Not Even for Love (19 page)

Married! The word bounced off the walls of the minuscule kitchen and fairly screamed through her head. He had totally dismantled her arsenal of self-defense. She sagged weakly against the kitchen counter and watched him with disbelieving eyes. He picked up the gooey sandwich, inspected it, decided it wasn’t ruined after all, folded it over once, and took a huge bite out of it.

“You’re crazy,” she said. “What do you mean by ‘married’?”

“You know,” he mumbled around the bread and peanut butter. “ ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here,’ etcetera, etcetera. Flowers. Candles. Weepy mothers. Married.”

“But—”

“You aren’t still engaged to Helmut, are you?”

She could only shake her head dumbly.

“I didn’t think so. I was walking down the Champs Elysées yesterday and nearly stumbled into a kiosk. Recently I’ve been drinking quite a bit, you see, and have developed a wavering gait,” he added in a confidential tone. “Anyway, there was this scandal sheet with Helmut’s picture on the front page. His arm was around the waist of an Italian contessa whose financial assets receive almost as much acclaim as her physical endowments. I invested a few francs and bought the rag. After five cups of scalding black coffee and an icy cold shower, when I was sure I was sober, I read the story. It seems that Helmut and the contessa are going hot and heavy all over Europe. So I figured that you were free to marry me. I think we’ll wait till we get back to the States to tie the knot. I know your parents and my mother—”

“Reeves!” she cried. When his running chatter finally wound down she said calmly, “You can’t just come in here and announce that we’re getting married.”

“Why not? We love each other, don’t we?” Then he smacked his forehead with his palm. “Of course! You prefer me to ask you. Okay.” He shrugged. “Will you marry me, Jordan? I’m easy to live with. I’ve got all my teeth and I don’t need root-canal work. I’m strong of body. Fairly sound of mind. I’ve stopped smoking—twice. I drink only in moderation—the past few weeks don’t count. I shower at least once a day. I have a charming personality. I’m devastatingly handsome and—”

“Humble.”

He nodded in solemn affirmation. “And humble.”

That was her undoing. She began to laugh. He was beside her in one giant step. His arms went around her, entrapping her against his chest. Her hair became tangled between his fingers as he pulled her head back so he could look down into her face. His amusing mien had disappeared, to be replaced by an earnest frown of anxiety.

“Does that mean yes?” he asked.

She didn’t think of her unhappy marriage to Charles. She didn’t think of her determination to live independently. Her only consideration was that Reeves had come back into her life. After these miserable weeks of living without him, she wasn’t about to let him leave again. “How could I possibly refuse such a romantic proposal?”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.” His eyes ravished her face, touching each feature with scorching green eyes. “I’ve been in hell, Jordan. That night I groped my way to your door through that thunderstorm, I never really thought of being struck by lightning. But I was the moment I saw you. I never counted on falling in love, but when I did it jarred me all the way up to my brain. I’ve got to have you in my life.” His mouth hovered a mere fraction over hers. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Her lips were parted by the urgency of his. His tongue touched hers with that rare familiarity that had stunned them since their first shared kiss. She felt utterly helpless under its tender quest and surrendered to the mastery of his mouth. The desire that she had kept banked for the past few weeks flared to life with this merest fanning of the embers.

Her mouth matched the passion of his, and she delighted him by moving closer and reminding him of the interlocking way their bodies fit together. He responded with a gentle thrust of his hips.

Pulling away from her after long minutes of ravenous kissing, he cradled her head in his palms and looked deep into her eyes. “Jordan, why did you run to Helmut when he met us coming down the mountain?” His soft voice only intensified the magnitude of the question and his need to hear her answer.

“I couldn’t let you see how much I loved you, Reeves. You had just said that you were leaving, going to Paris. I thought you were making a clean break and didn’t want me to read any lasting significance into what had happened between us.”

“I asked you if you knew what you meant to me. You said you did.”

“I thought I had been a pleasant pastime, that you were leaving me with no strings attached.”

“You goose,” he chided. “If you’ll recall, it wasn’t a very opportune time or place for me to tell you that I wanted to be with you forever. As soon as I had seen to my business in Paris, I intended to come back for you. I hoped you would infer that. Instead, the next thing I knew you were tearing down the hillside toward Helmut and accepting that damned diamond ring that I had come to loathe.”

“Oh, Reeves. Next time don’t be so cryptic.”

“There’ll never be a next time. You’ve got to marry me now, Jordan,” he said insistently as he curved his hands under her hips and drew her to him.

“Why? Are you pregnant?”

He playfully jerked her head back by a fistful of hair. “No, but I’ll work very hard at getting you pregnant if that’ll guarantee your marrying me,” he warned. “As a matter of fact, I rather like that idea. Think of all the pictures I could take of you and the babies.”

“
Babies?
”

“Yes. You know—those tiny little humans who squall and squirm a lot.”

“I’m too old to start having babies,” she argued.

“Then we’d better get started,” he growled as he propelled her toward the bedroom.

