Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

by Penny Jordan

  “What do you want, Adara?”

  She practically liquefied into one of those women she often saw following him with limpid eyes and undisguised yearning. Her heart was so scarred and scared she could barely acknowledge what she wanted, let alone articulate it, but she managed to say huskily, “You.”

  Instantly it felt like too huge an admission, like she was confessing to a deeper need than the sexual ones he had. Unable to bear being so completely defenseless against him, she splayed her hands on his chest and tried to lessen the depth of the admission by saying in a stilted murmur, “I’m not a sexual person, but I want to be in bed with you all the time.”

  Something inscrutable flashed in his expression, quickly masked by excitement as his chest expanded under her touch with a big inhale.

  Adara hid her sensitivity in a sexual advance she couldn’t have made a week ago, but their constant lovemaking over the last few days had given her the confidence to lean forward and tease his nipple with her mouth.

  He grasped a handful of her hair while his erection grew against her stomach, making her smile as she flicked with her tongue and made him groan with approval.

  “I thought you wanted to sleep,” he said through his teeth.

  “We will,” she said, scraping her teeth across to his other nipple. “In a bit.”

  * * *

  Gideon checked inside the velvet clamshell box, giving the ring one more critical look. The cushion-cut pink diamond was framed on either side by half-carat white diamonds, two on each side. Like Adara, the arrangement had a quiet elegance that wasn’t ostentatious or flashy. It was a rare find that held the eye a long time once you noticed it.

  When he’d seen it, he’d thought, Sunrise. A new beginning. Then his sailor’s superstition had kicked in. Red sky in morning...

  No, there was no warning here. They were proceeding into the horizon on smooth waters, making this ring the perfect marker for their anniversary in a few weeks. He had considered waiting until the actual date to give this to her, but they had a gala tonight and it seemed the right time for Adara to show off a trinket from her husband.

  A good time for him to show her off, he admitted to himself with a self-deprecating smirk. A funny pang hit him in the middle of his chest as he tucked the box into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket. Adara was the last person to walk around bragging, Look what my husband gave me. He was the one who’d coaxed her into accepting this invitation so he’d have an excuse to give her this ring and seal a deal they hadn’t quite closed.

  Moving into the empty living room to wait for her, he poured himself a drink and gazed at the lights bobbing across the harbor, disturbed by how insecure he still felt about their future.

  If sex was an indicator, he had nothing to worry about. Horny as he may have been as a teenager, he hadn’t had access to a female body often enough to be this sexually active. Since Greece, however, he and Adara had been living the sort of second honeymoon every man fantasized about. There shouldn’t be an ounce of need left in him, but as he dwelled on waking this morning to Adara’s curves melded into his side, and the welcoming moan she’d released when he’d slipped inside her, a flame of sexual hunger came alive in him again.

  And it was so good. Not just the quantity, but the quality. Her old inhibitions were gone. She was outspoken enough that he could unleash himself with the knowledge that she’d slow him down if she didn’t like it. The sex was a dream come true.

  So he didn’t understand this agitation in himself, especially when she’d become more open in other ways, making him feel even more special and privileged to wear the label “Adara’s husband.”

  Like yesterday, when he’d swung by her office on impulse at lunch, catching her in a meeting. Through the glass wall he’d watched her hold court, standing at the head of a board table surrounded by men and women in suits, all glued to her words. He’d understood their fascination, hypnotized himself by the glow of—hell, it looked like happiness, damn it.

  Adara had paused in sketching diagrams on a smart board to point the tip of her electronic pen at each person as she went round the table, soliciting comments, earning nods and building consensus.

  Gideon had stood there transfixed, proud, awed, full of admiration while remaining male enough to enjoy the way her shirt buttons strained across her breasts, just a shade tighter than she used to wear them.

  Maybe that wasn’t entirely voluntary. She’d said something the other day about eating too much and being too sedentary while they were away. He’d dismissed the comment because who gained ten pounds in less than a week? And even if she had, he was quite happy with her curves, thanks. Studying that ready-to-pop button, he’d been torn between intense desire and the sheer pleasure of watching her work.

  She’d turned her head and a flush of pleasure had lit up her expression. She’d bit back a smile, mouthing something about “my husband” to the crowd that turned their heads to the window.

  He’d been busted and had to meet a pile of names he’d never remember. It had been worth it. Ten minutes later they had locked lips in the descending elevator and wound up doing a “snap inspection” on the family suite at one of her hotels, skipping lunch altogether.

  It was all good. She’d even let him listen in to her calls to her younger brothers when she’d broken the news about looking up Nic. A few beseeching, helpless looks at Gideon while she walked through some difficult memories had kept him close, rubbing her back as she choked through the conversations, but afterward there’d been a level of peace in her that told him she was healing old wounds that had festered for years.

  Tell her your secret, a voice whispered insidiously in his head.

  He slipped his hand into his pocket to close his fist on the velvet box. No. It wasn’t necessary. They were doing great. Her brother was on the other side of the world, not questioning where Adara’s husband had come from. Gideon had dodged any curiosity from that quarter and there was no use rocking the boat.

