Relieved by the reprieve, she reached up around his neck, staring into his eyes. The heady smell of him disoriented her thoughts until she swayed into him, losing all sense of time and place.
Nash lowered his head and his parted lips blazed a path along her throat. "Do you know how exciting you are? How much I want to make love with you?"
His murmur echoed with the gravelly sensuality of desire unfulfilled. He nipped at her lower lip and the persuasive insistence of his tongue caused a fluttering sensation in her stomach. He managed to convey such gentleness, tenderness, and passion in a single kiss. His hands pressed her tighter...tighter against him until she could feel the heated tumescence under the softness of his briefs. A moan lodged in her throat.
His hands left her back and wandered to the sensitive area of her stomach. She reciprocated by tangling her fingers in the soft swirls of his chest hair. He could activate such impatience in her, such a need to be fulfilled.
He must have felt it because he mumbled into her ear, "Let's move to the bed."
Nash stripped. They lay on their sides, facing each other. He stroked her face, lingering over each feature. When he placed gossamer-light kisses where his fingers had touched, she trembled. Brushing his fingertips over her mouth, he followed them with a taunting kiss that imitated and foretold of the pleasure to come. After a detour to her shoulder, he found her mouth again and danced his fingers over her rib cage.
Beth's hands moved restively from Nash's corded shoulder muscles to the exploration of the breadth of his back and the nubs of his spine. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. But not yet. Soon. Sunday night. She wanted the past settled. She wanted to be free of it.
Instead of telling Nash she loved him, she satisfied herself by provocatively touching his lips with her tongue and rubbing her breasts against his chest. His deep indrawn breath excited her with the knowledge that she could arouse him to the same tingling pitch she was experiencing.
Nash kneaded her buttocks, pressing her against his arousal. When her passion flared in her eyes, he pulled her leg over his hip and took a deep long kiss that led to another...and another. Their touching, reaching, yearning, became urgent and desperate. Fusion was hot and explosive. Nash pulled back, then drove in deeper.
Beth abandoned herself to the tide of love that washed over her. Undulation after undulation of escalating pleasure had her clasping Nash tighter, begging him to knife deeper, arching into each of his thrusts until she climbed to the tip of the highest wave. She emitted a cry as old as womanhood. It was the catalyst that brought Nash to a trembling release.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nash stood in Shannon's kitchen Saturday evening, grinning like a besotted adolescent. "What do you think?"
Shannon's "ooh" of approval when she took the small velvet box from his hand reassured him his choice had been a good one. "I don't know about Beth, but I wouldn't mind having one of these. A heart-shaped diamond ring. Am I crazy or does it have a blue tint?" She turned the box so the light hit the ring at various points.
"It's a blue diamond. Different, like she is. Do you think she'll like it?"
Shannon closed the box and handed it back to him. "I don't think the ring's the issue. If you're going to propose, do you think she'll accept?"
He'd wanted to chase after Beth this weekend, follow her and find out if the trip had anything to do with John Winston. Intuition told him it did. His stomach turned over. Was she going to return home and tell him they were finished? He couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe Beth would have taken their relationship this far if she didn't love him. But why hadn't she said it?
He hadn't told her he loved her, either. After she'd left today, he'd realized that was a mistake. Maybe if she knew how he felt, she would have changed her plans this weekend. Instead of kicking himself over and over, impulsively he'd gone out and bought the ring. Tomorrow night she'd know exactly how he felt. He loved her. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to have children with her. He wanted to grow old with her.
But what did she want?
"Nash?" Shannon brought him back to the present.
He pocketed the ring and stifled the edginess caused by waiting. "Before I ask her, we're going to get everything out in the open."
"You're going to tell her you know about her past?"
"Yes."
"You look worried."
"I don't know how she's going to feel that I knew and didn't tell her."
"Can't you just not say anything?"
