A Winter Sabbatical (Books We Love holiday romance) (13 page)

She was chilled to the bone, and so was
Travis. Still, that hadn’t stopped him becoming unabashedly aroused.

She’d watched him discard his wet clothes,
watched the water drip from his dark hair. His muscles rippled as he’d thrown
his clothes to the floor. Something deep inside her responded.

Their eyes locked; she licked her lips. The
flames roared; she stood glued to the spot. Thunder clapped and Marissa yelped.

Travis threw her a towel, then dragged
Marissa to the bathroom for a shower.

***

The water was hot, almost burning her skin
at first, but once she’d warmed a little, it wasn’t so bad.

She let the water roll down over her body,
hitting her face, saturating her hair.

They stood together, hands entwined. Travis
leaned down to her level, and they stood with their foreheads together.

The room steamed up.

“You forgot the fan, again.” She brought
her hand up to his cheek.

Travis stood to his full height and looked
down into her eyes. Their gazes locked.

He ran his hands down her arms. She moved
closer. His hands came up her back. Her hands rested on his buttocks. Still
their eyes remained locked.

Marissa tried to wrench her eyes away. She
couldn’t do it, she was mesmerized, hypnotized. Spellbound.

“Marissa,” His voice was soft, husky, sexy,
and she felt compelled to look at his lips. They were calling to her, wanting
her to kiss him, urging her to kiss him.

Marissa came up on her toes and leaned into
him, into his warmth, his strength, and kissed him.

His lips were warm, soft, gentle. She
pushed her tongue into his mouth. He tasted sweet, nice, wonderful.

Her hands slid up from his buttocks to his
shoulders, then she stretched up to run her fingers through his hair, and
Travis leaned into her as Marissa came back down to her normal height.

The warmth of the water trickled down their
faces, like a creek tripping over pebbles; clinging to their lashes, their
hair, their lips.

Marissa felt its sensuality as it rolled
over her body, her shoulders, her breasts, and felt the reaction it had on
Travis.

 
She
opened her eyes, looked into his. Travis moved closer, Marissa almost lost her
balance and stepped back. Travis cornered her against the sides of the shower,
his hands either side of her, pinning her there, their lips still entwined.

He reached out and turned off the taps, and
as the steam cleared, Marissa had no doubt as to the extent of his desire.

***

The next few days seemed to go by in a
rush.

Elizabeth arrived on Marissa’s doorstep
unannounced. She was caught on the hop, and didn’t know what to do.

“This is Jenny.” Elizabeth waved a hand in
the other woman’s direction. “She’s going to design your wedding dress.”

“There must some mistake. I—we—” Marissa
began, confused. When was this arranged?

“No mistake. Come on, Jenny.” She brushed
past Marissa, pushing her way through the door, leaving Marissa with no doubt
that this woman would move heaven and hell to get what she wanted, precisely
when she wanted it.

Marissa shivered as she stood in her
underwear on the kitchen table. Marissa felt self-conscious standing around
almost naked in front of these strangers, but they didn’t seem to care.

The rain tapped against the window, and
despite the heating, Marissa shivered, her arms covered in goose bumps. She was
not entirely sure how she got up there, or how she let herself be bullied.

She’d been measured around her waist, down
her arm and across her back. Not to mention every other imaginable, and
unimaginable place possible.

Too bad that she was right in the middle of
a crucial scene in her novel before they’d arrived. Elizabeth didn’t seem to give
a hoot that she’d disrupted Marissa’s whole schedule.

What did the woman think she did – sit
around watching television all day?

The doorbell rang. Even Marissa heard
herself sigh.

“Don’t move!” Marissa didn’t dare defy the
woman who was soon to be her mother-in-law.

“Really, mother!” It was Travis’ voice.
Thank God, he’d come to save her. “Didn’t we tell you we don’t want a big
wedding?” His eyes were apologetic as he raised his eyebrows, and Marissa began
to feel sorry for
him
, when really,
she
was the victim. Travis reached out
to her, and Marissa climbed down from the table.

As she pulled on the last of her clothes,
the doorbell rang again. “What now?” Marissa screeched, almost at the end of
her tether.

