“You’re just what?” he asked, curious about what she was going to say.
She sighed. “I don’t know.” She eased forward, trying to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her. “Mitchell,” she began. “I’m not sure…”
“Have you been standing here trying to talk yourself into being smart and reasonable?” he asked, his voice a low murmur as he turned her around in his arms and leaned down to kiss her softly.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted, her arms going up around his neck.
He loved how she couldn’t seem to help reaching out for him, as if her body responded to his almost against her will.
“Well, I think the smart, reasonable thing would be to go get some dinner and then go home and have sex.”
She shook with suppressed laughter, even as she let him kiss her again. “So that’s the most reasonable thing, is it?”
“Absolutely. It’s just what the doctor ordered. I’m nothing if not a reasonable guy.”
She was smiling and relaxed, and he was already getting excited about what might happen that evening. He wanted to go even further. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling. But he realized now that it would be a mistake.
She was still thinking only of a six-month marriage, and she wasn’t even sure about committing to that with him. If he suddenly burst out that he was crazy in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, she would be dumbfounded, utterly shocked.
And the worst part was, she wouldn’t believe him.
Eleven
A few hours later, Deanna was tangled up in Mitchell’s body, both of them hot and panting and a little sweaty.
She was feeling relaxed and really good after an incredible round of sex, but she was also feeling dangerously close to him—close to him in a way that she knew was utterly stupid.
He was into her. There was no way she could doubt that. But he was the kind of guy who threw himself into whatever he was doing at the moment—and then he’d move on without a second thought once it was over.
He’d told her he wanted to make the best of their marriage, and that was what he was doing.
But she was different. She couldn’t move on so easily. And she was sure—even now—she would be crushed when this was over, and if she let herself get even deeper with him, she might never get over it.
She’d never really been in love before—not completely, anyway. She’d always held a little of herself back, even in the two relationships she’d had that she thought had potential.
There was no potential here, and she was having to fight to hold any of herself back.
She’d needed him, so she’d let things go further than they should have, but now was the time she had to be strong.
Mitchell’s body had softened beneath her, and his hand was gently stroking her hair. It seemed pretty clear he wasn’t intending for them to move anytime soon.
She wanted so much to stay, to nestle against him like she had the night before, but that would be weak, would be foolish, would be everything she’d made sure she wasn’t all her life.
People depended on her. Her grandmother and Kelly and Rose. She couldn’t let herself fall apart.
So with great force of will, she rolled off him, their damp skin clinging where it had been pressed together.
“Where are you going?” he muttered, trying to pull her back against him.
“I’m tired,” she said lightly. “I’m going to bed.”
“That sounds good to me.” His hair was mussed from the way she’d been tugging at it in her passion before, and his expression was almost sweet. “So stay here in bed with me.”
“I’m going to sleep in my room.” She managed to roll off the bed and stand up, although she was a little sore and she felt chilled in the room away from the heat of his body.
“Why?” His brows had drawn together, and he definitely didn’t look pleased.
If she gave him a real reason, or any kind of excuse, he would argue, so she said instead, “Because I want to. Is there a problem with that?”
He stared at her for a long time, emotion she couldn’t recognize reflecting on his face. “I guess not. I just don’t understand why you want to.”
She felt guilty because he was disappointed, but that was ridiculous. “You don’t have to understand. You just have to respect my choices. That’s how things are supposed to work between us.”
“I know. But it seems like maybe you want to stay with me, and I don’t like that you’re making yourself do something against your own wishes.”
He was being serious—far more serious than he normally was—so she didn’t want to blow him off, although that was her first instinct, just to get away as fast as she could. “It’s not against my wishes. I see what you’re saying, but I think you’re reading me wrong.”
He was silent for a moment, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Relieved and upset and ludicrously let down, she grabbed her clothes and headed back into her own suite.
Her rooms were just as lovely and comfortable as they’d always been, but they felt lonely tonight.
***
The next day, Mitchell and Deanna had scheduled to have dinner with George and Gina Fenton.
The restaurant deal was moving quickly, and the lawyers had drawn up the contract, so there were just a few more details to work out before the sale was officially closed.
Deanna should have been happy about it since it meant the main purpose of the marriage was complete. But the thought of it just made her feel a little sick.
Once the deal was done, she wondered if she should suggest ending their marriage early so things wouldn’t get any more complicated than they already were.
It seemed like that was probably the wisest decision to make. She just didn’t want to make it.
She’d done her duty to her family. The work on the house was more than halfway complete. She could pull back now without any betrayal, and then maybe she could start down the very difficult road of getting over Mitchell.
If her feelings got any deeper, she was afraid she’d never get over him.
Mitchell sure wasn’t making it easy on her though.
