Vengeful Vows (Marriage At First Sight Book 3)
Page 10
Preparing their meal was wonderfully relaxing. He’d never really been one to just sit, preferring active relaxation instead. As a kid his parents had teased him for having ants in his pants, but no matter how much people urged him to stop and smell the roses he’d always needed to be doing something, anything, to feel good. And he felt good now. Anticipation thrummed a steady beat through his veins as he set the table, adding some flowers from the garden and a couple of squat white candles set on colored sand in glass bowls. He’d always had a certain flair for setting the tone of a room—it was something that had stood him in good stead as he’d climbed through the ranks at Horvath Hotels and Resorts.
Thinking about those years reminded him of his friends Nick and Sarah. A few years older than he was, they’d been quick to take him under their respective wings and show him the ropes here at the offices and resort in Port Ludlow. When he’d assumed the top role as CEO of the chain, they’d been as supportive of him then as they had back in the early days. He missed them every single day. Bestowing him with the responsibility of raising their daughter had been a gift he accepted with an immense sense of sadness and duty blended with a whole lot of love.
Despite appearances, he wasn’t as free with his feelings and emotions as people thought. Yes, he had always been that good-time guy who made everyone around him laugh and made everything feel like a party. But overall he was rarely deeply invested in another human being to the extent that he was with his family, or with Ellie and her parents.
And now there was Peyton. He’d thought he could go into marriage keeping things light. How wrong could a man be? Yes, he’d wondered if Peyton’s constant pushback wasn’t just making him want to try harder simply because he wasn’t used to not getting his way. But when he considered it fully, he realized he’d been an idiot to think he could have a marriage without emotions getting complicated. Life was complicated. Their union no less so. And while he’d specified companionship over love everlasting on his application, and assumed she also must have for them to be matched, he now knew that wasn’t enough. Nor would it ever be.
Deep in thought, he went down to the wine cellar and chose a bottle of wine to enjoy with dinner. He’d noticed Peyton had a preference for oaked chardonnay and he knew he had a particularly nice one from New Zealand in his collection. After finding the bottle he went back upstairs, surprised to find Peyton poking around the kitchen.
“Something smelled good, so I had to come downstairs and see what’s cooking.”
He smiled in response. Her office window was above the outdoor grill. There had been an ulterior motive behind his decision to cook the chicken outdoors.
“Did you have lunch?” he asked.
“Lunch? What’s that?” she answered lightly.
“You don’t take very good care of yourself, do you?”
“I do okay.”
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know I do more than okay in the kitchen.”
He grabbed a large round wooden board from under the kitchen bench then went to the fridge and gathered up some tempting goodies to tide them over until dinner was ready. The Brie Maggie had bought at the store was perfectly ripe and Galen added some sun-dried tomatoes, olives and stuffed baby bell peppers to the board along with a few slivers of fresh French bread.
“That looks like a meal in itself,” Peyton said, grabbing one of the peppers and popping it into her mouth.
“Just an appetizer. Shall we take it outside?”
“Can I carry anything for you?” she offered.
“How about you bring the wine and glasses.”
He went and checked the chicken after putting the wooden board on the outdoor table. Peyton sat down and poured them each a glass of wine. He rejoined her, making a point to sit right next to her so they were both facing out to the Sound.
“To us,” he said, lifting his glass toward hers.
“Yes...to us.”
She didn’t wholeheartedly join him in the toast but she made it. He’d take that as a win, he decided.
“Did you get a lot of work done today?”
She nodded. “I’ve spent most of the afternoon compiling my research. The actual writing comes next.”
“I imagine it’s difficult to decide on what you’re going to use and what you need to leave out.”
“Yeah, it can be. Especially when the subject is very close to your heart.”
She helped herself to a piece of bread and spread some Brie on it. He watched as she bit into it and felt his whole body grow taut as she groaned in appreciation.
“This is so good. Try some.”
And just like that, she turned the conversation in another direction. He’d let her, for now, but sooner or later Peyton would begin to open up to him and he’d be right here to listen when she did.
By the time dinner was cooked and they went inside to the dining room to eat, he knew she was beginning to relax. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it had been the morsels of food she’d picked at before dinner, but he sensed she had lowered her barriers a little.
After dinner they retired to the sitting room. It was a beautiful space, with a wooden cathedral ceiling and tall glass sliding doors that opened out onto the deck. The views of the Sound were spectacular. This had been one of the main features of the property that had made him want to buy it, and he’d come to look forward to relaxing in here in the evenings to unwind after work. It was all the better for Peyton’s company tonight.
She sank onto the overstuffed sofa with a sigh of contentment.
“That was a truly beautiful meal. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence. Galen topped up their wineglasses and handed Peyton hers.
“It’s quiet without Ellie,” she commented.
“You’re a natural with her. From helping her overcome her fear of the sleepover, to seeing her off today. You did great.”