Elizabeth hurried toward the door. “That,”
she said, as she floated toward the front door, “will be the wedding planner.”

“Hell, Elizabeth,” Travis said, addressing
his mother by her Christian name, as he always did when he was mad at her.
“We’re living in Maldon, not Manhattan!”

“A wedding planner?” Marissa repeated,
mystified as to how her life had suddenly been turned upside down by one
person.

Travis pulled Marissa close, and rubbed his
hands across her back. “I’ll sort it out, don’t you worry.”

Elizabeth swept past them both, swinging
her skirt with her hands as she hurried to the front door.

“Jean-Pierre, how wonderful to see you
again!” Travis grimaced at her plastic smile.

The newcomer took a little bow. “Madam
Johnston! How beautiful you look today.” Jean-Pierre leaned forward and kissed
her hand.

“Oh please!” Travis was getting
really
cross now. How could Elizabeth do
this to them? More particularly, how could she do it to Marissa?

Jean-Pierre rushed over to Marissa, taking
her hand and kissing it. “And this must be the blushing bride,” he said. In his
false French accent, Travis decided.

Marissa glanced across at Travis. “I—er,”

Things had gotten way out of hand.

Travis moved close to the ‘wedding planner’
his mother so
generously
organized,
and motioned to the sofa. “You, sit,” he commanded, as calmly as possible. “And
you too, er, Jenny.”

Elizabeth went pale. “Travis, darling!”

“You, Elizabeth,” he motioned toward the
kitchen. “In there. We have to talk.”

He took Marissa by the hand, as they headed
for the kitchen.
God give me strength
,
he silently prayed. ‘
Cause I’m sure as
hell gonna need it!

Chapter Eight

Marissa gripped Travis’ hand under the
table.

Damn his mother – damn her a million times
over. Why did she have to meddle? Again.

He thought this wedding business had all
been sorted out.

“...flowers. Travis, darling,” It was his
mother’s voice, irritating him, grating on him. “You could at least
try
to look like you’re interested.”

Travis flung his chair back noisily and
strode over to the window, his back to the two women he loved most in the
world.

He clasped his hands behind his head.
One, two, three...

“It cost a fortune, darling,” Elizabeth’s
voice again. “But I cancelled Jean-Pierre. And what thanks do I get?”

He moved his hands to behind his back, as
Travis continued to fight for control of his temper. It was
their
wedding after all.

He was startled when Marissa’s hand came up
around his shoulders. Travis brought his hand around, covering hers, then
turned to face his mother.

She sat at the antique table –
his
antique table – sipping
his
tea and nibbling on cucumber
sandwiches. Appropriate for a lady of her standing, he thought facetiously.

It wasn’t as though he hated her; it was
just that Elizabeth annoyed the hell out of him when she interfered. Marissa
was just starting to settle, starting to be open and honest with him, and
now...

Travis opened his mouth to speak when
Elizabeth threw down her serviette and swept up her handbag in one agile
movement. “If you’re going to behave like a spoilt child, then I’m going home.”

Travis knew his mouth was open, but had no
compulsion to close it.
Deep breath and
count to ten.

“Thank you
so much
for coming,” he called, as Elizabeth disappeared in a
flurry through the front door.

Travis turned back to the window as Marissa
sank down into the leather lounge chair and tried to suppress a giggle. Tried,
but didn’t quite make it.

She didn’t care about the wedding. The most
important thing to her was that they actually
got
married. A celebrant in a registry office would suffice as far
as Marissa was concerned. She didn’t even care if they were married in their
swimming gear, or for that matter, wearing nothing at all.

Somehow she didn’t think Elizabeth would
feel the same.

Marissa felt restless and began to pace the
room. She hovered near the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She fingered the
papers abandoned by Travis’ mother only moments before.

“Tell you what? That my family are nuts, or
better yet, pushy?”

“That you were loaded.” The flames of the
fire roared not far away, but Marissa shivered as a chill overtook her.

“Loaded? Not likely.” He laughed, but
Marissa wasn’t convinced and turned her attention to the papers again. She
picked up one of the sample invitations littering the table top.

“Best quality paper money can buy. Each one
to be individually written in calligraphy.” She looked straight through Travis
when he said nothing. “How many hundred guests did Elizabeth say were on the
list?”

