Awaken to Pleasure (13 page)

He reached out with one hand and shifted the paper so he could read the article. “Well, there’s nothing too objectionable in it.”

Nick had wandered off to get ready for school, so Taylor
indulged herself. “Did you notice it describes me as your
beautiful
new wife?” She peered over her shoulder, taking the same light tone as him. Surely he would’ve said something if the picture had revealed what she’d thought it had. Disappointment hit her hard, shocking her with the strength of her desire for his love.

Smoldering dark eyes met hers as he turned her around. “Just as well he doesn’t know of your temper.”

She made a face at him and got herself thoroughly kissed for her trouble, his hands slipping under her thick terry-cloth robe to touch skin.

“I have a meeting,” he rasped against her lips. A minute later, “Maybe, I can postpone it.” He nuzzled her.

“Hush.” Her body was already itchy for him and he was only making it worse. “Do you want coffee?”

He grinned. “I want you.” He reached up to cup her breasts, teasing the tips with the pads of his fingers.

She swallowed at the gleam in his eye and tried to concentrate on his mouth rather than his clever hands. But, looking at his lips only made her want to haul him down to her for a scorching kiss. He removed his hands from her robe just when she was about to start whimpering.

“Coffee!” She shoved a cup into his hands to stop him from doing further mischief.

After breakfast, Taylor waved off her men and spent the majority of the day on the final organization for the dinner party. That accomplished, she got on the phone with her network of secretaries and other administration staff, inviting them to a very different kind of party.

“A party at Jackson Santorini’s?” one of them whispered, “Are you sure he’ll want the riffraff around?”

She rolled her eyes. “He married one of us, you dolt.”

“Yeah, but you were always classier than average. I’ll be at your barbecue with bells on. See you in a week.”

“Bye, Tina.”

After hanging up, a hint of disquiet infiltrated her mind. She’d thought she had carte blanche with Jackson’s home but maybe he
would
mind. Nothing in their bargain said that she had the rights an indulged and loved wife would have. Feeling uneasy for the first time, she rang him.

“Cara?”

That warm tone put her at ease. “Jackson, I’m inviting several of my friends, including studio people, to a barbecue, a few days after the dinner party.” There was no response. “Is that all right?”

“They are your friends?”

She wondered at the odd note in his voice. “Yes.”

“Then they are welcome in our home.” He sighed. “The secretaries aren’t going to lynch me are they?”

So, that was the problem, she thought in relief. “No, I’ll protect you.”

“Don’t ever stop,
piccola
.” The request was quiet but her heart thundered. Had she imagined the incredible tenderness in that deep voice?

“I won’t,” she promised. “Have you heard from Lance?”

“Nothing definite but it looks like he’s withdrawing his pleadings. If anything happens, I’ll let you know.”

After they hung up, she spent a long time wondering at the indefinable vulnerability she’d heard in his tone.

Jackson sat at his desk wrestling with a strange mix of emotions. Part of it was an irrational jealousy that these people had Taylor’s affection and friendship, without paying for it. He’d made the decision to bargain for her and he’d made a very good bargain. She was a protective, affectionate and sexy wife. It was his problem that he’d been hoping for
something more, something that had eluded his family forever, something he’d never touched.

What would his wife say if she realized that big, tough Jackson Santorini would lay his heart at her feet, if she would only give her trust and love into his keeping? If she would only let him banish the shadows in her eyes that told him she still expected him to walk away from her.

He snorted, crushing the starving creature inside him. His wife was far too practical to think about love in relation to their marriage. All her love was bound up with her brother, and she’d told him point-blank that she didn’t trust anyone else enough to love them. Other men might have begrudged Nick her affection, but Jackson couldn’t, not when he’d been a child whom no one had loved. He wouldn’t wish that utter loneliness on anyone.

Until he’d met Taylor, he’d thought that love between a man and a woman was a fool’s dream. Maybe, despite his recent resolution to make her feel the passion he did, he’d been right all along. Look at his parents and siblings. They fell in love every other month and all they got for their trouble were divorces littering the world.

He
had a family filled with joy, and he had to concentrate on nurturing it rather than trying to get his wife to give him something she wasn’t capable of. Nick’s loyalty was his without question, but he needed to fully bind Taylor to him. She’d never divorce him if a child was involved, so he had to make her pregnant as soon as possible. His desire for a baby now came second to his desire to keep Taylor. There was no way in hell he could lose her. He would never survive the loss.

Late that night, Taylor sat at her vanity, her back to Jackson. He was stretched out on the bed, dressed only in his boxers, watching her prepare for bed. Arms folded behind his
head, he looked every inch the proprietary male. Though she was wearing an ankle-length silk nightgown, his hot gaze made her feel as if she were in the sheerest slip.

