The Manning Brides Page 9

  “Not on your life.”

  “This is my home,” Jamie cried, quickly losing her grip on her rage. She’d never known Rich could be so unreasonable, so rude, so…impossible.

  “You’re just like every other woman I’ve ever known,” Rich repeated in unflattering tones.

  “And you’re just like every other man, so wrapped up in your own ego that it’d take a whack on the head with a two-by-four to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

  “It wasn’t me who went out behind your back,” he shouted. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.

  “Why do you care if I had dinner with a dozen men?” she demanded. “It never bothered you before!”

  “We weren’t married before.”

  “I’m not your possession,” she said. “You have no right, husband or not, to tell me who I can see and who I can’t.”

  “The hell I don’t.”

  Jamie squeezed her eyes shut. “I knew this wasn’t going to work…I told you it wouldn’t, but would you listen? Oh, no, you knew so much better.”

  “I still do.”

  Jamie couldn’t help it, she stamped her foot. She hadn’t done anything so childish since junior high. “Look at us,” she cried, her voice shaking with anger. “I’m…I’m not even pregnant yet and already we’re fighting. We’re going to ruin everything fighting over something so…stupid.”

  “It isn’t stupid to me.”

  “Floyd is just a friend. For heaven’s sake, he’s married!”

  “So are you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she cried.

  “All I’m asking is that you keep your part of the bargain and I’ll keep mine. That shouldn’t be so difficult.”

  “Oh, right,” she said, walking around the table and leaning on the back of a chair. “There’s a lot more involved in this arrangement than I ever knew about or agreed to and—”

  “Like what?”

  “Like…like your caveman attitude toward me.”

  “Caveman? Because I don’t want my wife dating another man—another married man?” He glared across the room at her. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I seem to remember a phrase or two in the wedding vows that state—”

  “Don’t you dare.” Jamie pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare,” she repeated. “I never wanted to go through with the wedding, and you knew it. Using it against me now is the height of unfairness.”

  “We’re married, Jamie, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it, I hate it. I hate everything about it—this is the biggest mistake of my life.” Unable to bear any more arguing, she whirled around and covered her face with her hands. If there was any decency left in him, Rich Manning would go. He’d leave her alone.

  Jamie’s nerves were raw, and the hair at the nape of her neck bristled as she heard Rich walk toward her. The clipped pace of his steps did nothing to reassure her.

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “No!” she shouted, furious that he’d ask such an outrageous question.

  “Good, because I’m going to.” His hands moved over her shoulders, clasping them, holding her in place.

  “No.” She made one weak protest, but she didn’t know who she was talking to, Rich or herself. He’d kissed her once, the day of their wedding, and it had obsessed her ever since. She couldn’t allow him to destroy her equilibrium again, destroy her peace of mind.

  Although she resisted, Rich turned her around to face him. Jamie was on fire, and he’d barely touched her.

  Rich took hold of her chin, his fingers firm, yet oddly gentle. Without another word, he bent down and covered her mouth with his own. Jamie knew she shouldn’t let him do this. Not in the heat of anger. Not when they were fighting. Not when his kiss would only create a need for more.

  He tasted so good, so wonderful. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this so-called marriage was fair.

  He moved his mouth over hers, shaping her lips with his own until she moaned. It seemed to be what he was waiting for. The instant her lips parted, his tongue swept inside.

  Shock waves vibrated through her at the small, ruthless movements of his tongue. Jamie could feel herself melting against him. The need continued to build within her, licking at her senses, growing hotter and stronger and fiercer….

  Not satisfied with her lips alone, he kissed her eyes, her throat, until Jamie felt as if she was about to ignite.

  A frightening excitement exploded inside her, going beyond mere pleasure and quickly advancing to a demand so intense there would be no turning back for either of them.

  “Rich…no.” She braced her hands against his chest, wanting to use that leverage to break away.

  “Yes,” he countered with a groan. His arms circled her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly from the floor, adjusting her hips against his own so she was aware of what she was doing to him—of the need she’d created in him.

  Jamie slipped her arms around his neck, inclined her head and kissed him back. She felt sensual, wanton…and a little scared.

  A low, rough sound rumbled from deep within his throat.

  “Rich…please, oh, please, we’ve got to stop.” Her heart was reeling with excitement but she was terrified of where this might lead. Terrified that, after tonight, she’d never be able to live with a marriage that wasn’t a marriage.

  “Not yet.” He pressed his lips to her neck, running the tip of his tongue across the smooth skin of her throat and up the underside of her jaw. Jamie threw back her head. A ribbon of warm pleasure braided its way down her spine.

  She buried her fingers in his hair and sighed, feeling breathless and hot. So breathless she could barely gulp in enough air. So hot. Hotter than she’d ever been.

  He lifted her higher, leaning her against the kitchen counter. His hands worked the buttons of her blouse, sliding it from her shoulders. Her bra closed in the back, and he reached for and found the clasp.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, caressing her thighs, stroking them as he spread delicate, moist kisses across her neck.

  “I…don’t know.”

