Of course, she could just as easily have stood on the opposite end of the couch and shaken his leg, a position that would have put her out of his reach. But this was his fantasy and he’d imagine it his way, damn it.
He hadn’t meant to embarrass her with his talk of roller coaster rides being like sex, but to him they were. Zipping along at fast speeds, hitting peaks and valleys, and being completely satisfied when it ended. Absolutely thrilling. He might have ridden a half dozen roller coasters this afternoon, but he hadn’t made love in a very long time.
And his prospects looked no brighter, even though Genevieve L’Esperance was now Genevieve Gray. His wife in the eyes of the law, but on paper only.
“Give me ten minutes to shower,” he told her.
He’d better make it a cold one.
Chapter 14
It didn’t surprise him to see her bedroom door closed when he emerged from the shower, wearing his khaki slacks but no shirt. He left the door to the bathroom open so the steam that fogged up the mirrors would evaporate faster. He couldn’t even see to pick out his hair.
He was rummaging through his suitcase for a clean shirt when Genevieve emerged. “Time’s up—” She broke off abruptly, inadvertently drawing in her breath at the sight of him shirtless. She swallowed hard. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still dressing.”
“It’s all right. I’m just getting a shirt now. It’s not like you caught me with my pants down. I’m decent.”
She managed a weak smile. Yes, you are. Dexter might be thin, but his physique had been unaffected by his weight loss. He had beautifully developed biceps and pectoral muscles, the upper part of his chest covered with a light dusting of dark hair that tapered into a thin line that headed downward, toward...
Have mercy.
Realizing she had to say something, she hastily told him to take his time. Then she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, glad to have something to focus on other than Dexter’s bare chest.
Genevieve giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this, Dexter. Things like this just aren’t done in fine restaurants.”
“Relax, Jenny. It’s not like we’ll ever be back. And if we’d thought of it sooner we could have asked them to split the entrees in the kitchen before bringing our plates out.” He succeeded in cutting Genevieve’s duck L’orange in half, but it fell from between his fork and knife when he tried to transfer one of the halves from her plate to his. “Slippery little devil. I’d forgotten how greasy duck can be.”
Fortunately, he had better luck with the steak, transferring it on the first try, only losing a drop of Béarnaise sauce.
Their waiter appeared, perhaps out of curiosity. “Is everything all right, Monsieur, Madame?”
Genevieve stiffened, remembering how the maitre d’ greeted them as Monsieur and Madame Gray when they entered the elegantly furnished restaurant inside a Georgetown townhouse. That told her Dexter had called ahead. She knew he was trying to establish their relationship for the benefit of the INS, but she was having difficulty being addressed that way. She wished they could merely be two anonymous patrons.
“Fine,” Dexter said to the waiter. “We, uh, decided our respective entrees were so good that we wanted to share.”
“We could have split the entrees for you in the kitchen, Monsieur.”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” Dexter explained. “Chef André fixes an awfully appetizing plate.”
Genevieve smiled at Dexter’s efforts to smooth things over. She couldn’t help thinking that Barry would never try to split a roast duck at a restaurant. He wasn’t nearly as fun as Dexter.
Nor as sexy...
Genevieve told herself not to go there. Instead she concentrated on her food. She couldn’t decide which entree was the best, the orange-flavored duck, or the masterfully prepared filet mignon topped with asparagus spears. The duck was good, but it was the filet that made her close her eyes and make a moan of contentment.
Dexter’s soft voice reminded her of where she was. “Jenny, if you keep doing that, I swear I’m going to pick you up, carry you back to the hotel and have my way with you.”
Her eyes flew open. This time she decided to ignore his innuendo, rather than chide him for it...at least on the outside. The picture of what he described was too tantalizing to slip away without lingering over it.
“I’ve always had an appreciation for good food,” she said matter-of-factly, “and this filet mignon is perfect. I’m just...a little vocal about it.” She flashed him a playful smile. “And what about you? I’m surprised you didn’t start off with the chocolate mousse.”
“The desk clerk recommended this place to me.”
“Well, I think it was very sweet of you to bring me here.”
“I wanted to come somewhere special, and last night was hard to top.” After Genevieve confirmed Virginia’s marriage requirements by phone, they decided to drive down first thing in the morning. They tried to put a good face on it, but they both felt a little blue at the unexpected hitch in their plan. To perk them up, they went out for a wonderful meal at a waterfront seafood restaurant in Annapolis. The food had been scrumptious, although Dexter had been disappointed to learn that the Lord Baltimore cake he wanted to try had no real connection to the area beyond its name and was not on the menu.
“That it was,” she agreed, smiling, “but I think you managed to do it.”
They enjoyed the rest of their dinner, and when Genevieve finished she patted her mouth delicately with her napkin. “That was a memorable meal.”
“Yes, it was.” He gestured for the waiter, who appeared promptly, menu in hand. “Are you going to order dessert, Jenny?”
“I’ll pass.”
“All right. Let’s see...” He held the small menu in front of his face and raised his right hand to point to something. As he lowered it, Genevieve saw him nod.