He gave her a measuring glance. "No. We can't begin a marriage based on deception. I hate secrets and this one's killing me. I never should have tried to elicit her trust by keeping quiet."
Shannon stretched on her tiptoes and lifted the cake holder down from the top of the refrigerator. "I don't know what you think Beth's done, but if what you know is true, can you handle that?"
"I can handle anything if it means we have a future together."
Her smile curved in a soft arc as she set the holder on the table and lifted the lid. "You really love her."
"I love her. And I need her. As much as I need air to breathe. She's sunshine and flowers and hope."
Shannon contemplated him for a few moments. "You haven't known her long--a month, six weeks."
Her comment surprised him. "I don't need six months or a year to know her, or to know how I feel about her."
"Isn't she the first since Monica?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you don't have feelings piled up that need to come out and she's available?"
He leaned against the counter. "Shan, aren't you happy for me? What are you trying to do?"
"I like Beth." Opening a drawer, she removed a knife to cut the chocolate cake. "I'm simply playing devil's advocate. This is a big step."
Trust had always been a problem for Shannon, too. Because of their father's irresponsible behavior, it had been difficult for her to trust men. She'd dated Wayne for a year and had been engaged for another year before she finally agreed to set the date.
Nash tried to keep the impatience from his voice. "I don't need more time or to date a dozen more women to know Beth and I are right together."
She sighed and removed a pack of paper plates from the cupboard. "I'm not trying to project my fears on to you. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"It wouldn't be the first time. If I do get hurt, it's my own fault. Beth and I should have had a discussion weeks ago. I should have gotten everything out in the open. Now, I will."
She looked over her shoulder. "It's not your responsibility alone."
He pushed away from the counter, skimmed his finger along the bottom edge of the cake to gather icing. "I know. But sometimes one person has to take the lead. If I'd opened up with Monica, suggested we get counseling, maybe the marriage wouldn't have fallen apart. Somebody has to take the risk first. If is has to be me, so be it."
Shannon slapped his hand. "You've changed. From the first day you met Beth, I could see it happening."
He licked his finger and grinned. "For better or worse?"
"Better. You laugh more, you're relaxed even when you're not with the kids. And you're not working so much or keeping such a slavish schedule." She grinned back. "One could say you've become more flexible."
"One could stop looking so smug."
Shannon's impudent smirk reminded him of when they were kids and she'd stick out her tongue at him. Before he could counterattack, Wayne came into the kitchen carrying Davie.
Wayne nodded to Nash in greeting, then turned to address his wife. "Hon, his nose is still running and he has a low- grade fever. Where did you put the liquid Tylenol?"
Shannon immediately went to feel the back of Davie's neck and kiss his forehead. "It's on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet."
Wayne left with Davie, Shannon's eyes following their every step. Nash knew she worried incessantly where the kids were concerned. "It'll pass, Shan. It's just a cold," he offered gently.
She turned to him as if surprised she was so transparent. "He caught it because he's with fifteen other kids in day care." Shannon gnawed on her bottom lip. "Maybe I should check around for someone who keeps two or three kids in her house. I didn't have much time and this daycare center had such a good reputation..."
Wayne and Davie returned in time to hear her last comment. Davie rubbed his nose with his wrist. "Uncle Nash, I made friends. Lots of them."
Nash held out his hands and lifted Davie from Wayne's arms. "I bet you did. Do they know how to play marbles?"
"I'm teachin' Jenny, but she's not as good as Beth."
Nash rumpled Davie's hair and gave the boy a hug.
Wayne took Shannon by the shoulders. "He loves it at day care. It's good for him to socialize with somebody other than his brothers. So stop worrying." He gave her a quick squeeze, then turned to Nash. "Will you look in on them next weekend? I have to go to an exhibit in Minneapolis. I hope to make contacts for when I start the business."
"Sure. No problem. Shannon knows she can count on me."
Shannon poked her husband's chest with her index finger. "You call me a worrier. The kids and I can take care of ourselves."