“What are you thinking so hard?” she asked, meeting his intense gaze in the mirror.

“Lance has completely withdrawn his proceedings. It was confirmed at 5:00 p.m. I’ve also managed to convince him of the wisdom of consenting to Nick’s adoption.” He lifted a cynical brow. “Money talks very loudly to Lance Hegerty.”

Joy made her giddy. “Oh, Jackson! Thank you!”

She put her brush down and turned to face him, intending to run into his arms. But, when she looked at him, she was startled to see that his expression had become even more intense. “What is it?” For something to do, she started plaiting her hair, uncertain how to handle her husband when he looked so unapproachable.

“There aren’t any more worries.” His eyes went darker than she would’ve believed possible. “I don’t want you going on birth control.”

She froze. “I…why can’t we wait?” Just today, she’d put a note in her diary to contact the doctor.

“I’m not going to force you into it. What would be the point?” He sounded calm but she could almost see his tension in the taut muscles of his upper arms. “But, tell me one thing—do you
ever
want to have my child?”

“I…I haven’t really had a chance to think about it,” she lied, panicked.

If she had Jackson’s baby, she would become ultimately vulnerable to him, connected in a way that would make escape impossible. Her powerful, possessive husband would
never
give up the right to watch his child grow day by day, and neither would she. Even worse, the experience of creating a life would bind their emotions together with such
strength that she wouldn’t be able to fight falling in love with him. And loving a man terrified her.

“When do you want to have a child?”

“Soon.” Jackson’s Italian-dark eyes met hers. “The child will have a trust fund, too. Have a think about it.”

“I…I will.” Stomach in knots, she walked out of the bedroom and into the ensuite bathroom, where she began washing her face. She should have picked something harder. The simple act gave her too much time to think.

A baby.

It had been part of their bargain. He had a right to expect it after he’d delivered his side of their agreement, yet he wasn’t pressuring her. Of course, there was a time limit on his patience. And if he saw that she had no intention of trying to get pregnant, would he dissolve their marriage before the year was up? She clenched her fists on the edge of the sink, unable to bear the thought.

But, a baby?

Years ago, she hadn’t even allowed herself to dream of it when she’d realized what it meant. Reliance. Complete and utter trust in a man. Desolation and anguish if that trust was betrayed. Her hands shook as she dried her face. She’d never trusted any man enough to chance that kind of pain. Could she trust Jackson? He understood her need for a safety net—he’d offered their child a trust fund.

A bribe.

It hit her with the force of a roundhouse punch to the jaw. She sat down on the small stool by the handbasin, face white. Her husband was trying to bribe her for a baby. Just like he’d bribed her to be his wife. That time, the bribe had been Nick’s safety. This time, it was security for the child they would create between them.

He’d bribed her into going to that party in Fiji, and though the gift of seductive lingerie had come after the lovemaking,
he’d bribed her for sex, too. Maybe that’s not how he’d consciously thought of it, but the pattern of behavior was becoming clear. Today, an exquisite diamond necklace had been delivered to her from an exclusive jeweler—a present for the dinner party.

Suddenly, she understood the depth of hurts her silent husband carried. Jackson didn’t expect anyone to give him a gift without a price attached, or care for him without being paid, without compensation. She’d been so selfish and he’d let her, not expecting anything more. His childhood had been spent with people who demanded recompense for the slightest expression of care—baby-sitters, nannies and boarding schools. Tears pricked at her eyes. Stupid man. How dare he do this to her?

Taking deep breaths, she began to think, remembering her earlier thoughts of courage and cowardice. Yes, she would be incredibly vulnerable if she had Jackson’s baby, but, he was the only man with whom she could even consider such an act of trust. What was the alternative? Never to know the joy of nurturing a child in her womb, never to hold a little human being who was part of her, never to give Nick the happiness of playing the role of a big brother, and more importantly, never to give her husband the baby he needed to erase the pain of Bonnie’s selfish choice.

Despite his own concerns, she knew that he wouldn’t cheat on her. He’d been faithful to Bonnie and he’d had all the reason in the world to take a lover. He would never abuse her, having too much self-control. And, if the worst happened and they separated, he had too much honor to leave her to survive on her own.

She frowned. If their marriage didn’t last, they’d both be to blame. But, she had no intention of ever giving up the hope she’d found in his arms. A small light flared inside her heart. Jackson, too, wanted a lifetime commitment, unlike the rest
of his family. He would stick by her, unless she gave him a reason to leave. And she would never give him such a reason.

Jackson Santorini belonged to her.