  Even though guilt ate him alive at the way Adara couldn’t seem to get enough of watching her niece over the webcam. But what could he say? Yes, let’s allow strangers to dig into my past so we can adopt a baby?

  She hadn’t brought it up again, but she didn’t need to. It was obvious what she wanted and he couldn’t do it.

  Assaulted by a fresh bout of shame and remorse, he ducked it by glancing at his watch. It wasn’t like Adara to keep him waiting.

  Moving to her room where the bulk of her clothes and toiletries remained while their architect prepared renovation plans for a new master bedroom, Gideon was aware of a fleeting apprehension. He rarely checked in on her while she was getting ready. There was something about watching a woman put on makeup and dress to go out that triggered old feelings of being abandoned and helpless. He shook off the dark mood that seemed so determined to overtake him tonight, and knocked before letting himself into her room.

  She was a vision of sexy dishevelment in a blue gown not yet zipped up her back. Her hair had ruffled from its valentine frame around her face, curling in soft scrolls around her bare shoulders while her flawless makeup gave her lips a sensual glow and added dramatic impact to the distempered expression in her eyes.

  “Problem?” he asked, noting the splashes of color where gowns had been discarded over the chair, the bed, and even the floor. Perhaps they should rethink the room sharing. This kind of disorder could wear on him.

  “I told you we were eating out too much. I look like a lumpy sausage in every one of these. This one won’t even close and my makeup doesn’t match...” She was whipping herself into quite a state.

  He bit back a smile, aware that he’d be on the end of a swift set down if he revealed how cute and refreshing he thought this tantrum was.

  “Maybe the zipper is just caught. Let me try.”

  “It’s not caught. I’m getti
ng fat.” She stood still as he tried to draw the back panels of the silk together and work the zipper upward. Oh, hell. This wasn’t just a snagged zip, and now he’d done it: put himself in the position of having to acknowledge to his wife that she had gained a pound or two. Might as well go up to the roof and jump right now.

  “See?” she wailed when he kept trying to drag the zip upward.

  “Honestly, I don’t see any weight gain,” he insisted while privately acknowledging that spending as much time as he did caressing this body, a small and gradual gain would go completely unnoticed. “You’re probably just getting your period. Don’t women feel puffy then? You must be due for one.”

  Even as he said it, he was caught by the realization that she hadn’t had one since, well, it would have been before they’d become intimate in Greece. At least a month ago.

  He bristled with an unwelcome thought that he dismissed before it fully formed.

  While Adara stood very, very still, her color draining away in increments.

  Instinctively, Gideon took hold of her arm, aware of the way she tensed under his touch, as if she wanted to reject it.

  “I, um, never get back to normal right away after a miscarriage,” she summed up briskly, not looking at him while her brow furrowed. Her arm jerked to remove his touch as she shrugged into a self-hug. “You’re probably right. It’s just a particularly bad case of PMS bloating.”

  Except she’d also mentioned a few days ago that her breasts were sore because her bra was too tight.

  Or tender because of something else?

  He could see where her mind was going and it scared him because he really would lose her if she fell pregnant again.

  “I use a condom every time, Adara. Every time.” He’d been meaning to book a vasectomy, as permanent protection, but hadn’t been ready to take the necessary break from sex.

  “I know,” she said so quickly it was almost as though she was trying to shut down the conversation before the word could be said, but it was there, eating the color out of her so she was a bloodless ghost refusing to look at him.

  “So I don’t see how—”

  “I’m sure it’s impossible,” she cut in crisply. “And I’d only be a couple of weeks, not starting to put on weight, but I won’t be able to think straight until I’m sure.” Peeling the delicate straps of her gown off her shoulders, she let it fall to the floor and stepped out of the circle of midnight blue. Her strapless green bra didn’t match the yellow satin and lace across her buttocks, but it was a pretty sight anyway as she walked into the bathroom. “I think there’s a leftover test in the cupboard...”

  She closed him out, the quiet click of the door a punch in the heart. He rubbed his clammy hands on his thighs, insisting to himself it was impossible.

  Even though Adara thought it was possible.

  And she wasn’t happy about it.

  How could she be?

  Bracing his hands on the edges of the bathroom door, he listened for the flush and heard the sink run. Then, silence.

  He ground his teeth, waiting.

  Oh, to hell with it. He pushed in.

  She’d pulled on an ivory robe and stood at the sink, a plastic stick in her hand. It quivered in her shaking grip.

  He moved to look over her shoulder and saw the blue plus sign as clearly as she did. Positive.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE VOLUME OF emotions that detonated in Adara was more than she could cope with. Dark and huge as a mushroom cloud, the feelings scared her into falling back on old habits of trying to compress them back into the shallow grave of her heart.

  “The test is old, maybe. Faulty,” Gideon said behind her.

  “It was the second one in the box from when I tested myself a few months ago.” She threw the stick away and washed her hands, scrubbing them hard, then drying them roughly before she escaped the bathroom that was luxuriously cavernous, but way too small when her husband was in it with her.

  And she was pregnant.

  Again.