“Do you have any reservations about marrying me?” he asked as his lips slowly nibbled the sensitive skin on the underside of her arm.

Their clothes were messily piled on top of half-packed crates and they were nestled in the covers of the bed they had shared once before.

Outside it was raining.

“I have a million reservations,” she murmured against his ribs. Her fingertips were traversing the length of his thigh. “But a wise man once told me not to let my common sense make every decision for me. Sometimes one has to take a gamble. I think you’re a reasonably good risk.”

He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “This wise man wouldn’t be named Helmut Eckherdt by any chance?”

“By chance he was.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled. “Leave it to him to take charge.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, I heard from him, too. I was furiously packing last night when he called my hotel room. He told me in no uncertain terms that I’d better get my ass in gear and marry you before someone much smarter than I did. When I told him I was on my way here to do just that, he said, ‘Good boy,’ and hung up.”

They laughed together softly. “He always did like to take matters into his own hands.”

“I like to take matters into my own hands, too,” Reeves said. Only it wasn’t “matters” that his hands closed over but the lush mounds of her breasts. She eased over onto her back and provided him with unrestricted freedom. He dipped his head and kissed the deep cleft between her breasts. “You’re distracting me,” he said.

Instinctively she arched against him and felt his arousal, hard and hot, against her. “From what?” she asked. Her hand found him and implored him to come nearer.

“From telling you about my new job.” His voice had an edge to it. “Forget it for now.” Instantly he was released and pushed away. He blinked rapidly. “Can’t you do what you were doing and listen at the same time?”

“No. Because you can’t talk if I keep doing what I was doing.”

“Not very articulately anyway. Damn. Well, I’ll hurry.” He lay his head on her breasts and said, “A publishing house in New York has been after me for years to compile a book, a pictorial essay of sorts, on the last decade, which would encompass most of my career. I went to Paris to meet with some of their top editors who were there for some book fair or some such. Anyway, to make a long story as short as I possibly can—I have
pressing
problems that need to be seen to—we negotiated a contract. How does that sound?”

“Reeves,” Jordan cried enthusiastically. She sat up, dislodging his head from its comfortable pillow. “That’s wonderful. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” he admitted abashedly. “It will mean a lot of money, but at the same time force me to evaluate how I feel about all the things I’ve seen, heard, and experienced these last years. Some of those experiences have been invaluable and I think they should be shared. Do you think two writers in one family is too absurd to contemplate?”

She ran her fingers lovingly through his mussed hair. “I think I could survive anything with you. The concept of the book is marvelous. I’ll help you all I can.”

“Good. I can’t spell worth a damn. Now that that’s out of the way …” He placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to push her back, but she remained upright.

“I’m not finished yet. Where will we live?”

He muttered a soft curse. “I haven’t really decided. Are you averse to the Washington, D.C., area? Virginia has some lovely spots.” Then, with exaggerated offhandedness, he added, “We have an extremely photogenic First Family. And year after next will be election time again.”

A worried frown creased her brow and darkened the blue rings around the gray irises. “Reeves, you’re not going to miss all the travel and excitement, are you?”

He clasped her to him. “No. With my experience and credentials, I’ll never be without a job, but the younger shooters can have the globe-hopping. I know how much you want stability and a home. I want that, too. I was serious when I said that I want to take pictures of you and the babies from now on.”

She didn’t resist this time when he drew her back onto the pillows. “And I was serious when I said I was too old.”

“Nonsense. Look at how fit you are.” His eyes were analyzing her body with lascivious pleasure. “Absolutely beautiful.” His lips followed his eyes. “One of these days I’m going to take the time to count your erogenous zones. It will no doubt take me hours. Lovely hours.”

Her breasts were given ardent attention and they responded in a way not disappointing to his lips. “Would you deny a baby the pleasure of feeding on these breasts?” he asked. His tongue brought her nipples to peaks of aching desire and indulged them with the gentle tugging of his mouth. She moaned at the warm, lubricating sensation.

His hands adored her as they descended slowly into that secret realm that nested the very essence of her womanhood. He found her ready and yearning for his touch. When his lips caught up to his hands and he kissed her there, she cried out with the unspeakable joy of loving and knowing she was loved.

“I love you, Jordan,” he vowed as he raised himself over her. Her thighs squeezed against the sinewy muscles of his legs as he settled himself between them. He joined his body to hers.

“Have I convinced you yet that you would be a perfect mother?”

“Convince me some more.”

His body stroked hers inside and out, and she rose to meet each seductive motion. His hand slid between their bodies and found her breast. “You have so much love to give, Jordan. Be generous. Have our baby.” He cupped her and rubbed her against his own hair-matted flesh.

“Reeves, you know I love you. Make me yours.”

“You are mine. Forever.” She held him tighter. An answering shudder streaked through his body. “Jordan, I’ll never have enough of you.”

At that moment her own passion sent her soaring out into the universe, but he was with her, holding her, sharing it. And when she felt the thrilling fire of his loins she knew he was right.

A love such as this deserved an heir.