Marriage of Convenience (13 page)

But Malcolm was turning out to be more sensual than she could have imagined. He was thoughtful, adventurous, and kind. Their conversation was interesting; his interests matched hers, and the financial support of her business wouldn’t be bad either.

Even taking this dominant role just once could throw her plan off for good. She’d let herself go when they’d made love, and she’d convinced herself that in doing so she was simply ensuring his interest so that they could repeat the session in an effort to have a baby.

She had to fight hard to maintain her composure. Just sitting naked above him, staring into his eyes was sending tingling sensations to parts of her that she never thought about. She let her eyes fall over his unshaven face, muscled chest, and flat stomach. The rest of him was concealed by her own body, but she felt him stiffen underneath her, and she knew that he was watching her watch him. He knew where her eyes would have fallen had the view been unobstructed.

A smile played on Caroline’s lips. “I think I’d better warn you that I took horseback riding lessons as a child.” She said the words softly, slowly rising off his hips. She felt him draw up and spread his knees as his hips lifted to maintain contact with her.

“And?” Malcolm managed as she slid back down onto him. He watched himself disappear between her legs.

“Well, I enjoy riding. And I’m good at it.”

She watched Malcolm’s eyes darken and felt him thicken within her.

****

Caroline held his shoulders firmly and pressed her knees into his sides while her head fell back. Malcolm could feel her hair tickling his thighs. He was becoming so overstimulated he wasn’t sure he could handle much more.

Each time she came down on him, he thrust up into her, grinding his body, going as deep inside her as he could. The more he thrust up the more vigorously she bucked and pumped into him, wild and nearly uncontrolled. He felt as though his entire world was rocking, tilting him dangerously toward oblivion. He’d come twice already, but she wasn’t letting up. And he wasn’t going down. He’d experienced more pleasure in the past thirty minutes than he’d ever imagined possible.

Feeling himself about to climax again at the same moment her felt her inner body clench around him, he shifted their position and brought her beneath him. She made a whimpering sound and angled her hips in an effort to maximize the friction between them. Her body jerked, and she cried out. He followed immediately behind her. He held her to him, wanting to maintain the intimate contact.

Caroline stretched out on top of him and locked her legs around his. She slipped her hands over his chest and around his shoulders, pulling him closer while kissing his chin, cheek, and lips. Malcolm threaded his fingers through her hair, and they held each other in a cocoon made warm by their heat as they waited for their heart rates to steady.

“Think we’ll make dinner?”

“Oh, I think we’re well past that.” Caroline giggled and stretched. She felt a slight tightness in her inner thigh and enjoyed the memory of what had put it there.

“How about ordering something and eating here?”

“Sounds good. Any favorites?”

“Thai?”

“You read my mind!” Caroline smacked her lips. “I love Thai.”

Malcolm reached for the phone next to the bed and searched its memory for the restaurant phone number.

“What would you like?”

“Hhhmm. Gai Pad Met Mamuang would be great, if they have it. Otherwise, Pad Thai will do. What are you going to have?” Caroline was fairly set on her choices, but she wasn’t opposed to changing her mind.

“Well, those are good choices. But I think I’ll go with Kang Keaw Gai. I like the sweet curry.”

“Oohh, that sounds good, too. Maybe … no, no, I’ll still do the Gai Pad. Maybe we can share?” Caroline looked at him hopefully. Having grown up in a household with two men, she was aware of the bond between men and their food, but she had her hopes.

Malcolm gave her a sideways glance confirming her thought. And then with a grin he said, “Maybe. If you’re nice to me.”

The food on its way, they dressed slowly, taking time to touch and tease as they did so. Neither was fully dressed when the lobby desk attendant called to announce the arrival of their dinner forty minutes later.

“When I was in college I heard about poetry slams, but I can’t say I was ever really interested. I was missing out. Are they all like that?”

“Every one I’ve been to. Some writers and performers are definitely more talented than others, but there’s typically enough talent throughout the evening that I never feel I should have spent my time doing something else.”

Malcolm and Caroline walked arm in arm down the street.