He caressed her chin. "I know. But I hate leaving. I hope this is the last time."
Nash understood. His profession would never come before his marriage or family again.
****
Beth stood at her parents' white picket fence and watched John's BMW zoom down the road away from their house. Conflicting emotions taunted her. She'd probably never see him again. That was her purpose in coming and she'd thought that was what she wanted.
But when she saw him and remembered the closeness and warmth they'd shared...
A hand on her shoulder startled her. "How did it go?" her mother asked with concern.
Beth looked over the acreage surrounding the house. "Let's walk."
The sun was making a slow descent as they rambled through the grass. "He's aged, Mom. So much. He looks sixty instead of fifty. Somehow, since I thought everything that happened was what he wanted, I assumed he'd had an easy time of it. But I was wrong. He was uprooted too. Even though he was tired of politics and marriage, both were familiar."
Her mother's stride matched hers. "There's comfort in familiarity. That's one reason why unhappily married couples stay married."
"That's basically what he said. Adjusting to not being married was as difficult as being unhappily married. But he's thankful he's out."
Marie stopped. "Was he trying to win your sympathy?"
Beth kicked a loose stone with the toe of her sneaker. "No. He was being factual. Most of our conversation was factual. Until I told him how much his betrayal hurt. I couldn't hold it in, Mom. I was going to be cold, objective. But I ended up crying."
"There's nothing wrong with that, honey. It's about time he knew what you went through."
Beth started walking again. "He knows. And he realizes we can't be friends again. But I told him we're not enemies, either. I understand how trapped he felt. He knows he was a coward and he got his divorce at my expense. He offered me money...'for damages' as he puts it. I told him to forget it. The other money was a loan; I paid it back. I don't want anything from him. I want to get on with my life."
She paused, then added, "I told him I forgive him."
Her mother regarded her reflectively. "Do you? Or did you say it to make him feel less guilty?"
Beth had asked herself the same question and come up with the right answer. "Yes, I do forgive him. And because I do, I feel at peace, and free. The past can't touch me now. When I get home tomorrow, I'm going to tell Nash. If he loves me, he'll believe me and none of it will matter."
"Nash is a reasonable man. It's long past time you and he had this talk."
Her mother sounded as if she knew something Beth didn't.
****
Sunday afternoon, the clock on Nash's desk was moving minute by slow minute and he was getting nothing productive done. He switched off the computer, closed the folder with projection estimates, and filed it in the cabinet. Opening the second drawer, he pulled out Osgood's file. Beth's was behind it.
With a sigh, he laid them both on his desk. The Osgood presentation was only a week away. He had to make sure his speech was in order. He glanced at the boards on the long table. They needed a few finishing touches but he couldn't concentrate.
Beth's file drew his eyes. There was no point opening it. He'd memorized its contents. Besides, what he'd told Shannon was the truth. None of it mattered. As soon as Beth returned, he'd tell her he knew, and they'd move on. Hopefully to a life together. He didn't want to consider the alternative.
He checked the clock again. Three p.m. He needed to do something physical to work off the tension. No jogging so... He crossed to the sliding glass doors that led out back. The grass was lush and long. Yard work was just what he needed. Then a cold shower. Then a long talk and a romantic dinner with the woman he was going to marry.
****
Beth parked in Nash's driveway, wired and tense. She hadn't even stopped at her apartment. Jumping out of the car, thankful the new carburetor was working like a charm, she ran up to Nash's front door. He had given her a key, but she'd forgotten it. She rang the doorbell.
After a few minutes, she opened the door. "Nash? Nash? Are you home?" She hadn't taken the time to look in the garage to see if his car was there.
Recognizing the buzzing sound, she went to the dining room and stepped outside onto the redwood deck. The light wind carried the scent of freshly cut grass and baked earth. Nash was astride a riding mower. His T-shirt was plastered to his upper torso, marked by dark rows and circles of sweat. Sunlight bounced off his hair and glistening thighs.
