Denying him was denying herself the pleasure of their relationship, too. She couldn’t. She brushed her mouth on his. “Tonight is ours.”
He wound his fingers in hers, his eyes dark with intent. “And tomorrow?”
She sobered, focusing on their entwined hands. “I’m out of here early. My plane to Venice is at four. I’ve got to go home, get my bags, and—”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Aren’t you taking Catrina and Terry to Dulles?”
“I understand that the Chairman will drive them.”
“Terry’s and Abby’s grandfather?”
“He told me last night after dinner that he wanted the time with Terry and his fiancé.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea. I saw them having problems last night. Maybe Terry’s grandfather can steady his nerves.”
Britt frowned. “I hope so. Terry was in a tear. His PTSD can be a bitch.”
She recalled the look of rage on Terry’s face and Catrina’s dismay. “To say nothing of his disability. I’d be a bear if I had his challenges. My husband had problems coping with his illness, and he was not in wheelchair until the last few weeks.”
Britt cradled her close. “Someday you’ll tell me details, I hope.”
She stared at him. “I’d prefer not to.”
She noted the look of hurt in his eyes.
“Okay. When—if you’re ready.”
She shook her head. “I won’t be. That part of my life is over. I try not to think about it.”
“Okay,” he said with a considered examination of her eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do.”
“And so,” he said as he brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss there, “you’ll let me take you home tomorrow?”
Flutters of anxiety danced through her bloodstream. “But you’re going to the mountains.”
He threw her a rueful look. “My cabin goes nowhere.”
She tipped her head and gave him an apologetic smile.
His eyes dimmed as he waited. And waited.
She could find no more words. Only panic in the pit of her stomach.
He rolled away.
Her heart sank.
She pushed up off the floor and followed him into the bedroom.
He was opening his own dresser, pulling on briefs and a T-shirt. He frowned, cursed, and strode to the closet to pick up his running shoes. He was angry.
And she was a jerk.
What was wrong with her? She had met a wonderful man, and she wasn’t capable of riding the highs and lows of a relationship? Had she been single, a widow, sad and lonely too long? “Where’s your room key, Viv?”
Glancing around, she saw her purse on the side table. She strode over, fished out the plastic, and held it tightly in her hand as he approached.
“You don’t have to do this, Britt. I can leave.”
“No, you can’t. You want to be discreet about us, and I can help. I won’t have you feeling any worse about our relationship than you already do.”
“I don’t feel badly.”
“No? What do you call this—” He waved a hand. “—this big chill?”
“Caution.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Any idea when you might know?”
“I can work on it.”
He scowled. “Starting now?”
She nodded once.
“Well,” he said with sarcasm and spun for the door, “that’s a consolation.”
His words cut like a hundred knives.
As he walked out, she accused herself of being the worst idiot she’d ever known.
What the hell is your problem, Viv?
****
Britt felt sick. Gutted. What the hell had gone wrong? He didn’t say the right things? Do the right things? How had he not made love to her the best way? Slow, hard, fast? Hell. On the floor, in the bed, even against the wall! What was he going to do to prove to Viv she needed to stay longer with him? Cancel that damn trip to Venice and come make love to him in his cabin in the woods whenever she wanted?
By the time he stood in front of his hotel room door again, her workout clothes in his one arm, he knew he had to say more, do more, come right out and blurt that he wanted more than tonight and tomorrow and next week. He wanted as many days and nights as he could promise her.
But how many were they?
To be honest, not many.
Not any.
Just today was what he had.
All he had.
He narrowed his gaze on the door and wondered if that might be the whole problem. And he had no way to change that. He was a man whose life expectancy was diminished each time he went out. No way he was changing that or able to predict the future. He had accepted that, trained against it.
And she was a woman who had lost a man she loved. So she was grieving?
Okay, that he understood.
But how long did he have to wait? And could he? He had today. Always. Only today. Ultimately, if she decided to try for a lasting relationship with him, she’d have to understand that. Live with it.
Could he help her come to terms with that?
He had to try.
He thrust his card key in the damn slot and charged forward.
“Viv?” He called from the living room. “Got your things.”
Getting no response, he walked through to the bedroom. The rumpled bed where they had rolled around like two love-starved teenagers was empty.
“Viv?”
She couldn’t have left him. Would she?
“I’m here,” he heard her say, and he spun to see her emerge from the bathroom, naked as a nymph and dripping from the shower. She clutched a bath towel and dried off a bit, then dropped it to the floor to walk toward him.
“I missed you,” she confessed as she took her clothes from him and dropped them on a chair, then looped her arms around his neck. “And I owe you an apology.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t help himself from bringing her right up against him. Hope was all he had at the moment, and he wasn’t a fool to throw it away. “What?”
“I want more than room service and the gym.”
His heart did a silly flip-flop. “Tell me.”
“I want to dance with you at the reception.”
“Ah, well.” Accepting what little he could get from her at the moment, he hoped for more later and pressed his hungry body against her luscious curves. “I’ll beat any man off with a stick who puts his arms around the Matron of Honor.”
She caught her breath, her beautiful green eyes so hopeful. “I’ll murder any woman who puts her hands on the Best Man.”