All evening he’d been acting like Prince Charming, acting sweet and seductive and funny and romantic. His act must have been convincing to the Fentons. Honestly, it was almost convincing Deanna.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he murmured into her ear, as they waited at the entrance of the restaurant for the valet to bring up their car after dinner was over. “Have I told you that?”
“Several times,” she said, trying to sound light and good-humored although her heart, body, and mind were an uproar of need and longing and confusion and fear. “But George and Gina are too far away to hear us, so you don’t need to keep laying it on so thick.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, stiffening slightly. She could feel it quite clearly since his body was pressed up behind her, one of his arms wrapped around her. “I meant it. You look absolutely beautiful.”
She sighed, fighting the instinct to pull away from him. “Thank you.” She wore a dark green dress that made her eyes look greener than they were, and she’d pulled her hair up in a French twist. She felt unusually elegant and sophisticated.
And strange. Like it wasn’t quite her.
Mitchell tilted his head and ran a line of featherlight kisses against her cheekbone and down toward her jaw. “You have no idea how much I love the curve of your neck right here.” He brushed the side of his index finger along her throat, making her shiver again. “It drives me crazy.”
She wanted to lean into his words, have them surround her like a blanket. But she knew they didn’t mean what she wanted them to mean. “It’s just a normal neck.”
“It is not a normal neck. There’s nothing normal about it.” He leaned farther down to press a soft kiss against her throat. “There’s nothing normal about you.”
It sounded like
he meant it, and there was no reason to assume he didn’t. At the moment, he was into her, and it was nice. It made her feel good. Really good.
It just wasn’t enough.
She leaned her head away, trying to discreetly pull away from his kisses.
He noticed the gesture immediately and straightened up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her throat was tight with emotion, but she tried to speak naturally over the lump. “I just think the Fentons are fully convinced we’re a normal couple, so you can back off a little on the romantic act.”
He turned her around to face him and took her face in both of his hands, cupping it gently. “I don’t think you want me to back off. I think you like the romantic act.”
God help her, she did. But she wanted it to be more than an act.
He kissed her on the mouth, and she responded for a few seconds before she made herself pull away.
He let out a frustrated exhale. “What is the matter, Deanna? You can’t tell me you don’t want this. I know you do. So why don’t you just let go and enjoy the moment?”
There. He’d made it clear again. This was just about the moment for him, and it was about a lifetime for her.
“Of course I like to kiss you,” she said, feeling a sudden surge of desperation and trying frantically not to fall apart and make a huge fool of herself. “Of course I’m attracted to you. But what my body wants isn’t necessarily what I want. Don’t you understand that?”
He stared down at her, something almost frozen in his expression.
“You can seduce me if you want, and I may end up relenting and falling into bed with you, but that’s not going to change anything that matters.” She cleared her throat when her voice wobbled. “There are things that are important to me, Mitchell. The most important things in the world to me. I really like you, and I think you’re a great guy, and I’m insanely attracted to you. But sex with you and a six-month marriage of convenience just aren’t the most important things in my world.”
He still looked frozen, and she was momentarily afraid she’d genuinely hurt his feelings.
“It’s nothing personal,” she added quickly, reaching up to put a hand on the lapel of his jacket. “I really do think you’re great, and not just because you’re so hot. But I don’t know how to say this more clearly. I hope… I hope… you’ll respect my wishes.”
“Of course.” He took a step back, dropping his arms and clearing his throat the way she had the minute before. “Of course I will. I didn’t mean to… If this isn’t what you want, then I won’t press it on you.”
His words didn’t sound quite right. He made it sound like there was something about him—who he was—that she didn’t want.
And she did want him. She wanted all of him.
She just didn’t want what he was willing to offer her.
***
That evening, after Deanna went to her suite for the night, Mitchell went outside for a run. He usually worked out on the equipment he had in the house, but he felt like running tonight and the house was claustrophobic.
It was almost midnight when he set off, and he ran in the dark, forcing himself to keep going even after the fatigue set in and sweat was dripping down into his eyes.
He wondered if he could keep running whether eventually his heart would stop hurting so much. Maybe if his body hurt deeply enough, he wouldn’t feel the far deeper pain.
Deanna didn’t want him. All of what he’d been sensing in her—the attraction, the need, the hunger, the comfort—was mostly physical, and she didn’t want him in any other way.
Even when he made a point of not putting any pressure on her—making sure she knew he didn’t want any more than the moment—she still didn’t want him enough.
It made sense. He’d always stood for everything she wasn’t, and all of what she held most dear he’d spent his life brushing away.
There was no reason she would want to spend her life with someone like him. He’d never proven to her—to anyone—that he could commit to a relationship so permanently.
She’d been utterly serious when she spoke to him at the restaurant. She wasn’t going to change her mind.