  “Funny, I do,” he countered with a lazy, sexy laugh. “You want me.”

  Jamie couldn’t disagree. She could barely speak as a powerful coil of need tightened within her.

  “Deny it.” His tongue moistened a trail from the hollow at the base of her throat to her trembling chin.

  “I can’t.”

  “Me, neither.” He swept her from the counter, shifting her weight until she was completely in his arms. He carried her as if she weighed nothing at all and headed out of the kitchen. He paused to turn off the light.

  “Rich.” She had to say something before it was too late. “We’ll regret this in the morning.” Even as she spoke, she wound her arms around his neck.

  “Maybe.” He didn’t bother to deny it, but it didn’t stop him, either.

  Her bedroom was dark. Moonlight splashed through the open drapes, and Rich slowly lowered her onto the bed.

  There was no turning back now.

  Seven

  They were silent afterward, their breathing labored, their chests heaving. Rich wished Jamie would say something. Anything. She didn’t, and slowly reality returned, inexplicably linked with the glory of what they’d shared.

  Rich kissed her softly, gently, with none of the urgency he’d felt earlier. He slid his fingers into the silky length of her hair and sighed with satisfaction. He kissed her again, reveling in her warm, sweet taste. He longed for her to tell him she experienced no remorse over their lovemaking. He’d been so angry, such a jealous idiot, and one thing had led to another. Before he could stop it, they were making love. She’d warned him, claimed they’d be left with regrets, but he felt none. Only a powerful sense of honesty.

  Rich realized his weight was too much for her, but when he tried to move, she resisted, tightening her hold on him, hooking her ankles over his.

  “Don’t leave me,
” she whispered.

  “No.” He had no intention of doing so. “But I’m too heavy for you.”

  “Stay with me like this. Please.” She stroked his back, her touch feather-light.

  He would stay like this because she asked, but only for a little while. They both needed sleep and the thought of waking up beside her thrilled him almost as much as the memory of everything they’d done together in the last hour.

  The silvery moonlight illuminated her face. He noticed that her eyes were languorous, her face flushed with pleasure. Her lips were turned up slightly in a secret smile. A serene, womanly smile. Just watching her, loving her, brought him peace. Because he did love her, and he was astonished that he hadn’t recognized it earlier. Astonished at his own lack of perception. The love he felt for her burned within his chest, literally burned. The depth of emotion he felt had everything to do with this woman, and the profound pleasure he’d experienced was only part of that.

  Her skin felt like silk beneath his hands as he brushed his fingertips down the side of her face. She sighed, and her breath caught in her throat.

  Rarely had Rich experienced such contentment. The magnitude of it left him feeling weak and humble. Tucking his arms securely around Jamie’s waist, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She made a small sound of surprise, then smiled peacefully, nestled her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was asleep.

  Slumber didn’t claim him as quickly. He remained in awe of the emotions crowding his heart. For years he’d been blind and deaf when it came to his feelings for Jamie. Others had seen it. James had immediately recognized the love Rich felt for her and said as much. Rich had been quick to laugh and deny what was obvious to everyone but himself.

  It had taken an argument to push him over the edge, push them both past the point of no return. If he had any regrets, it was that this discovery had come so late—and on the heels of a heated exchange.

  He sighed and watched Jamie in the moonlight. She slept, utterly tranquil, and his heart swelled with a love so strong it was all he could do not to wake her and tell her what he was feeling. He wanted to, but it would be selfish not to let her sleep. He kissed her temple and closed his eyes, content to keep his wife secure in his arms.

  Sometime toward dawn, Rich woke. Jamie was sleeping on her side and he was cuddling her, their bodies pressed intimately together. He smiled, a smile that came from his heart. They were like a long-married couple, completely comfortable with each other, as though they’d been sleeping together for years.

  This was exactly what Rich intended, to continue sleeping with Jamie night after night for the rest of their lives. They’d grow old that way, gracefully, together. God willing, they’d raise several children, who’d be sheltered by the love their parents shared.

  Rich stirred once more a little after six. Yawning, he stretched his arms above his head. He’d been working a lot of extra hours on a contract Boeing had with the government and he needed to get to work soon, despite the weekend.

  He slipped out of bed and gazed down on Jamie, then leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. Hurrying to the shower, he whistled a cheerful tune.

  In a joyous mood, Rich sang at the top of his lungs. He expected Jamie to be awake when he returned to the bedroom, but was disappointed to discover she was still asleep. He dressed and went out the door. He’d phone her later, as soon as he had a chance. He tended to get involved in his work and forget about the time, but he’d try not to let that happen. They had to talk.

  Jamie woke at eight. Although she was sleeping on her side, facing the wall, she sensed almost immediately that Rich had gone.

  He’d left without a word. Abandoned her to deal with the emptiness of the morning. Alone.

  Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip. The feeling of betrayal, of total isolation, was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  Their argument played back in her mind, over and over. Every ugly word they’d said, the accusations, the hurt, echoed in her mind, taunting her again and again.

  His reaction the night before made perfect sense in the bright light of morning. It must’ve been more than his pride could take to find her with Floyd. Something inside Rich had cracked.

