The Wife He Needs

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The Wife He Needs Page 8

by Brenda Jackson


  They’d spoken not knowing Garth was fluent in Spanish and understood everything they said. He was tempted to tell them he was the lucky man. However, he figured they would find that out when they saw him and Regan together later.

  He glanced over to where Regan sat after she’d gotten them a table. They had twenty minutes before the lights would start blinking, letting everyone know intermission was over and it was time to return to their seats.

  He recalled the drive to the opera house. He’d ridden in a car with Regan numerous times, but tonight had felt different. She had kept the conversation lively by telling him she’d been asked to host a booth at a career fair at one of the schools next year. She made sure to mention that she’d only committed after checking his schedule to verify it was a day he wouldn’t need her. Since she was thinking about his schedule that far in advance, he hoped that meant she wasn’t giving Harold Anders’s job offer any serious consideration.

  He joined her at the table with two cups of coffee. “Here you are,” he said, placing one in front of her.

  “Thanks. Wasn’t that singer superb?” she asked in an excited voice.

  There was no way he would admit he hadn’t paid attention to the singer since his mind had been filled with sexual thoughts of her. Sitting so close to her in the auditorium had played havoc on his libido. And when the lights had come on for intermission, he’d glanced down to see the split in her gown showing him a portion of her thigh. That hadn’t helped matters.

  “This coffee is good, Garth.”

  Her words intruded into his thoughts. Was it? He hadn’t noticed even though he’d taken a couple of sips. He’d been looking at how perfectly her lips fit on the cup as she tried not to smear her ruby-red lipstick.

  There wasn’t much about Regan that didn’t turn him on, leaving him longing. He’d known it, yet he had still invited her to join him at the château for two weeks. How crazy was that when his prime purpose for coming here had been to put an end to his intense attraction to Regan by meeting up with another woman? Things hadn’t turned out that way, and now his attraction had become red-hot desire.

  He was faced with two choices. He could either handle it or act on it.

  He wasn’t sure how he would handle it, but his mind immediately filled with ways to act on it. There was no need to blame not having sex for so long as the reason for his horny thoughts. Deep down he knew that was just an excuse. He could have had any woman he’d wanted, and he needed to stop claiming he’d been way too busy for one. A man made time for what he wanted, and the truth of the matter was—he hadn’t wanted another woman.

  Not even the one chosen for him by the dating service. He had thought perhaps seeing her in person might create a spark. But now, he had a gut feeling it would not have. He’d sought the woman out for the wrong reasons. He was glad she hadn’t shown up.

  The lights began blinking.

  “I guess that means it’s time to go back. But first I want to thank you for bringing me tonight, Garth. For sharing all the activities with me for the last two days. I know I wasn’t the one who was supposed to enjoy these things with you, and I might be wrong for feeling this way, but I’m glad I got to do them, even if I was a spare.”

  A spare? Was that how she saw it? How could she not? At that moment he decided to give her something else to think about. Meeting her gaze, he said, “There is no other woman I’d rather be here with than you, Regan.”

  There.

  At that precise moment, he had made a decision.

  He wouldn’t handle his intense attraction to her. He intended to act on it.

  There was no reason for him to continue fighting his desire. Regan was a grown woman who could make up her own mind about whether she would want an affair with him or not.

  She smiled. “That’s a kind thing to say, Garth.”

  He had a feeling she didn’t believe him. That meant he had eleven days to convince her he’d meant every word.

  Ten

  There is no other woman I’d rather be here with than you, Regan...

  Garth’s words were still warming Regan’s heart when the opera ended, and they entered the room where the reception would be held. Had he really meant what he said or was he just being kind?

  “This place looks nice,” Garth said, and in a surprise move, he took her hand in his and led her through the throng of people toward an empty table.

  The moment their hands touched, sensations spread up her spine. She inwardly told herself the only reason her hand was in his larger one was because the room was crowded, and he wanted to make sure they stayed together. But what about the other times he’d held her hand tonight?

  Once seated, she glanced around. The table was perfect. It was close to the dance floor and not far from a buffet of hors d’oeuvres. A live band performed an array of music that ranged from classical, jazz, Latin and even R&B. Several couples were already out on the dance floor.

  “I’ll go get our drinks. What would you like?” Garth asked her.

  “A glass of red wine will be fine.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.

  She watched him leave while thinking how nice he looked in his tux. Of course, she’d seen him in a tux before, but still... It showed off his broad shoulders, muscled chest, firm thighs and muscular arms. He was a specimen of a man that any woman would appreciate. She hadn’t missed the number of women checking him out tonight.

  She switched her attention from Garth and his admirers to the architectural beauty of the room. Beams and columns framed high chandeliers. The outside of the building was built in the form of a massive wave. It was beautiful and could rival the opera house in Sydney, Australia.

  “If you’re alone, senorita, I would love to join you,” a deep male voice said.

  Regan glanced up to see a tall, handsome man standing by her table. She was about to tell him that no, she wasn’t alone, when a familiar, authoritative male voice answered. “She isn’t alone. She’s with me.”