He couldn’t help himself from saying, “He’s yours, Viv.”
“I know,” she whispered and pressed her full lips to his.
“I’m wondering if I could interest you in something more than dancing at the reception.”
“You can. I know what I want.” Her eyes twinkling, she led him toward the bed.
He didn’t budge an inch but pulled her back into his embrace. “Talk to me.”
Shaking her head, she hooked her hands in his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, then scored her nails down his ribs. “Not now.”
Her desperate moves scored his conscience. “Sooner or later, we’ll have to.”
“Let it be later. I need you now.”
He flicked his shoes and shorts off and grabbed her up so that she wrapped her long legs around his hips. She was the sweetest, hottest lady he’d ever known, and he wasn’t about to refuse another chance to excite her and himself.
“Later,” she said as she kissed him. “Please.”
“Later,” he said, though it was wrong to agree. She could drive him wild with lust, but in the end, she’d have to let him love all of her, body, heart, and soul—or they’d both be lost.
Rejecting the idea of the bed, he wanted her hard, fast, primal. So he walked them both into the shower and hit the water control to put them in
a warm solid stream of refreshment. Face-to-face, he had to make her look at him as he drove her up and took her over the edge of desire with him.
But as he stroked her heavy breasts, she sighed and closed her eyes.
“Look at me,” he said as he spread her thighs and slid up high inside her scalding heat.
She complied and gasped, molten with desire, her green eyes wide with pleasure. But in a second, she was snared by her own passion, and her eyes shut. The magnetic power of their connection was gone.
Chapter Ten
And through the wedding ceremony and dinner, it didn’t return.
Britt watched Viv as she walked into the room where they’d held the ceremony. She was stunning in the pale gold gown, her red hair a cascade of brilliant red waves. She stood beside a radiant Abby whose face was wreathed in adoration of his pal, Nick Reardon. Britt knew that look. He’d seen it on Viv’s face. He’d called it rapture. Now he hoped to god it was more.
Standing next to Nick, both of them in their dress whites for the occasion, Britt clamped down his nerves. The procession of bridesmaids began, and Britt concentrated on his job as Best Man, handing over rings, smiling at a nervous Nick, smiling at his five teammates in turn, two of whom were ushers. One of them, Santiago, hulk that he was, practically drooling over Tracy, the blonde friend of Abby’s whom he’d been stuck to like glue since last night. No wonder there’d been another pairing of Nick’s and Abby’s friends since every woman was damn gorgeous and the men were no fools when it came to finding the best females in any room. Britt wondered if Santiago hoped for more than a wedding hook-up.
Britt wanted that for himself. He focused on Viv, the gold sheath she wore clinging to her body like a second skin. Skin he’d touched and kissed and caressed. Arms he’d wanted wrapped around him. Lips he’d devoured. Eyes like big beautiful emeralds. Eyes that locked on him…and darted away.
He stiffened his spine. She might want him, and want him badly, but she couldn’t make a commitment yet. Time was what she needed and time was what he had so little of.
As Abby and Nick finished their vows and they turned for the applause of the guests, Britt caught Viv’s attention, but she turned away. Arranging Abby’s long train, she was not smiling as she handed Abby her bouquet. Then Viv faced him. He took two steps toward her and offered his arm to walk down the aisle. When she took it, her face was placid, her body wooden.
In his bones, Britt felt how right this was to be with Viv. Time. Days. Years. Did they matter as much as the comfortable feeling of finding someone who fit your temperament?
Nick and Abby had discovered how they cared for each other over a long weekend. Just one look at them and anyone could see the power of lightning striking a man and woman and forging them into one whole.
But during dinner, as he caught glimpses of Viv, she didn’t look in his direction. Didn’t want to? Or didn’t dare?
When it came time for him to offer the toast to the bride and groom, he stood and lifted his champagne glass. “To Nick, who has shown me and many of us in this room, how to lead. In the face of danger and boredom, during chilling nights in nameless deserts and godforsaken jungles, Lieutenant Nick Reardon was a steady beacon of light. To Abby, who dazzled the Lieutenant with her devotion to her brother, her family, and to her friends and showed a man what love can do to put delight in every hour, near or apart. Join me in saluting a terrific couple who have found the delight in each other and in every day hereafter for the rest of their lives.”
“Hear, hear!” Cheers rang out to celebrate the new couple.
Britt put up a hand in thanks and took his chair. Could anyone ever have the opportunity to say anything similar about him and the woman he loved?
As Abby and Nick rose to begin their first dance, he admired how affectionate they were with each other. Nick cupping Abby’s shoulder to whisper in her ear and wink at her as she chuckled. Abby reaching up to cup his cheek and plant a kiss there. Happy for his buddy, Britt was stabbed by envy.
He sat bolt upright in his seat.
Was he the only one in love?
****
Viv dragged her eyes from the sight of Britt. He was too luscious in his dress whites. Too charming with his toast to the newlyweds. Too miserable. And she was to blame.
In another minute, he’d come for her. Ask her to dance. Want to talk. And this time, there’d be no escape.