“I was sure you’d want to order dessert, Jenny. You seem to be eating better than you were last week,” he observed.”
She sighed. “I was too nervous to eat, Dexter. I was literally making myself sick, afraid that someone from Immigration was going to tap me on the shoulder or knock on the door at any moment.”
“You’re safe now.”
“I know.” She brightened. “And you’ll get to graduate in December. We made a good deal, wouldn’t you say?”
“I think it’ll work out just fine. But while I’ll be done in credits in December, I won’t be graduating then.”
“Why not?”
“NYU only holds graduation ceremonies in May. That’s fine. I’ll be there, and God willing, so will my grandparents. In the meantime, I’ll be able to begin work, maybe even pass the bar. You’ve made it all possible, Jenny.”
They smiled at each other, and at that moment a white-aproned chef appeared with a chafing dish. “Good evening, Monsieur and Madame Gray,” he said in a slight French accent. “My name is Jacques. Please allow me to prepare your dessert for you.”
Genevieve looked at Dexter questioningly. “I think there may have been a mistake, Jacques. We didn’t—”
“No mistake, Madame. Monsieur Gray ordered our specialty in advance to honor the occasion of your marriage earlier today.”
She looked at Dexter blankly. “He did...?”
He leaned forward. “Surprise!”
Genevieve leaned back. “This is...wonderful! And completely unexpected.”
“I wanted it to be special. It’s the first night of our honeymoon, remember?”
Just then Jacques lit a match and the sauce flamed, giving Genevieve a live demonstration of what a wedding night should be like...
She experienced a wonderful feeling of contentment during the return drive to the hotel. The dessert was the perfect end to a perfect meal, and light enough for her to make room for it. It had been a night of surprises, right up to the moment Dexter paid the bill. “Remember,” he’d said, “I do have quite a bit of money saved toward my tuition, e
ven though it’s still way short of seventeen grand. And in case you’re wondering why I haven’t just asked you just for the difference between what I’ve saved and the total amount...”
Genevieve had thought about that, but she decided he had his own reasons. Besides, she’d offered to pay his entire tuition, not just the amount of his shortage.
“...I did think about it. But in the end I decided it would be best if I made a large payment toward my grandparents’ mortgage, plus take over the monthly payments,” Dexter explained. “They’re on a fixed income and really can’t afford that extra output every month, years after they burned the original note. I’d like to take some of the financial stress off them.”
“I think that’s very thoughtful of you,” she’d told him. Then she paused. “Dexter, do you mind if I ask what happened to your parents?”
“They were killed when I was thirteen. Car crash on the parkway.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll always miss them. But my grandparents didn’t hesitate to take on my sister and me. We both consider ourselves blessed to still have them with us.” He guided the car into a parking space.
At the door to their suite she stood aside and allowed Dexter to insert the plastic card to unlock it, then walked inside, as she did raising her arms in a stretch that affected her entire body.
“Are you tired, Jenny?”
“No,” she said quickly. “It’s been a long day, but I slept pretty good after Six Flags. If anything, I’m full.” Suddenly she felt shy. “I can’t tell you enough what a wonderful evening tonight was. I know you went through a lot of trouble arranging everything.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I’m not tired, either. Why don’t we order a movie?”
“I’d love to.” She kicked off her mules and sat sideways on the sofa, stretching her legs along the width of the cushions. Dexter sat in one of the two side chairs and rested his feet on the coffee table.
When the movie ended, Genevieve made no attempt to cover her yawn. It was after midnight, and she was bushed. “I guess I’ll go to bed now. I’m beat.”
“Seems a little anticlimactic after what happened this morning, doesn’t it?”
Her spine grew rigid. “Dexter, the only reason we got married is because each of us has something the other needs. It’s real on paper only.” She was beginning to feel like the proverbial broken record and fervently hoped she wouldn’t have to tell him that again. She didn’t understand why Dexter seemed to think that now that they were married all her problems were over. They still had to convince the INS that their sham marriage was real, which wouldn’t be easy. And, something Dexter knew nothing about—she still had to tell Barry what she’d done.
Genevieve wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Feeling about her the way he did, Barry was bound to be hurt and disappointed. In time she knew he’d realize marriage between them would have been a terrible mistake, but instinct told her he wouldn’t see that silver lining right away.
Dexter’s intense gaze made her feel as if she’d stepped out of the proverbial frying pan directly into the fire. It would take every ounce of will power she could muster to keep their marriage platonic.
He pressed on. “Still, this is our wedding night, Jenny. Doesn’t it seem ironic for you and I to sleep in separate rooms? In separate beds?”
“I made it clear from the very beginning that there’d be no emotional attachment between us. This marriage is a business arrangement only.” She had wanted to sound authoritative and confident, but she couldn’t help remembering how her pulse raced and her chest heaved when he’d kissed her at the courthouse after the ceremony, and instead she sounded uncertain, perhaps even a little weak-willed.
Dexter must have noticed it, too, because he pounced right away. He swiftly moved from the side chair he’d been sitting in to join her on the sofa, not on the opposite end, but next to her. Genevieve swiftly moved her legs out of the way to make room for him, but before she could completely fold them under her he grabbed them and placed them across his lap. Slowly he ran his hand up the length of her leg, staying on the outside of her dress, coming to a stop at her hip.