“Want to stop in there for a drink?” Malcolm asked. He wasn’t as interested in the alcohol as he was in prolonging their evening. He had a double shift tomorrow since he’d been off the last couple of days, but he didn’t want to end their time together. He’d had an amazing day. He knew that their marriage would be different—the reality of day to day life would be something they’d have to adjust to, but the fact that they could spend a great deal of time together and enjoy every moment was important. It meant relaxing evenings, enjoyable weekends, and adventurous vacations.

When Gloria had told him about her idea, he’d been skeptical. And after his first round of dates, he’d been absolutely against the idea of continuing. But he now had no doubt he was going to propose to Caroline, and he had little doubt that his proposal would be accepted. He didn’t delude himself into thinking they knew each other’s darkest secrets or utmost desires, but he felt a connection that would allow them to share those things with time.

In the end, despite his father’s ridiculous demand and his anger at being forced into a marriage, something he’d never even considered, he thought he just might pull off a great coup.

He pointed to a dueling piano bar. The sign flashed open, but the posting was superfluous; the sound of melodious ivories spilling out the open door as old patrons exited, and fresh ones pushed past them in the opposite direction welcomed every pedestrian who happened by.

“Have you been to this one?” Caroline asked.

“No, but I’ve been to enough to know that they’re pretty much the same. You’ll enjoy it.” Malcolm described the plush couches and chairs, and waitresses in mock tuxedo garb offering mixed drinks and cigars. The ambiance would follow the music, he said, relaxed and almost jazzy for one set, then heel tapping and swinging with the next.

Malcolm could see she was interested. But instead of leading him in, she snuggled up to him. He pulled her tightly to him. She looked up at him, smiled, and kissed his chin. “I don’t want the evening to end here, but I have to be at the shop early tomorrow. How about a drink at my place?”

Though he’d picked her up at her place for their first date, Malcolm hadn’t been asked inside. He hadn’t even considered that alternative and was intrigued by the suggestion. He didn’t necessarily think his place was a real indication of his inner being. It had been professionally decorated after all, but he thought there were some touches in the architecture anyway that reflected his interests. He didn’t think Caroline would live in such a sterile environment, and he was interested to see what it might say about her.

****

“Oh my God, it is you! And you’re as handsome as ever.” Caroline turned toward the squeal. A leggy blonde was unfolding herself gracefully from a hired car that had pulled silently to the curb. Her face wreathed in a smile, all teeth visible, the woman all but pranced toward them. For his part, Malcolm stood stoically, mouth agape. But he watched the woman’s every move. And when she threw her arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, he placed his hands on her upper arms. Pulling her closer? Caroline stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself and stood silently. If Malcolm was aware of the change in her mood, he gave no indication.

Caroline watched in dismay as the woman pulled back and ran her hands down the sides of Malcolm’s face.

“You’ve always been just too damn hot. I’m happy to see you haven’t changed.” Caroline almost vomited when the woman licked her lips, wiggled closer to Malcolm’s side, and giggled like a school girl. This show would definitely not be the highlight of her evening. .

“God, I’ve missed you. What an amazing coincidence, running into you here, of all places. Say we can get together later tonight,” she said, fluttering her lashes. Caroline coughed lightly, hoping to draw the woman’s attention to the fact she and Malcolm were on a date and get the reunion over with.

“Malcolm, you silly boy, why didn’t you introduce me to your sister?” She swatted his arm, and Caroline shook the hand she offered. “I am so sorry! Here I am running off at the mouth and interrupting your family time. I can be so narrow in my focus sometimes. I’m Elsy. Please. Say we can be friends. Like sisters.” Caroline didn’t believe the woman was interested in friendship with her or any other woman. The woman smiled, but it was more a baring of her teeth than a genuine sign of affection. No warmth reached her eyes. The woman scrutinized her as though she were an insect under a microscope. And she definitely seemed the sort to then torch the creature with a magnifying glass and some UV rays.

Finding his voice, Malcolm said, “This is Caroline. And she isn’t my sister. I’m an only child. You know that.” His voice was quiet. His face was unreadable. Caroline’s own, she knew, was not. Her face flushed, and her hands clenched. Only arrogance could keep the other woman from fearing for her life.