Peyton’s face froze for a moment, but then she smiled. He watched her, realizing that when she smiled, there was no joy behind it.
“I’m glad you think so. Despite the fact you haven’t been her father all her life, you do a great job, too—you make it look so effortless.” She sighed and pulled her feet up underneath her on the sofa. “Parenthood doesn’t come naturally to me.”
Galen sensed she had a lot more to say, but was just finding the right words. Rather than prompt her, he maintained his silence and watched the emotions that played over her face. She drew in another deep breath and let it go slowly as if she was gearing up for something really important. He felt his whole body tense in anticipation.
“I—” The word came out as a croak and Peyton cleared her throat before starting again. “I had a baby once. I gave her away.”
Twelve
Her heart hammered in her chest. There, she’d said the words out loud. The secret she’d never disclosed to anyone other than her dad and those immediately involved in the birth and subsequent adoption of her little girl. To his credit, Galen didn’t look as shocked as she thought he might. When he spoke, his voice was incredibly gentle.
“How long ago?”
“Nearly ten years.”
“So your baby would be Ellie’s age now?” He caught on quickly. “That’s got to be difficult for you. I had no idea.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly include the information in my application,” she said, trying to make light of it. “It’s not something I like to talk about.”
But the lump in her throat grew thicker and she swallowed hard against it, worried she might do the unthinkable and actually cry in front of Galen. She always fought to keep her emotions in check. Life was messy enough without them. But right now it was more difficult than usual.
“She was absolutely perfect,” Peyton managed to say, allowing herself a brief moment to remember the rosebud lips, the soft dow
ny blond hair and the sweet scent of her child.
“And her dad? Was he supportive?”
“He was dead.”
“Did he know about the baby?”
She shook her head. “He was a marine. He died on his first deployment. Not active duty—a car accident. I didn’t find out until quite a while after. I thought, when I contacted him to tell him I was pregnant, that maybe he was just ghosting me. Y’know, it was a good time while it lasted but now it’s over kind of thing.”
She saw she had shocked him. He rose from his seat and joined her on the sofa. “Peyton, I’m so sorry. Did you have any help from home?”
“My mom died when I was in junior high. My dad, well...”
She let her voice trail away. How did she describe her dad? Bitter. Angry. Resentful. He had told her she could sort out her own problems.
Peyton didn’t notice the point at which Galen had taken her hand, but right now his warm, steady grip was grounding, something she could focus on rather than the words that tumbled from her.
“It was hell. I was still in college, nearing the end of my degree. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. A few weeks before she was born I finally accepted that no matter what happened, I couldn’t keep her. I just couldn’t offer her the opportunities she deserved. I looked into adoption and through a counselor I received additional information about private adoption. I went for that in the end.”
She didn’t mention how choosing to go with that option had made her feel as though she’d been a womb for hire. As if her baby was a commodity to buy and sell, and not a living, breathing human being. But she’d still have been paying off her student loans now if she hadn’t agreed to her costs being covered by the adopting family.
“Do they share information with you about your daughter?”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted it that way. I didn’t think it was fair to give her away and expect to still be a part of her life.”
“And if she wants to find you one day?”
Peyton shrugged. “The option is open to her. Her adoptive family insisted on it.”
“They sound like decent people.”
“I certainly hope they are, and that she’s happy.”
Her voice broke on the last word and she closed her eyes, not wanting to give in to the feelings that threatened to swamp her. There was a reason she’d kept everything locked deep down inside and that reason was self-preservation. If she’d allowed herself the luxury of indulging in her emotions then the memories would rise up and swallow her, much as they appeared to want to do now. It was too much. She needed a distraction.
“Galen?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you make love to me?”
She felt shock ripple through him, his fingers tightening on her hand in a grip that was almost painful.
“Are you sure about this, Peyton?”
She shifted on the sofa so she was facing him, so his mouth was only a hairbreadth from hers.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Then she leaned forward and kissed him. She didn’t want any more words. Words only reawakened the pain and sorrow she’d pushed so deep down inside. Now she wanted actions, feelings, sensation. Anything and everything so she could just stop hurting again.
His lips were smooth and supple against hers and she wasted no time, rising onto her knees and straddling his lap. She held his head and angled her face so she could kiss him more deeply and felt his body’s answering heat and desire flame to life beneath her. Then his hands were on hers, holding them away from him, and he pulled away slightly.
“What is it? Don’t you want this?” she asked, breathless with the desire that pulsed through her.
“Oh, I want this. I want to be certain you do, too. This isn’t a one-shot deal, Peyton. As much as I want to let you use me to push away your past, I can’t just make love with you and then go back to where we were this morning.”
He was asking for her commitment. It was only reasonable. When it came to her, the man was so fiercely astute it was frightening. But right now her body and her mind clamored for the relief she knew being with him would bring. She didn’t want to think past this moment. And the idea of commitment? It was too much. But he needed a response and she owed it to him.