  “I’m sorry, senor,” the man said apologetically and quickly walked off.

  Regan looked up at Garth and understood why the man had left so quickly. A fierce frown covered Garth’s face. He handed her a wineglass before sliding into the chair beside her.

  “Sorry I took so long,” he said.

  “You weren’t gone long, and thanks for bringing me the wine,” she said, wondering why he’d acted so protective of her just now. She recalled him doing the same thing at the Westmoreland Charity Ball several months ago. The last thing she wanted was for him to start treating her like he was her protector.

  She took a sip of her wine. “I could have handled him, you know.”

  He met her gaze. “Yes, I know. However, when you’re with me you don’t have to.”

  She didn’t say anything, deciding not to make an issue of it. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” she asked, to change the subject.

  “Hiking.”

  She blinked. “Hiking?”

  “Yes. Of course, you don’t have to go. You can sleep in if you like. But if you decide to join me, it’s best if we get an early start to beat the sun.”

  Regan stared at him. They probably wouldn’t get home before midnight tonight, and he wanted to get up early? She didn’t have a problem being an early riser, but usually she would be in the bed early the night before, as well.

  “Do you want to dance?”

  Since she knew they would be hiking tomorrow, it would have been a good idea to suggest they return to the château. However, a part of her refused to give up a chance to dance with him. “Yes.”

  Garth stood and offered her his hand. Placing her wineglass down, she took his hand and he led her to the dance floor. She felt a tingling sensation just from touching him. She knew things were about to get hotter being in his arms.

  He drew her to him, and
she felt comfortable with her body meshed to his. When he began moving, she automatically followed. She loved remembering the last time they’d danced together. Now, tonight, she would have new memories.

  He still held her hand in his, against his chest. Seemingly against his heart. “Did you enjoy the opera?”

  She looked up at him when she wanted more than anything to place her face on his chest and draw in his scent. “Yes, what about you?”

  “Yes, but I admit to watching you a lot.”

  Her eyes widened. She hadn’t known. “Why?”

  “Seeing the happiness on your face was priceless. I could tell you were really enjoying yourself.”

  A smile spread across her lips. “Yes, I was. But it doesn’t sound as if you were if you were watching me.”

  “I enjoy watching you.”

  She swallowed deeply. “Why?”

  “I just do.”

  A part of her wanted to ask him to be more specific, but she decided not to. The music would be coming to an end soon and she wanted to savor being in his arms while dancing. He then placed his hands around her waist. Was she imagining things or were his fingers at her waist nudging their bodies closer? Or was her body just naturally moving closer to his?

  The music was a slow Spanish concerto. Garth was an excellent dancer and she followed his lead. He’d said he enjoyed looking at her. Was there more to it than that? Was she wrong to hope there was? Was she wasting her time even thinking such a thing?

  At that moment she really didn’t want to spend a lot of time thinking. Instead she wanted to bask in the feel of being in his arms.

  So she rested her head on his chest.

  * * *

  Garth glanced down at Regan. He liked the feel of her head resting against his shoulder. He doubted she knew how many times tonight he’d thought about kissing her. He had admitted to not being able to keep his eyes off her and that would have been the perfect opportunity for him to tell her how much he desired her, ached for her.

  But he hadn’t.

  However, he would—just not now, not here.

  He was tired of resisting.

  She lifted her head from his chest and her gaze locked with his. For the longest time, they stared at each other. Sexual hunger took over every part of his being. Surrendering to a primitive force he could no longer fight, he lowered his head to hers. Their mouths were a breath apart when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He swung his head around.

  “May I cut in?”

  Maybe Garth should have felt grateful that the man’s untimely arrival had stopped him from kissing Regan in the middle of the dance floor, but he didn’t. All he felt was a high degree of annoyance. “No, you can’t.”

  Dismissing the man’s presence, Garth turned to Regan. “I’m ready to leave.”

  She nodded. “So am I.”

  Twenty minutes later, Garth brought the car to a stop in front of the château. He noticed Regan hadn’t said anything since leaving the opera house. Was she upset with him for behaving like a Neanderthal with that guy who’d wanted to dance with her? Acting territorial, as if he had every right to do so?

  “Are you upset with me?” he asked. He wanted to know now, before they went inside.

  She glanced over at him. “No, although I don’t understand why you feel the need to act like my protector.”

  Was that what she thought? Even when he’d come within a moment of kissing her? “I wasn’t acting like your protector, Regan.”

  “Then what?”

  He broke eye contact to draw in a deep breath. She had to know, or at least suspect, he desired her. Was she waiting for him to spell things out? If so, then he would. “We’ll talk about it when we get inside. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He got out of the car to open the passenger door for her. Then he took her hand in his, and they walked to the front entrance. He let them inside.

  “I’d love a cup of coffee while we talk. What about you?” he asked her.

  “Yes, I’d love a cup, too, but first I’d like to get out of this gown and shoes. Could you give me ten minutes?”

