with her. As he turned off the bedside lamp, there was an ache in his groin from unfulfilled sexual desire.

  When he returned to the sitting room he saw Miranda’s wedding dress lying in the middle of the suite. When she’d slipped out of it earlier, he’d thought they were finally about to do what came naturally between a man and a woman. But once again, she’d gotten spooked. He wanted to kill the bastard who hurt Miranda and shook her confidence and made her skittish about intimacy. He’d been astounded at just how good and right it felt to have her in his arms. Next time, he would take it slow. The next time he got a chance to be with Miranda, he’d make sure they were both completely satisfied.

  Chapter 7

  Miranda woke up the next morning with a throbbing in her temples. She’d drunk too much champagne at the wedding and had the headache to prove it. Slowly, she sat upright and began massaging her temples. Last night after Vaughn had walked out on her, she’d stared at the ceiling wondering if she had indeed made the wrong decision. She’d done it for her own self-preservation, but that hadn’t stopped her from staying up half the night because as Vaughn predicted, she had wondered what if. When he’d emerged from the bathroom, she’d feigned being asleep when in fact she’d been anything but. She was buzzing with arousal and had stared endlessly at the clock until she must have eventually dozed off.

  She was about to get up when the bedroom door opened and Vaughn walked in carrying a mug of what she hoped was coffee and a bottled water. “Thought you might need this,” he said when he approached. He placed the mug of coffee on the nightstand and handed her the bottle. “And take a couple of these.” He handed her some ibuprofen.

  She went to reach for them and realized that when she’d sat up, the sheet had fallen to her waist and her breasts were completely bare to Vaughn’s gaze. But instead of looking at her hungrily as he’d done the night before like he wanted to devour her, he seemed oblivious. “Thanks.” She accepted the pills and watched Vaughn quickly look away.

  Was he still mad at her for the abrupt end to their lovemaking? She’d done it for both their sakes. She didn’t want to confuse love with sex. And that was exactly what she would have done if she’d made love to him. She knew herself. Couldn’t he see this was for the best?

  “You should shower and get dressed,” Vaughn said as he moved toward the door. “I’ve some business to take care of today.”

  “Oh, that’s fine, I have plenty of things to do.”

  “Then you’d better change your plans because you’re coming with me.”

  Miranda stared at him, befuddled. He wanted to spend time with her after last night’s debacle? She’d have thought he would be running in the opposite direction.

  “I’m speaking at the USS Midway Museum so you need to get showered and change. So chop-chop.” He clapped his hands together.

  “You don’t really need me there.”

  His brows rose a fraction. “C’mon, think, Miranda. What if the overseers of your trust found out we spent the day apart right after our wedding? What would they think? You don’t want them to realize our marriage is a fake, do you? You’d lose everything.”

  Their marriage was fake. He’d said it aloud. And the words hung like an albatross in the air. “No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her voice was strained when she spoke.

  “Well, then get dressed and meet me in the living room. I just called down for breakfast and it should be here any minute.” Vaughn sauntered out of the room, leaving Miranda clutching the sheet and wondering how she was going to make it through the day with this frisson of sexual energy between them.

  * * *

  Vaughn watched Miranda as she pushed the omelet on her plate back and forth with her fork. She was no more eating her breakfast than he was this morning. All he’d managed was a cup of coffee to ensure he wasn’t cranky throughout the day. He’d spent a restless and uncomfortable night on the couch when he’d much rather have been in bed with Miranda.

  But she was closed off.

  Afraid to allow anyone inside her heart, let alone her bed.

  Vaughn wondered just how bad it must have been for her with her previous boyfriends. They must have done some number on her to keep men at arm’s length. She’d certainly been doing so from the moment they met, inviting him to her room, but sending him away, sneaking out of the hotel and finally last night giving him a taste of heaven, only to pull away.

  What would it take to convince Miranda he was a stand-up guy?

  Time.

  In time, she would see that he wasn’t like the other men she’d dated. She’d find out her husband was so much more. Even though she was testing him. “We should leave.” Vaughn stood. “The ceremony is in an hour and we don’t want to be late.”

  “Of course.” Miranda rose to her feet and followed him to the door. She glanced behind her. “Sorry about breakfast. I wasn’t very hungry.”