She loved this man so. Did he want a commitment as much as she did? Were his feelings deeper than passion? If he didn't love her yet, would he in time?
When he rounded a corner to begin another row, he spotted her. Without hesitation, he drove straight toward the deck, cutting a diagonal path across the unmowed half of the yard.
Beth pushed away from the railing and walked down the steps. She waited on the flagstone patio as he motored to the edge, switched off the mower, and hopped off.
Beth's palms became sticky as he flipped off his sunglasses, laying them on the mower's seat, and stood in front of her. He looked so serious that she lost her voice and her heart beat triple time.
"Good trip?"
The sun was hot on her head as the breeze tossed a few strands across her cheek. "Yes."
Nash brushed the hair aside as his hypnotic green eyes combed her face. "The car work okay?"
She wanted to lean into his hand but didn't. Could he read the love in her heart? She wanted to give it to him, to hear him say he returned it. "Fine." The small talk was grating but she didn't know how to switch gears.
His hand dropped and he looked down at his clothes. "I have to get a shower, then we can talk."
She thought of the first shower they took together and felt her skin begin to tingle. "Don't you want to finish the yard?"
He watched her speculatively. "It can wait."
She attempted to pull off a casual shrug. "If you want to finish, I don't mind."
"Beth..."
"Really, it's fine."
His demanding gaze wouldn't let her go. "We have to have a long talk. I have a question to ask you."
Her stomach muscles clenched. Something was wrong. "Ask."
"No. Not yet. I'll be in in about fifteen minutes."
Surprising her, he pulled her into his arms. His kiss was hot, fast, probing...desperate. When he released her, she stood stunned for a moment, the impression of his body still burning her. He jumped astride the mower and took off across the yard as if the devil was after him.
Bemused, she opened the lower level doors and went into Nash's office. She'd only been here a few times. It was masculine and reflected his penchant for organization. The navy leather couch and chairs, the black slate-
topped tables, the icy-blue carpeting, all gave a no-nonsense but comfortable ambience. She didn't know how he kept his desk and drafting area so neat. She knew the smaller adjoining room toward the front of the house was his secretary's office and just as orderly.
To pass the time, she drifted over to a table and smiled. A set of boards was laid out side by side. Green tape coded the corner of each board. Nash had shown her his system. He labeled all material from each of his clients with a different color of tape.
It wasn't until she had looked over the first board and glanced at the bottom that she realized this was Osgood's resort. Her boards were finished and she was satisfied she'd win the contract if her oral presentation went well. So she studied Nash's finished concept.
As she looked at the first one and then the second, her heart beat faster. Nash's concept was very much like hers. It also targeted age groups but with a historical flavor--a section for couples taken from the Middle Ages with castle sculptures and a knight on a charger, a dinosaur land for children, an Olympic theme circuit training path. The only specific difference was a miniature golf course with an Old West theme.
A suspicion formed in her mind before she could stop it as she remembered catching Nash looking at her boards that day at the shore. No. Nash wouldn't have copied her idea. They thought alike in many ways. That was all. She dismissed the similarity. Nash had never been anything but sincere and honest. Right?
Her eyes shifted to the desk and the folders there. Nash's printing was legible, neat, bold. The top folder bore her name.
She moved closer. Why would Nash have a folder concerning her? Unless... Could Rosenthal's suspicions have been right? Did Nash hire private investigators and do background checks? Had he done one on her?
Don't jump to conclusions, Beth. He's so organized anything's possible.
She wiped one clammy hand on her shorts before she reached for the folder. Fear stabbed her chest as she picked it up. She opened it slowly. There were photographs of a few of the bigger projects she'd completed and a computer printout listing landscapes, types of flowers and plants, any unusual features. This information was public knowledge. Anyone could get it. Why had Nash wanted it? To decide if she was a serious threat? And if so, then what?
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