  He nodded as a vision of her getting out of the gown and shoes filtered through his mind. “Yes, I could use ten minutes, as well.”

  Garth noted he was still holding her hand. Looking down at their joined hands, he lifted them to his lips. That wasn’t enough. Releasing their hands, he placed his at her waist while staring down at her. He needed to do the one thing he’d almost done on that dance floor. The one thing he’d dreamed of doing to those lips for quite some time.

  “Garth?”

  He saw mixed emotions in her gaze and knew there was only one remedy. He lowered his head to hers.

  She released a moan the moment their mouths connected. He heard it and the sound shook him to the core. When their tongues mingled, dueling like they couldn’t get enough of each other, his control shattered.

  Tightening his arms around her waist, he drew her closer as he deepened the kiss in a way that had him moaning right along with her. He was deliberately mating their mouths and he didn’t want her to concentrate on anything other than the way his tongue was stroking hers. Fire stirred in his loins, arousing him in ways he hadn’t experienced in years, if ever.

  Knowing they couldn’t stand here and kiss forever—although he wished like hell they could—he reluctantly brought the kiss to an end. He saw the desire in her gaze and was tempted to kiss her again. Instead he said, “We meet back here in ten minutes, right?” He dropped his hands from her waist and slowly backed up.

  “Can we make it twenty?” she said softly, as she also began slowly backing away.

  “Yes.”

  She turned and quickly walked to her bedroom and he walked toward his. Entering the bedroom, he eased the tuxedo jacket from his shoulders and then removed his tie. He wondered if Regan still thought he was acting like a protector. Would a protector kiss her the way he just had? He couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking right about now.

  * * *

  Regan leaned against the bedroom door. Breathing in deeply to slow down the wild beating of her heart, struggling to come to terms with what had just happened.

  Garth had kissed her. He had actually kissed her.

  Nobody knew the number of times she had fantasized about him doing what he’d just done. Should she pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming? Should she regret it, since technically he was her boss? Common sense told her that maybe she should do both of those things, but common sense was something she lacked right now.

  She moved away from the door to the mirror on the wall to take a look at her reflection. Namely, her mouth. She smiled when she saw a pair of lips that had been thoroughly kissed by Garth Bartram Outlaw. A kiss that had shaken every nerve in her body. Even now, she felt her insides quivering.

  Moving from the mirror, she slid out of her shoes and then danced around the room, on top of the world. What had Garth meant by the kiss? He had certainly put to rest her assumption that he’d been acting like her protector. As far as she was concerned, Garth was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. He’d certainly been hers. No matter how many guys she’d dated, they hadn’t been Garth. No guy had held a light to him. None.

  But what had that kiss meant? Was it just his testosterone acting up or could it mean more?

  As she slid out of her gown, she hoped it was more. She traced her lips with her tongue. Yes, definitely she wanted more. But, she had to be realistic. She had to think about what more would entail. Yet, at the moment, she didn’t want to think at all.

  She glanced at her watch. She now had less than ten minutes to redress. What would they talk about? Would he tell her he’d decided after all this time that he loved her and—

  Regan suddenly went still. She needed to calm down and stop acting like a sixteen-year-old wh
o’d gotten kissed by the most popular boy in school. She had to stop thinking about things that might not happen...like another kiss, the feel of his hands all over her, him stripping off her clothes, taking her against that pillar he liked leaning against.

  She needed to pull herself together, and no matter how difficult that might be, she would do it.

  * * *

  Precisely twenty minutes later, after changing into a pair of jeans and a shirt, Garth returned to the foyer just as Regan did. He nearly missed a step when he saw the outfit she’d changed into. It was a beautiful jumpsuit with an off-the-shoulder neckline that emphasized the curve of her neck.

  His gaze traveled up to her face and zeroed in on her mouth, the lips he’d tasted earlier. She had applied more lipstick. He fought the urge to close the distance between them and kiss it off.

  While getting undressed, several alarming thoughts had filled his mind. What if Regan wasn’t ready for what he wanted? If he were to let his desires be known and they weren’t reciprocated, it could push her toward ending her employment with the company. If he proposed an affair, things could get messy if it didn’t work out. It would not only ruin his relationship with her, but also with Franklin. Could he risk all of that?

  “There are a couple of Paulo’s muffins left from this morning. I plan to grab one. Would you want one, as well?” she asked as they walked side by side to the kitchen. “I bet it would go well with the coffee.”

  He picked up on the slight nervousness in her voice. He didn’t want her to feel uneasy around him. He would do and say whatever it took to remove any tension between them.

  “I bet so, too, but I’ll pass. I had enough sweets for the night. Go ahead and grab your muffin and I’ll get the coffee started,” he said in a lighthearted tone.

  “Okay.”

  He moved to the counter where the coffeepot sat and couldn’t resist glancing over at her as she moved toward the refrigerator. That outfit looked pretty damn nice on her. In fact, she looked good in anything she put on her body...even her pilot uniform. But what was on his mind now, more than anything, was her taste. No woman’s mouth had a right to taste as delectable as hers had tasted.

 

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