  Her evening with Floyd, no matter how innocent, must’ve been like a slap in Rich’s face. He’d reacted in anger and pain, not because he cared. The reason for his outburst was directly related to his male ego. What had started out as an argument had eventually progressed to a physical exchange.

  Rich had kissed her. First in anger. Then in need. A need fed by frustration and jealousy. He might not want a real marriage, but his pride demanded at least the pretense.

  The image of her husband standing in her kitchen was unforgettable. He’d been furious with her. Although she’d had her back to him at the time, she knew she’d outraged him when she’d said that their marriage was the biggest mistake of her life.

  A terrible tension had followed, so impenetrable that Jamie doubted she could’ve said or done anything to relieve it. Sitting up in bed, she pushed her tangled hair away from her face.

  Rich hadn’t kissed her for any of the right reasons. He’d done it because he hadn’t believed her. He assumed Floyd had kissed her, and he couldn’t tolerate another woman cheating on him—even if it was only in his imagination.

  During all the years of their friendship, Jamie had seen Rich as distinct from the other men she’d known. That had been the first of several mistakes. Rich was exactly like them, competitive and territorial.

  A few weeks earlier, he’d attempted to set her up with his engineering friend, Bill whatever-his-name-was. Now Rich couldn’t stand her speaking to another man, even someone as blameless as Floyd Bacon. Good grief, Floyd was married! Did Rich honestly think she’d stoop to that level? Apparently he did, which didn’t say much for his opinion of her.

  She’d never seen Rich act more irrational. He’d refused to listen to her explanation, had been rude and arrogant in the extreme. And for what reason? None! At least none she could understand.

  What he’d said about their being married was true enough—on paper. But their relationship wasn’t any different now than it had been before the ceremony.

  Except that it was. Everything she’d feared was coming to pass.

  They’d been married a month, and look what had happened. It wouldn’t depress her quite as much if Rich hadn’t left her to face the morning alone. The questions tormented her, eroding her pride and self-confidence.

  If only he’d said something afterward.

  If only she’d said something.

  It had all been so beautiful. Their lovemaking had captured her heart, her soul.

  Jamie had longed to tell him everything she was feeling, but she’d been afraid. Afraid he hadn’t experienced the same wonder. Afraid he’d be embarrassed. Afraid he had regrets. She couldn’t have borne knowing that, not when everything had been so perfect for her.

  Evidently he’d had second thoughts, otherwise he wouldn’t have abandoned her, slipping away like a thief in the night.

  Reluctantly, Jamie climbed out of bed and into the shower. The pulsating spray struck her skin like dull needles. The need to release her anguish in the form of tears left her throat aching and raw, but she refused to cry. She didn’t have the time. It was her turn to work the Saturday morning shift at the bank. She was already behind schedule.

  Wrapping a towel around herself, she went back into her bedroom—and came to a sudden stop. She covered her cheeks with her hands, mortified to find her carelessly discarded clothes from one end of the room to the other. The memory of how eager they’d been for each other added to her shame and humiliation.

  Jamie dressed quickly, then hung last night’s clothes in the farthest reaches of her closet and hurried out the door, not bothering with more than a cup of instant coffee.

  Rich tried phoning Jamie at quarter to ten. Surely she’d be up and about by then. The phone rang three times bef
ore he was invited to “leave a message.” He hung up. Later, he promised himself. He’d try later.

  It was noon before he had a chance to call again. When she still didn’t answer, he become irritated and set the receiver down harder than he’d intended.

  “Problems?” Bill Hastings asked, walking into Rich’s office.

  “Not really.” He did his best to appear nonchalant.

  “Don’t try to kid me,” Bill said, sitting on the corner of Rich’s desk, his left foot dangling. “I know the look when I see it—I’ve worn it often enough myself. You’ve got woman problems.”

  It wouldn’t do any good to deny it, so he said nothing.

  “Pamela?”

  “Not this time.”

  Bill’s eyebrows shot upward. “Someone else? You’ve been lying low lately. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

  “I’m not…exactly.” It was a half truth, which also made it a half lie. He wasn’t seeing anyone. He was a married man, only Bill didn’t know that and Rich wasn’t in any mood to announce it now. Not when he didn’t know what was going on between him and Jamie.

  Last night had been good for them. Every time he remembered their lovemaking, his head spun and he felt warm inside. It wasn’t a sensation he was familiar with, since he’d never experienced anything like it in other relationships.

  He’d thought, at least he’d hoped, that Jamie had shared in the magic they’d created, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

  At two, Rich decided to try Jamie one last time. He might be reading more into her not answering the phone than she intended. Maybe she simply wasn’t there to answer it. After all, Saturdays were often busy with errands.

  He’d phone again and if there still wasn’t any answer, the hell with it. A man had his pride.

  He’d wait until she called him.

  The phone was ringing when Jamie, struggling with a bag of groceries, tried to remove the key from her purse and unlock her front door. Once she’d thrown open the door she raced across the room, praying with everything in her that it was Rich.