“I understand,” she forced herself to say.
She’d deal with the outcome of tonight’s choice later. Right now she wanted him and she wanted oblivion, in that order. She kissed him again, shifting her pelvis this time so her body ground against his, letting him know how much she wanted him.
“You’re not being fair, Peyton,” he said against her lips. “You’re tormenting me. In fact, you’ve been a torment since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“Then let’s ease our torment together. Let’s go upstairs.”
She wriggled off his lap and stood in front of him, holding out her hand. She’d made the invitation; it was up to him to accept it. Whatever came next was all down to him. He didn’t hesitate. He took her hand and rose to his feet, then led her through the room and up the stairs and along the gallery to the master suite.
“Now is the time to leave if you don’t want to go any further, Peyton. I’m serious.”
“Then let’s not pretend,” she answered, stepping closer and reaching up to stroke his face. “So solemn. Let’s see if we can’t change that,” she murmured before going on tiptoes and kissing him again.
“I can’t think when you do that,” he protested.
“And when I do this?”
She slid her hands under his T-shirt and up to his chest, where she found the flat discs of his nipples and squeezed them gently.
“And when you do that,” he affirmed.
“And what about this?”
Peyton let one hand slide down his torso, to his belly, to the waistband of his jeans. His sharply indrawn breath allowed her to slip beneath the waistband and to his boxer briefs, where she stroked him through the fabric.
“Most definitely when you do that,” he groaned. “In fact, pretty much when you do anything.”
She gently gripped him, squeezing slightly before letting him go and pulling her hand out. “You’re wearing far too many clothes for what I want to do to you.”
“To me? Or with me?” he asked.
“Both, either. Does it matter?”
“It matters. When it comes to you, Peyton, everything matters.”
There was something in the tone of his voice that gave her pause, made her question whether or not she was doing the right thing. But the steady thrum of her pulse and the deliciously building tension of her body told her more than anything that she was in the right place at the right time. They would find pleasure in one another, that was a given. The man lit her up like the Fourth of July when he kissed her. And when he touched her...
She didn’t want to think anymore. Instead, Peyton reached for his T-shirt and tugged it over his head before letting it drop to the bedroom floor. Then her hands were at his jeans, clumsily undoing the fastenings. She shoved her fingertips under the waistband of his briefs and eased them down over his hips. He stood there in front of her, gloriously naked. She wanted to touch all of him, taste him, feel him. She drew in a shaky breath before tugging away at her own clothes. The moment she was naked she wrapped herself around him, drawing in his strength and heat. His hands spread across her back, holding her even tighter to his body.
Peyton lifted her face to his and welcomed the fierceness of his kiss, the plunder of his tongue. This was what she needed. Him. All of him. Everywhere.
They backed up to his bed and he fell back on the mattress. She straddled him again, pushing his shoulders down until he was flat on the bed. Her hands molded the muscles of his shoulders as she bent her head to his throat and kissed a wet trail down the strong column and farther, to his chest. Her nostrils fla
red at the scent of him: heat and spice together with the fresh scent of the sea. She’d never be able to smell the ocean again without her mind being filled with him. They were intrinsically combined now. She shifted a little so she could continue her trail of kisses, her fingertips tugging gently at the spear of body hair that arrowed below his belly, her lips and tongue following.
His erection strained against her, brushing her breasts as she moved lower. She took him in her hand again and slowly stroked his hot, silky skin. His flesh jerked against her palm and she tightened her hold.
“You like this?” she asked.
“I like everything you do to me,” he growled in reply.
She smiled and arched a brow. “Everything?”
“Everything.” His voice was adamant.
She lowered her mouth to the swollen head of his penis, her tongue darting out to flick against him. Beneath her, he shuddered.
“Especially that,” he said, his voice trembling.
She stroked her hands over his strong thighs and nuzzled the base of him before licking a path along his length and taking him into her mouth. His fingers caught in her hair as she swirled her tongue around him, taking him deeper into her mouth and sucking hard. His entire body tensed and she knew he was on the verge of losing his mind when she eased the pressure of her mouth and rose above him.
She settled herself over his glistening shaft.
“I’m glad we can dispense with any interruptions,” she murmured as she began to take him into her body. “We’re both clean and I’m on birth control.”
He groaned as she sank down on him and rocked her pelvis. “I’m glad you’re glad,” he teased in return, but by the tone of his voice it took every ounce of effort he had left.
She knew how he felt. Right now all she wanted to do was bounce and buck and wring her pleasure from his body. But first, she wanted to pleasure him. She started to move, her motion gentle, deep and slow. Galen lifted his hands and cupped her breasts, his fingertips playing with her nipples—at first gently, then squeezing just a little more tightly until the delicious pain of it made her internal muscles clench on an involuntary wave of pleasure so intense she thought he’d make her come, just like this.