“Dexter,” she warned, desperately trying to sound stern, in spite of the thrill she felt.
“Admit it, Jenny. You don’t want to spend your wedding night sleeping alone. If we’re going to be married, why not really be married?” He looked at her beseechingly. “Three years is a long time. And you are one beautiful woman, especially today.”
She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. Still, making love to him would only make their already tenuous situation too difficult to cope with. Affairs blew over too quickly. They might be sick of each other by the time the Immigration Service came around to talk to them, perhaps unable to hide the tension between them. She couldn’t risk it. If Dexter was thinking with the right head he’d see it, too. It would be simple, gratuitous sex, and she’d regret it in the morning. That would be all right if she weren’t attached to Dexter, at least on paper, for the next three years. She wanted to hold out for the real thing, the feelings of love that would make her life complete. And she couldn’t pursue that until her marital entanglement was over, three long years from now.
It seemed like an eternity. And now, with Dexter looking at her with hooded eyes, she wasn’t sure she could continue to hold out. When his face moved closer to hers, she felt powerless to move...
Her eyes closed and her lips parted as he kissed her, and in an instant his tongue slipped inside her mouth, performing an erotic mating dance. In spite of herself, Genevieve gave in to the sheer pleasure of his lips, so firm and insistent, against hers, the feel of his hands removing the pins from her hair and threading his fingers through the thick strands. Her arms went around his neck as she reclined and he shifted position, his lean body surprisingly heavy atop hers.
She made no move to stop him when she felt him tugging at the tie to her halter as they kissed. The fabric was pushed aside, and he raised up a bit so his large hands could cup her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as he kneaded her already stiffened nipples.
He tore his lips from hers and nuzzled her neck, which she arched while making whimpering sounds deep in her throat. Heaven help her for being so weak-willed, but this man affected her the way no other had. Right now she was exactly where she wanted to be.
Dexter raised himself slightly so he could view her uncovered upper body, the look of wonder in his eyes telling her he approved of what he saw. He moved down, and his tongue gently circled the areola of her right breast, while gently squeezing her left with his other hand. She gasped when he flicked over her erect nipple.
Dexter moved his attention to the other breast, then resumed kissing her lips again. He made love to her mouth with his tongue, teasing, outlining, caressing, while he whispered words she couldn’t quite make out. Her moans became louder, her grip on his flesh tighter, and when the tip of his tongue found the sensitive spot on the roof of her mouth, she ignored the warning bells that rang so loudly inside her head.
As the seconds ticked by, Genevieve realized that those warning bells weren’t only in her head. The sound of the distant siren grew louder and louder until it sounded like it was just outside, and even with her eyes closed, she picked up on flashing red lights.
They broke the kiss, and still embracing, opened their eyes to see light coming through the center portion of the venetian blinds, where the lined curtains hadn’t been pulled all the way shut.
Dexter reluctantly broke away from her. “Damn!” he exclaimed. The spell had been broken by some sort of emergency unfolding outside, and they both knew it.
“You’d better see what’s going on. “It might be a fire or something.”
“Yeah, there’s a fire, all right,” he muttered as he stood and shuffled over to the room’s entrance and disappeared into the hall, not even bothering to put anything on his bare feet or tuck in the tails of his shirt that hung down over his hips.
&nbs
p; Genevieve sat up. The top of her dress, which had been resting beneath her breastbone as she reclined, promptly fell to her waist, serving as a painful reminder about what she had been about to do, and she quickly took the two pieces and tied them together behind her neck.
She smoothed her dress over her lap, then went to peer out of the window. Their room on the ground floor allowed her a clear view of the activity. Several guests stood outside the entrance, watching as EMT personnel carried out a man on a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. A barefoot Dexter said a few words to a distraught woman Genevieve presumed was the man’s wife, and she replied before climbing into the ambulance.
The attendants pulled the doors shut and the ambulance pulled off, its siren flashing. Dexter and the others walked back into the lobby, and Genevieve stood in the hall to wait for him to appear around the corner. He was easy to spot among the crowd gathered in front of the elevators as he turned the corner of the lobby, his height and hair making him rise head and shoulders above most of the rest. The way his shirt hung open allowed for more than a cursory look at his well-developed pectoral muscles and taut abs as he walked toward her. Her breath caught in her throat.
“It’s all right, I think,” he said when he was close enough for her to hear. He gestured for her to go inside, and she did. Dexter followed, closing the door behind him. “The man in the room down the hall had a heart attack. His wife called the paramedics. He didn’t look too bad, but with cardiac issues you never know.”
“What a terrible thing to happen on vacation!” Genevieve exclaimed.
“I feel kind of badly for them. They’re here from North Carolina, with plans to go to a wedding tomorrow.”
“I guess they’ll miss it now,” she remarked sadly.
“Yeah. The wife rode in the ambulance with him. I told her she could call us when she’s ready to come back to the hotel so she could get to her own car, but she said she’d take a cab. She thanked us, though.”
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