Marissa raised her eyebrows, but Travis
just turned away and stared out over the valley. The cracking of his knuckles
rankled her.

Marissa tried to massage away the thumping
in her head. “Please, Travis – don’t lie to me. I want the truth.” She
continued to rub at her temples with her fingertips, to no avail. “I need the
truth, Travis. Pure, unadulterated, truth.”

“Truth is,” His back was still to her – why
wouldn’t he look at her? “I dabble in investments.”

“So you told me before.” Her voice was
cold, icy. Even Marissa heard it, but she was angry, and she didn’t care if I
knew.

“Marissa...” He turned, pleading to her
with his eyes.

She interrupted him mid-sentence. “I want
to go home.” Marissa had made up her mind, whether he liked it or not.

“Don’t you think we should discuss this
first?”

She slipped his engagement ring off her
finger and let it drop noisily on the table.

***

Travis felt as though he’d been kicked in
the chest.

“What the hell’s going on?” As he stepped
toward her, Marissa stepped back, lifting her hands defensively.

“You tell me.”

This wasn’t about the wedding – it couldn’t
be, surely.

“Meeeooooooow.” Jonah rubbed his neck
against Travis’ leg.

“Not now, Jonah.”

Marissa glared at him, then moved forward
and picked the cat up.
Well, at least she
was closer
.

As Marissa stroked his head, Jonah’s
purring became louder and louder. Marissa went outside and sat on the steps,
still holding Jonah.

Travis followed.

“Beautiful day.”
Corny, Johnston. Very corny.

Marissa looked sideways at him. “Is it?”

Travis sat down on the steps next to her
and draped his arm around Marissa’s shoulders. She shrugged it away.

“Perhaps not.” He was restless, couldn’t
sit still. Travis stood, then walked the length of the veranda. Endless pacing,
waste of time, waste of energy. “Marissa,” He stopped pacing to think. What
could he say, after all?
You were right –
I am loaded.
Hell, she was mad enough at him already.

He looked down at her, and noticed Marissa
staring. Travis straightened his shoulders.
Be
a man. Tell her, get it over with.

He cleared his throat. “Okay – you were
right.”
See? That wasn’t so bad.

“I was right, it isn’t a beautiful day, or
I was right, you’re loaded?” She pursed her lips at him and Travis felt a
shudder roll through him.
Damn, she was
beautiful when she was angry.

“Both.” It came out almost as a squeak.
Travis cleared his throat again.

Marissa lifted Jonah from her lap and
placed him on the grass. Straightening her skirt as she stood, Marissa glared
at him again. “I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do – let me explain.
Over coffee?” She pursed her lips again. He seemed to be losing the battle.
“Please?” This time Marissa nodded.

When he said coffee, she thought he meant
coffee; like ‘let’s sit on the sofa and have a coffee’ coffee. But no, he
wanted a cappuccino, so they had to go
all
the way into Maldon to get a cappuccino. How could they talk with everyone
listening to the conversation?

Marissa contemplated him over the top of
her cup. Perhaps that was the idea. Maybe he thought she would just listen,
accept what he said and not question what he said, not argue? Huh! Fat chance.

“So you see, I have no choice. If I don’t
look after the investments, everyone loses out, not just...” His hand covered
hers, and Marissa shifted in her seat. “Marissa?”

“You should have told me in the beginning.”
It wasn’t that he
had
money that
upset her. It was more that he didn’t trust her enough to tell her. Wasn’t it?

“Right.” Travis sat upright in his seat,
throwing his shoulders back, then stood and faced Marissa. He shuffled until
his legs were bowlegged like a cowboy in a bad western. He tipped his imaginary
Stetson, and then cleared his throat. “Well, howdy Ma’am,” he drawled. “I’m
Rancher Johnston, and I’m filthy rich.”

Marissa laughed. He always made her laugh,
always made her happy. Wasn’t that the thing that attracted her to him in the
first place?

Travis returned to his chair. “It’s no
different to having a normal job really.”

“Huh?” Did she miss something?

“Investments. I work hard to make sure my
money, the family’s money, is secure.” He scrutinized her for what seemed
endless moments.