  “You had a long night,” he replied as he placed his hand at the small of her back, closed the suite door and guided her to the elevator bank. The elevator ride down seemed interminable with the silence between them. Vaughn was thankful when it came to an end and they reached the waiting car. After l
ast night, he was in no mood to drive and had hired a car for the day. He opened the door and helped Miranda inside. When he joined her, she asked, “No sports car?”

  “Nah, I’m a bit tired after the wedding yesterday.”

  “But yet you didn’t cancel this appearance?”

  “Why would I?” he countered. “As you’ve said, our marriage is one of convenience, so I’d anticipated that we would resume our normal lives, with a few minor changes of course. Plus, I’d committed to speaking at the reenlist ceremony before we met. I couldn’t very go well back on my word, now could I?”

  “Of course not. And I wouldn’t want you to.”

  The awkward silence between them continued the entire ride to the USS Midway. When they arrived, Vaughn hoped that seeing him in a new environment might help Miranda see him differently. See that he wasn’t like those other men. See that he cared for her and would never hurt her.

  * * *

  Miranda watched in fascination as Vaughn gave his speech onboard the floating city at sea to a group of men and women reenlisting in the United States Navy. They stood in their crisp white jumpers and hats, neckerchiefs and gleaming black shoes, staring at her husband. She’d known Vaughn had been in the Navy, but knowing and seeing him in action were entirely two different things. Even though he wasn’t in military uniform like those in active duty, he looked equally stunning in a beautifully cut suit that molded to his perfect body and long legs. He stood on the podium sharing with his comrades the importance of their service and commitment to their country.

  She was impressed.

  Vaughn spoke with passion and conviction on how the Navy shaped him into the man he was today. As she looked around the faces in the crowd, there was nothing but admiration and respect on their faces. He’d earned it serving proudly for a decade before leaving the service. Pride swelled in Miranda’s heart that he’d chosen to share this special moment with her despite the tension between them.

  The ride over to the museum had been fraught with buildup from the night before. How could it not be when she’d treated him so abominably? She should never have allowed the attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface to get that far, but she had. And because of it, she couldn’t forget Vaughn. Images of his gorgeous, sexy body had assailed her throughout the tumultuous night and any hope that sleep would claim her had been darn near impossible. And even now she couldn’t escape them.

  His piercing eyes caught hers as he spoke and unspoken words went through time and space between them. Those unspoken words acknowledged that they would have to let go of last night if they wanted to move forward in this marriage. Miranda welcomed them because she didn’t want to go back to the awkwardness of earlier that morning.

  Vaughn must have sensed her surrendering the white flag because he walked toward her after the ceremony with a smile. “Well? What did you think?”

  She beamed. “You were fantastic!”

  He grinned unabashedly. “Fantastic. Now that’s a word I like to hear. I’m glad you enjoyed it because I meant every word.”

  “I know you did,” Miranda said. “You’re a man of honor.”

  “I’m glad you can see that.”

  “I do. And for the record, that’s hard for me, Vaughn. Trust doesn’t come easy for me...” Her voice trailed off. “Just so much has happened in the past.”

  “I hear you and you won’t get any pressure from me, Miranda,” Vaughn said. “You’ve drawn a line in the sand and I’ll respect that. If you wish to change it, you’ll have to come over the line and make your feelings known.”

  Miranda nodded. If she changed her mind about their relationship, she was going to have to come to him because he wasn’t going to chase after her.

  “Good.” He offered his hand. “Come with me then. This museum is great and I’d love to show you around since we arrived just before the ceremony.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the museum and reliving the fifty years of history of the longest active Navy aircraft carrier. They toured the flight and hangar decks and looked inside the restored aircrafts and visited the command center. Vaughn took the time to explain the inner workings of an aircraft carrier like the USS Midway. They talked to a former pilot who shared some interesting stories with them. She was particularly impressed when they stopped to talk with a group of schoolchildren who were there for an onboard program to help with the sciences and math. “Prescott George is doing something unique as well with our youth,” Vaughn informed her.

  “That’s great, Vaughn. I’m sure the children appreciate the hands-on experience.”

  “We’re looking at those who are less privileged and might benefit from the armed forces.”

  “Does it have to be the Navy?”