The face giggled again. “Of course. Silly of me.” She shrugged and turned her back to Caroline. “So what do you think? You, me, a little wine? I know how you like the sweet stuff. My treat.” She pouted prettily and snuggled closer, encouraging a positive response. Her sultry eyes seemed to beg him to remember the good times.

“I’m sorry. I was about to take Caroline home.” Attempting to extract himself from her grip, he gestured toward Caroline and took a step in her direction.

Another pout. “Sweetie, put her in a cab. Pay the fare, if it will ease your conscience. There’s no need to allow her to interfere with what we have.” Elsy stepped back into his personal space, running her hands up his chest and leaving them to rest on his shoulders.

Malcolm took her hands in his and squeezed them together. “It’s getting late. I should get her home.” Again, he stepped toward Caroline who stood impassively, her brain’s self-preservation mechanism reacting to her body’s anger and shock by allowing her to grow numb to the display in front of her.

Elsy emitted a forced laugh. “What, will she turn into a pumpkin?” She giggled, disbelief coloring her tone. “Honestly, darling, don’t let this little thing ruin us.”

Malcolm wrapped his arm around Caroline’s shoulder and led her to the curb. “I think it’s the carriage that turns into a pumpkin, not the woman.” He smiled his goodbye, turning his back on her to face the street.

Malcolm hailed a cab, the late hour making the task easier, and Caroline gave the cabbie her address. She sat rigid on the hard, vinyl seat of the cab’s back bench. She cursed herself under her breath. Why had she just stood there? She could have defended her man. Or at the very least, stood up for herself. Instead, she’d stood there like an idiot. Her face was still flushed as she reasoned with herself silently that she had done nothing wrong. The heat flared again, but with anger as she replayed the scene in her mind.

The woman had come out of nowhere, and would have ignored her presence altogether had she not made herself known. Caroline fumed. Malcolm had made no effort to put her on equal footing with the woman. But perhaps that was the way it would be. She’d said “what we have”. Present tense. Clearly there was something going on between them. But what? And if there was, why was Malcolm interested in her? Why didn’t he simply marry legs? She was obviously beautiful and had known him longer than Caroline had.

Caroline didn’t like feeling she was the third wheel. She’d been made to feel like the proverbial red-headed stepchild her whole life. She wouldn’t be that again. Her shoulders tensed and tightened as she continued to recall the words. She was sure the woman had unwittingly called her a princess in her parting plea. It did nothing to endear the woman to her. In anything, it made her seem more desperate. Caroline huffed and checked her thoughts. The woman probably had no idea what “desperate” was. Stupid perfect legs.

Malcolm reached his hand out, palm up, across the empty divide that separated them.

Caroline saw the movement in her peripheral vision and turned slightly to look at what could only be called a peace offering. Her face clouded, emotions tightening her mouth and narrowing her eyes. Surely he understood the message he’d sent with his behavior. The hand remained steady and open. Was she supposed to read that as an apology? Did he even realize that she was upset? Caroline tried to determine if it mattered that she might never have answers to these questions. Would she be the one to declare an end to them before they’d really begun? Was she going to allow that woman to ruin her dream? A dream that a day ago had been so elusive, was so close now. And things were changing, weren’t they? This morning she’d felt so close to him. In love? But now? How could she be? He clearly had an agenda. Well, so did she.

Placing her hand in his, Caroline allowed herself to be pulled close. She told herself that once she had her baby she didn’t really need the man anyway. The other woman, any woman, was welcome to him. Such an arrangement would only make the vision she’d created for her life with her baby more probable.

They snuggled together deep into the seats each looking out their respective windows.

“What’s your dream wedding?”

Malcolm’s question caught her off guard. She’d been thinking about whether she’d made the bed that morning. Despite the lingering angst over the mystery woman, she hated making a bad first impression. Especially when his place had been so orderly. She’d dismissed the idea, reasoning that her place was simply lived in, not a mess, when she remembered her stockings hanging from the shower rod. Perhaps they could skip that room in the tour.