Marissa nodded, but couldn’t quite grasp
his meaning.

“If I didn’t do this, there would be no
money.” Marissa snorted. Who was he trying to kid? “All right – there would be,
but we have to think about future generations as well.”

Travis reached across the table. His hand
was warm, comforting. His one hand equaled almost two of Marissa’s and she felt
unreasonably dwarfed.

It hadn’t bothered her before, why did it
now? Because Elizabeth had called her
Travis’
little girlfriend
. She wasn’t anyone’s
little
anything. In fact, she wasn’t little.

Just because she happened to be the
smallest in her family, and maybe Travis’ too, didn’t automatically make her
little.

Marissa was startled when Travis put his
fingers to her pouting lips.

“Okay, what’s the problem now?” She heard
his long drawn out sigh, and joined him.

“Am I small? Because your mother—”

“...wears stilettos to make herself tall.
And has facelifts to make herself young.” Travis grinned and the tension eased
in her shoulders.

He reached into his pocket. “Marissa,” He held
her shaking hand and slid Marissa’s discarded ring onto her finger. “Will you
marry me?”

***

Marissa was still trying to catch her
breath.

Travis had given her one day’s notice.
One day’s notice!
She looked out at the
clouds below them, and caught glimpses of the ocean as the sunlight bounced off
its peaks.

Was it really only a few hours ago that
they had stood in a queue at the airport?

Don’t worry about clothes, Travis had said.
We’ll buy some when we get there.
Buy
some when we get there? Enough for a whole month? Holy heck! How much money did
he have?

Consequently, Marissa had left Australia
with only a small suitcase.

Her biggest concern was the cats. What
would happen to Jonah and Ceefor? But Travis organized for his sister to move
into his place, along with Ceefor.

As far as Travis was concerned, there was
nothing else to organise except getting themselves to the airport on time –
which they did. Just.

It had been ages since Marissa had been to
Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne, and it had changed so much she wouldn’t have
a hope of finding her way around.

Thank goodness Travis was there! She would
have gotten lost for sure, amongst all the hustle and bustle of businessmen and
women on their way to Sydney and Brisbane, and children running about, and
holidaymakers on their way to exotic locations around the world.

She was spilling over with anticipation of
the weeks ahead.

Travis brushed his finger against her
cheek, startling Marissa. “Everything okay?”

Okay? Everything was fantastic. Life was incredible,
and Travis was... amazing.

Marissa smiled, nodded. Travis lifted her
hand to his lips. They were warm, inviting. She stared at his mouth. She wanted
to kiss him, longed to kiss him. Short of making a spectacle of herself right
there on the plane, she would have to wait until they arrived.

She leaned across the seat, reaching her
arms around his neck, and pulled Travis toward her. Marissa gently brushed her
lips against his, and felt him smile against her face.

She heard the click of his seat belt, and
his arms came up around her back. And
she
was worried about making a scene?

“Er, excuse me?” The hostess hovered above
them – her expression one of apology. “Wine, champagne, soft drink?”

“Uh, champagne, thanks.” Travis sat back
into his seat.

Marissa touched her hands to her cheeks.
She could feel the color creeping up her face. Travis glanced at her and
laughed.

“It isn’t funny,” she whispered.

“Yes it is,” he laughed, and clinked their
glasses together. “To love, happiness and a long future together.”

***

Marissa stood next to Travis on the cliff,
her long hair braided with jasmine. The wind loosened some strands, blowing
them across her face. Travis removed them with his fingers.

The sky was lit up with an array of colors,
but as Marissa looked back over her shoulder, the brilliant orange of the sun
stood out the most.

The evening was warm, and her ankle length
dress flapped about in the light breeze, the ribbons holding the lacy bodice
threatening to come undone.

Travis stood next to her, his hair neatly
trimmed, his square jaw freshly shaved. She leaned into him and breathed in his
masculine after-shave, savoring it for as long as she could.

Marissa stepped back, looking up into his
face. He looked wonderful, sexy, and particularly attractive. He wore the
finest of clothes. His favorite old threadbare jeans were packed away, out of
sight, and the ever-creasing overshirt that Travis loved so much was today
forgotten.