  He shook his head. “It can be any branch. I don’t think enough young people understand all the benefits and what programs and education are out there if they serve in the military.”

  “You’re just the person to tell them,” Miranda replied with a smile. “You’re really quite captivating onstage.”

  “Why thank you, Mrs. Ellicott,” he responded.

  Hearing her new surname caused a warm tingling feeling in the pit of Miranda’s stomach. Miranda was intrigued by this more regimented side of Vaughn. Since the day they’d met, she’d only seen the carefree, live-life-every-day-like-it’s-your-last Vaughn, but in this setting, he was a leader in command of his surroundings. It excited her, but Miranda pushed it down, ascribing it to the whole “man in a uniform” phenomenon. Once they were off the ship, they would go back to normal.

  She soon learned how wrong she was on the drive back to the hotel. “Vaughn? Where are we going?” Miranda asked peering out the window.

  “Home.”

  “I thought we were going back to the hotel.”

  He quirked a brow. “What made you assume we’d be going back there?”

  “Because that’s where I’ve been staying.”

  “Well, your assumption is wrong because I made other plans.”

  “Such as?”

  “My home, where else? I have plenty of room at my place by the beach. There’s no need for you to stay at the hotel.”

  “But all my things are there...”

  “Don’t fret. I’ve had both your rooms packed up and all your belongings have been taken to my house.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You had no right to do that without asking me.”

  “I have every right, Miranda. We’re married and we should be living together. I know we married in haste and you’ve never seen where I live, but trust me, you will be more than comfortable.”

  Miranda sighed and he had a point. “I would just appreciate being consulted, Vaughn.”

  “I’m sorry, but you married a take-charge kind of man. I don’t believe in resting on my laurels—I believe in getting the job done.”

  “I’ll be sure and remember that.”

  Miranda bit her bottom lip and sulked in the backseat of the car. What right did he have to make decisions without asking her? If that was the sort of marriage he thought they were going to have, he would soon learn otherwise. She was done with being anyone’s pushover. If his house wasn’t acceptable, he’d be turning the car back around and eating those words.

  When the car pulled up to two iron gates and they swept open, Miranda got her first view of Vaughn’s place by the beach. She’d underestimated him yet again. Vaughn smiled as he helped Miranda out of the vehicle and saw her eyes widen in surprise. The property was nothing short of palatial. She loved the curvilinear design of the house that mimicked the ocean. It was white, bright and voluminous, with clean modern lines, sleek sophisticated furniture and French doors which led to a mind-blowing view of the Pacific Ocean. Vaughn showed her around the seven-bedroom, seven-bath house and Miranda’s heart stopped. She could see the ocean from nearly every room.


  The living room was spacious with a domed skylight and fireplace. There was a family room, a home theater and kitchen with a circular breakfast bar and freshly cut flowers. She didn’t take Vaughn for the fresh flower type. It was certainly a woman’s touch. A housekeeper perhaps? But it was the outdoor terrace that wrapped around the entire house that was Miranda’s favorite place. She could see herself sitting outside stargazing with a glass of wine. She turned to him as she surveyed her surroundings. “You downplayed your house. Just how wealthy are you?”

  He shrugged as he removed his suit jacket and ditched his tie. “I don’t like to flaunt my wealth. If people choose to judge me by my appearance or the fact that I’m not dressed in a suit and tie every day, then that’s on them.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Miranda raised her hand. “Your home is stunning and I admit I misjudged you.”

  * * *

  “Perhaps about everything?” Vaughn murmured. He was determined not to remain sulky and broody because Miranda was choosing to keep their relationship platonic. Instead he was more determined than ever to show her that he wasn’t the sort of man to run out on her.

  “Let me show you the rest of the place.” He walked ahead of her and punched a button.

  “Is that an elevator?”

  Vaughn turned to glance at her. “It is. I’m sure when they built the house, they didn’t fancy we’d want to climb two flights of stairs.” He inclined his head to the spiral staircase. After a short ride, the doors opened into a master suite.

  “Omigod, this is even more spectacular than downstairs,” Miranda said as she strolled through the sitting room, marble bath and large walk-in closet. When she came out, anxiety was written all over her face. “So the master bedroom takes up the entire third floor?”

 

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