She’d have to open up. And all the sorrows she wanted to tell him about seemed so ridiculous to even consider revealing on such a happy day. At such a wonderful occasion as the marriage of two people who were obviously meant for each other. Despite the chances of their meeting. Despite the odds of anyone having enduring happiness.
She shot from her chair.
She had to leave. Go home. Get ready for her flight tomorrow.
Abby suddenly appeared before her. She’d removed her long veil and tiara, and she held her floor length ball gown up from the floor with two clenched hands. Her face was stiff, her eyes wide, her lips thin. “Help me, Viv.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Catrina.”
Viv looked toward the table where Abby’s brother, Terry, and his fiancée had been seated during dinner.
“Where is she?”
Abby took hold of Viv’s hand. Fright stood in her dark gold eyes. “She’s fled upstairs. She and Terry had a fight. Come with me, please.”
“Okay,” she said as she strode with Abby toward the back of the dining room. Hell and damn. She could have predicted this argument between the injured SEAL and his fiancée last night. “Where’s Terry?”
“Nick and Britt and Santiago went to talk some sense into him,” Abby said as she tried to smile to a few guests as they passed. “My grandfather is disturbed, which is not an emotion he does often. He wanted to go, but Nick and the others talked him out of it.”
“And the fight?”
“I have no idea what sparked it, but Terry started to yell at her. Catrina went silent, just stood, and left. He tried to follow, but he caught his wheelchair on a couple of flower pots in the hall and—”
“And what?”
“Wound up on the floor.” Abby whirled to face her, tears bright in her eyes.
“Is he hurt?”
“His pride.”
“That’s a blessing.”
“Nick was there first, Britt close behind. They righted him, but not—not—” Her composure broke, and she wiped away tears from her cheeks. “Not in the head.”
Viv put an arm around her shaking shoulders. “And Catrina doesn’t know he fell?”
“I doubt it.”
“Right. Here’s the elevator. Let’s go.” Viv led Abby inside and helped her sweep up her train into the compartment. “Where’s Catrina’s room?”
“Four-sixteen.”
Viv crossed her arms, chilled by the rift between Abby’s brother and his girl. “I saw them both last night at dinner. They were struggling with the novelty of him being out in the world. This hasn’t been a positive experience for him or her.”
“He wasn’t ready to come out.” Abby shook her head. “We shouldn’t have persuaded him.”
“If he weren’t ready, his doctors wouldn’t have allowed it,” Viv said with conviction. “Am I right? Did they object?”
“No. In fact, they encouraged him to come. Family. Wedding. He’d be with his fiancée.” She snorted. “What could go wrong, right?”
A lot. But she wasn’t going to confirm that. “Maybe Catrina shouldn’t have been his caretaker, either.”
Abby sniffled, considering that with wide eyes. “She’s taken a few classes in behavior mod at BAMC for family members.”
“Oh, well. Training and doing are two different things.”
Abby inhaled, and as the doors swished open, she said, “We hoped for too much.”
“Or too fast.” Viv helped Abby out of the elevator and pointed down the hall in the direction of Catrina’s room. “Are they sleeping in the same room?
Will we find Terry there with Nick and Britt and the others?”
“She and Terry have connecting rooms. So, no.”
“Good. We don’t need the distraction or the possible conflict. Here we are.” Viv halted in front of four-sixteen and knocked. “Ready or not, Catrina.”
“Who is it?” Catrina’s voice was ragged.
“Abby and Viv,” Abby said. “Please let us in.”
“I don’t want any lectures.”
Viv checked Abby’s expression. “Never crossed my mind, Catrina. Please let us come in to talk.”
The door fell open.
Catrina had changed from her fancy red cocktail dress into jeans and a white cotton shirt. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and her makeup a black smudge. She swallowed long and hard a few times and then spun around to the interior of her room.
Abby and Viv followed her in. On the bed, Catrina’s suitcase was open, and she’d thrown in her clothes.
She whirled around, defiant but wringing a well-used tissue in her hand. “I thought I could do this, Abby. I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I understand. I won’t make excuses for him or persuade you to do something you can’t do. Please believe me I’m grateful, and so is my grandfather, for what you’ve done. How you stuck by Terry. Endured—”
“He was fine, you know,” Catrina said with sorrow in her tone. “Fine for so long. Loving, kind, considerate, but as this wedding neared, he couldn’t utter a decent word to me. He was terrorized, spoiling the whole trip with accusations that he’d be a freak and people would scream when they saw him. And when that little girl did just that, I thought he’d die. Then Britt talked to him and he got on the plane in Dallas because— Well, hell, I don’t know. Pride, maybe. Shouldn’t do anything that isn’t what the team wants.” She broke down and sobbed, sinking to the bed.
Both Abby and Viv sank to her side and put their arms around her.
“Catrina,” Viv said, “I understand your sadness. He isn’t who he was. Isn’t what he can be. And he hasn’t found his way into that new person yet. “
The young woman lifted her face and gazed at Viv with curiosity. “You see that?”
“I do. I know a bit of the changes he has to accept.”
“How?” She cocked her head.
No Getting Over You (7 Brides for 7 SEALs Book 2) Page 9