J
ackson lay there in the semidarkness of the bedroom, having dimmed the light after Taylor slipped away. The woman he’d shown such tenderness and care was hiding from him…as if he was the monster Bonnie had accused him of being. Pain threatened to rip apart his heart.

Their bargain had been clear. A child within a year or they would separate. But he would never let her go. Even if it meant accepting that he would never father a child, because the awful truth was, his wife didn’t want to give him that gift. He had no right to berate her but damn it, he wanted to. He adored her, would cherish their child as he cherished Nick, but it was apparent that she didn’t feel the hunger he did to create another soul out of their feelings for each other.

In the dark, he knew his smile was cynical. As far as Taylor was concerned, they had nothing more than a bargain. Unfortunately for her, he was too much like his grandfather
Josef. He’d made his choice, and his heart was too passionate to accept anything less than everything from his wife. He would fight for Taylor until she had no choice but to trust him. Santorini men could be adoring husbands but they could also be merciless hunters.

The door to the bathroom opened. He blinked and pushed his pain and resolve to the background. It did no good to let anyone see your vulnerabilities. He’d made that mistake with Bonnie and she’d used the knowledge to rip him to tiny pieces, before he’d stopped letting her matter.

Taylor came to sit beside him on the bed, placing one hand on his bare chest. “I have to tell you something.”

“I know,” he began, wanting the pain over with as quickly as possible.

“Please listen.” In the soft light, her face looked so young that his heart clenched.

He lifted a hand and touched her cheek, unable to stop the action. This small woman could hurt him far more than Bonnie ever had. “Tell me,
piccola.
”

She held his hand when it dropped, clasping it between both of hers. “I’m afraid to have a child. Not physically afraid. Afraid of the vulnerability it creates.”

“Because of your mother.” He understood at once.

She nodded. “I’ve been afraid for so long—I can’t forget what her life ended up like, all because she trusted a man with her body and her heart. I can’t forget. I just can’t and the fear is so strong, sometimes it chokes me.”

He was pulled in two directions. Protecting Taylor and protecting his dreams. There was only one real choice and he made it with brutal swiftness. “It is all right,
cara.
We have Nick.” She’d already given him a son to teach and love. It would have to be enough.

She shook her head, tears glimmering in her eyes. “No, it’s not all right! I don’t like being afraid, Jackson. I hate that
feeling of being strangled. I am
not
Helena and you’re not Lance. We’re stronger than them.”

“Yes.” He was astonished by her ability to see the truth through her pain. Her strength of will had never been clearer, so her next question humbled him.

“You taught me to make love without fear. Will you teach me to have a child without fear?”

He was so stunned that he couldn’t speak for a long time. “How do I do that, little one?”

“By holding me, by being there whenever I need you, by never leaving me to flounder, by being there, just being there.” Her hand was clenched around his.

Opening his arms, Jackson invited her in. When she came, he snuggled her face-to-face. His heart was painfully tight in his chest. “I’ll always be there,
cara.
Always.”

“Don’t ever leave me or our children, Jackson.” A single tear trailed down her face. She dashed it away.

For the first time he understood the depth of pain that she’d suffered at being abandoned, not only by her biological father, but also by the man who’d married her mother. His little wife had experienced as much loneliness as the rich boy sent to boarding school at age five.

“On my family’s name, I promise you, Taylor Santorini, that as long as I draw breath, I will never leave you or our children. Remember who I am,
piccola
—an incredibly possessive tyrant where you are concerned.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “I believe that.”

He wiped away her tears, awed by the evidence of her trust in him. When he’d believed that she was rejecting having his child, he hadn’t understood the courage it would take for his wife to fight the lessons of the past and take that step. And yet she was, for him.
For him.

“Hold me, Jackson. Hold me,” she whispered, allowing him to see a need whose potency he’d barely suspected.

He held her all night and kissed her when she turned to him, warming her with his constant presence. He would never leave her to sink or swim. Never.

Taylor didn’t think of herself as a needy woman, but she needed Jackson. The wonderful thing was, he was always there. Like now. He hugged her before their dinner party, three days after she’d agreed to have his child.

“You look ravishing, Mrs. Santorini,” he said, planting kisses on her neck. “Do you think our guests will notice if we’re late?” Hands moved possessively over her body.

She laughed. “You’re looking far too gorgeous, yourself. Make sure the blondes don’t touch you.” She was only half joking. Around him, she felt positively feral.

His amusement at her possessiveness was overlaid with a hint of approval. “Cross my heart.” A glint of mischief lightened his dark eyes.

“What?”