  Shock was giving way to those unidentified emotions putting pressure on her eyes and rib cage and heart. She didn’t want him watching as they took her over and she had to face that it was happening again.

  “You should go,” she said briskly, keeping her back to him. “Make my apologies. Tell people I came down with the flu or something.” She was distantly aware of the cold, slippery satin on her arms bunching under her fists, her whole being focused on listening for Gideon’s footsteps to leave the room the way she was silently pleading for him to do.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not in the mood to go out right now,” she said sharply, grasping desperately for an even tone to hide how close she was to completely breaking down.

  “Adara, I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!” she whipped around to cry. Distantly she was aware of her control skidding out of reach, but the storm billowing to life inside her was beyond her ability to quell. “Maybe this is all the time we have with our children, but I won’t be sorry they exist!”

  Her closed fist came up against her trembling lips, trying to stem the flood that wanted to escape after her outburst.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with quiet ferocity, moving toward her with what seemed like a wave of equally intense emotions swirling around him.

  Their two force fields crackled with condensed energy as they met, heightening the strain between them. Adara looked into his face, really looked, and saw such a ravaged expression, such brutally contained anguish, her insides cracked and crumbled.

  “Whatever happens, I’m staying right here.” He pointed at the floor between their feet. “I won’t leave you alone again. This is happening to us.”

  Emotion choked her then, overspilling the dam of denial to flood her with anguish and insecure hatred of this body that didn’t know how to hang on to babies. Futile hope combined with learned despair to make her shake all over. She couldn’t hold it back, had to say it.

  “I’m scared, Gideon.”

  He closed his eyes in a flinch of excruciation. “I know,” he choked out, and dragged her into his protective arms, locking her into the safety of a hard embrace. “I know, babe, I know.”

  It all came out in a swamping rush of jagged tears. She clung hard to him as the devastating sorrow she’d never shown him was finally allowed to pour out of her. Every hurt that had ever scarred her seemed to rise and open and bleed free, gushing until it ran out the toxins, gradually closing in a seal that might actually heal this time.

  As her senses came back to her, she realized he’d carried her to the bed where he’d sat down on the edge to cradle her in his lap. He gently rocked her, making comforting noises, stroking her soothingly.

  “Sorry,” she sniffed, wiping her sleeve across her soaked cheeks. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

  “Shh.” He eased the edges of his jacket around her, cuddling her into a pocket of warmth close to his chest. When she looked up at him, she saw his eyes were red and glassy, his mouth twisted in frustrated pain.

  “I wish—”

  “I know. Me too.” He steadied his lips in a flat line, the impact of his one sharp glance telling her he knew deeply and perfectly and exactly what she wished for.

  When his hand moved into the folds of her robe and settled low on her abdomen, she covered it with her own, willing their baby to know that Daddy was here too. Her heart stretched and ached.

  Gideon swallowed loudly and drew in a heavy breath, things she felt viscerally with him as she rested her head against his heart. This is love, she thought. The knowing without words. The sharing of both joy and pain.

  She sat in stillness a long time, wondering if it was true. Were they both here in this bubble of dawning heart-to-hear
t connection, or just her? Did he love her? A little?

  Gideon swore softly and touched the pocket of his jacket. “Paul,” he explained. “I should tell him we’re not going. Is your phone in here?”

  “On the dock in the living room.”

  “Here. You need to warm up.” He dragged the covers back from the pillows before rising with her in his arms and neatly tucking her in.

  Listless after her storm of weeping, Adara turned her back on his departure and let her eyes close and her mind go blank. She couldn’t face that he’d walked out so dispassionately after holding her so tenderly.

  She must have dozed because she woke still alone in the bed, but the bedside light was on and someone was rustling in her room. She opened her eyes to see Gideon fitting a hanger into one of her gowns and carrying it into the closet. A tiny smile dawned on her mouth as she surreptitiously watched him housekeep for her. He’d changed out of his tuxedo, which was always a pity because he made one look so good, but pajama pants were fine too. Even when they were obviously crisp and new from a package. Had he ever worn pajamas before tonight? she wondered.

  His critical eye scanned the room for anything else out of place before he moved to the door.

  Her heart fell. He wasn’t going to join her. They were back to separate beds and separate lives.

  But no. She heard the distant beep of him setting the alarm, then his footsteps padded back to her. He gently lifted the covers and eased into bed behind her.

  She sighed and spooned herself into him.

  “Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t be able to sleep anyway. I’ve already started thinking about doctor’s appointments and taking vitamins and...” She sighed with heartfelt sadness. It seemed like such a futile effort to go through it all again. “...everything.”

  “I put in a call to Karen, letting her know we want an appointment tomorrow,” he said, referring to her ob-gyn.

  “Oh, um, thank you.” His thoughtfulness startled her. She wouldn’t have guessed that he even knew her doctor’s name. Snugging herself a little more securely into him, she nuzzled the bent elbow beneath her cheek. “One less thing to worry about.” Oddly, she found herself amused again. “Especially because you might actually get me an appointment tomorrow. I’d take whatever they offered, something next week if that’s all they had, but no one says no to you, do they?”