He’d taken his phone, and when he heard it vibrate with a new text, he slowed down and pulled it out to check, vaguely hoping it was Deanna.
It wasn’t. It was Brie.
Do you and Deanna want to come over for dinner tomorrow?
Even the casual question hurt Mitchell since it seemed to represent everything he couldn’t have. Wiping the sweat off his hands and face with his shirt, he texted back. I can come. Not sure about Deanna.
He thought the reply sounded light and impersonal enough, but evidently Brie sensed something wasn’t right.
His phone rang, and when he picked up, Brie demanded, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s wrong between you and Deanna?”
He was still walking, still breathing fast and shallow. “Nothing. It was just a normal reply.”
“No, it wasn’t. Has something happened? I thought you were going to convince her to stay married to you.”
He let out a sigh that was too long and too loud. “She doesn’t want to be convinced.”
Brie paused for a moment. “I don’t think that’s right. I saw her with you at the hospital yesterday night. I think she’s into you too.”
“Not in that way. She doesn’t want me.”
For some reason, the words sounded final, tragic, heartbreaking. His throat hurt so much he couldn’t breathe.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Did you… did you ask her?”
“In a way. She made it clear.”
“Well, you can’t just ask her in a way. Ask her for real. Maybe she doesn’t know you’re serious. She’s the kind of girl who’s only going to let herself fall in love with a man when there’s a real future. She’s not a temporary or casual kind of girl. You know that. And you’re like the epitome of the temporary, casual guy. Maybe she doesn’t know you’ve changed, that you want something different.”
He felt a ridiculous spark of hope. Maybe that was true. Maybe she really didn’t know—even though he thought his feelings should have been obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes. “She’s all about playing it safe and making good decisions,” he said slowly.
“See? I bet that’s all it is. She thinks you’re not safe because you’ve always before just done whatever was easy. You need to prove to her that you can be in it for the long haul. That you can do the hard thing when you want it badly enough.”
He did want Deanna that much. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t take a full breath.
“Okay,” he said, almost swallowing over the one word. “Okay.”
His heart was soaring now, the way it had been sinking earlier. It made sense. It was exactly right for who Deanna was and who he’d always been himself.
“Go talk to her,” Brie said, sounding as excited as he felt. “Go talk to her right now.”
“Okay.”
“And call me back as soon as you can!”
After he hung up, he stared at the phone for a minute, and then he put it back in his pocket and started to run.
He was two miles from his house, but he sprinted all the way, finally arriving soaked with even more sweat and so breathless he could barely see.
He went immediately to her suite and pounded on the door.
After a moment, he pounded again and called out, “Deanna? Are you asleep?”
She swung the door open, staring at him in bewilderment. “Well, if I was asleep before, I sure wouldn’t be now. What the hell is going on? Are you okay?” Her eyes scanned his face and body with what looked like concern.
Her concern made his heart tighten with sentiment, but he was here now, so he burst out, “I wanted to talk. To you. About our marriage.”
Her face changed. She dropped her head to look at the floor so quickly he couldn’t read her expression. “Oh. Actually, I was thinking about that
too.”
“You were?” He was still gasping and breathless, and he could barely see through the sweat.
“Yeah. I was just lying in bed thinking about it and trying to figure out what to do. Things have gotten… I don’t know… weird and complicated between us.”
It was true. He stared at her, wondering blindly if she’d come to the same conclusion he had.
“And I think we should probably do something about it. This weird limbo isn’t good for either of us.” She sucked in a shaky breath.
Mitchell stood, motionless and speechless, his heart beating in his chest, his head, his ears.
“So,” Deanna said, her voice breaking. “So… I was thinking. Once the restaurant deal goes through, maybe we should just end the marriage early. Before the six months are over, I mean.”
***
Deanna wasn’t sure what to expect from Mitchell after she’d burst out with the conclusion she’d come to after brooding and crying over the situation for too long.
She thought maybe he would go along with it just to make things easier—or else maybe have some real objections, which she would have been willing to listen to and discuss.
She certainly wasn’t expecting what happened.
“No.”
She blinked in surprise at the blunt response. She couldn’t read any expression on his face. He just looked blank.
Since he was clearly out of breath from running and was still gasping heavily, she paused, waiting for him to continue—maybe after he’d caught his breath and processed what she’d said.
But he just kept standing there, his gray eyes far darker than normal and his hair wet with perspiration. “No,” he said again.
“No?” She rubbed her face, trying to make herself think clearly. This whole thing had become such a mess there probably wasn’t any way out. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. We’re not going to end the marriage early. It hasn’t been six months.”
If he’d looked hurt or upset or even angry, she might have been hopeful that he was feeling something just a little similar to her. But he wasn’t any of those things. He was almost hard—and he grew harder as the moments passed.
Marry Me: a Wedding Romance Duet Page 14