“I want to thank you for last night,
bellissima.
Your mouth is so…”

She clapped her hand over his mouth. “Behave!” Her attempt to sound stern failed miserably, memories of their loving turning her tone husky. She hadn’t yet conquered all her fears, but each night, she became stronger. Strong enough for the man she’d married. “You’re a menace.” He smiled knowingly against her hand, and licked her palm with his tongue. Giggling, she pulled away. “Jackson!”

“Nick was raring to go when I dropped him off tonight. I think he considers spending the weekend at his friend’s house more exciting than hanging around with us.”

“I think you’re much more fun.” She rubbed her body against his in deliberate provocation. Having the power to arouse her sexy husband was an addictive feeling.

Jackson kissed her, his eyes gleaming with a masculine
warning that told her she’d have to pay for her teasing. “Let’s go, Mrs. Santorini. I suppose we have to show up at our own dinner party.”

Wanting to create an intimate atmosphere, Taylor had had the dinner party catered but limited the number of serving staff to two. The neatly dressed men had arrived an hour previously and were now standing in readiness for the arrival of the guests. Prior to dinner, one would tend the small bar set up in a corner of the living room, while his partner was to circulate with the hors d’oeuvres.

“Thank you. Everything looks lovely,” Taylor said to them both, after sampling one of their offerings. “Your firm has surpassed my expectations.”

They beamed.

Just then the doorbell chimed and Jackson’s voice sounded in her ear. “Showtime.”

Linking her arm with his, she took a deep breath and let him lead her to the door. Their security firm was controlling entry onto the property, so once the guests passed through the gates, they were able to drive right up to the house. When that door opened, some very powerful people were going to walk into her house.

Jackson paused in front of the door and turned to say very quietly, “Together.”

Startled out of her nervousness, she glanced at him, only then realizing that this had to be hard for him, too. Some of these wary people had once been close friends. A slow smile bloomed in Taylor’s heart as she understood that he’d let her know that deliberately, welcoming her support to negotiate what could be a difficult evening and offering her his.

Sliding her hand down his arm, she entangled the fingers of her right hand with those of his left. “Together.”

At first, the guests were on their guard, watching her as
if they expected Bonnie’s ghost to possess her. But she noticed that they relaxed within minutes, warming in the glow of her husband’s attention. Always charismatic, today, with a smile flirting with his lips, he was devastating.

“I’ve never seen him smile, I swear,” Temple Givens, one of the hottest scriptwriters around, said. “Have you given him some happy pills?” She laughed and took a sip of an award-winning chardonnay produced in Gisborne.

Taylor liked the slender redhead and since Temple had already invited her to lunch in a few days’ time, she knew the feeling was mutual. “He doesn’t need them. Teasing me is enough.” She was aware that Jackson, standing a foot away, could hear her.

He turned from his conversation to throw her a grin. “What drug could compare to you, Mrs. Santorini?”

Temple gasped, the other guests laughed, and that set the mood for the party. People seemed fascinated by their relationship. She just shrugged and acted like herself. This was her home, no matter who these big shots were. The fact that they were invited to several events by their departing guests was a sure sign that she’d done well.

“A roaring success, sweet little wife,” Jackson whispered in her ear, as they got ready for bed. He’d undressed at the speed of light and come to hold her around her middle, chest to her back and chin on her shoulder. He often took that position and she loved the tiny intimacy. Just like she loved everything with Jackson. Already nervy because of her decision to try and conceive, she was unwilling to consider what that meant. Instead, she concentrated on the physical fire he could arouse in her.

“Thank you, honey.” She smiled in delight. “I think we’re going to be hot together.”

He cuddled her closer. “
Cara,
we burn up together.” And then he proceeded to ignite the passion between them.

The next day, she received several thank-you calls regarding the dinner party. Gifts started arriving, too—belated wedding presents.

“We made some friends,” she told Jackson that night. Clad only in a pair of black sports shorts with stripes of white on the sides, he was prowling around their bedroom, while she sat in bed. Needless to say, with her husband’s body on display, the book in her hand was going unread.

“It’s all your doing.” He bowed to her like some old-world courtier. “You are so lovely, they couldn’t resist your charm,
mia moglie e bellissima.
”

She threw a pillow at him. “I’m already your wife, you big Italian stud. You don’t need to seduce me.” Her susceptibility to him should’ve worried her but she reveled in the intensity of their passion. In her ability to match him. Each time they made love, he lost a little more control and she conquered another piece of fear.

Catching the pillow, he grinned. The naughty light in his eyes warned her that he had something up his sleeve. “In that case, I’m going to do weights.”

Taylor’s head jerked up. Against her short and barely decent white nightie, her nipples peaked.

He chucked the pillow back onto the bed, saying, “You can watch,” before he left the room.

She swallowed.

To Jackson’s surprise, Taylor didn’t come after him. Maybe, he thought, she was getting over her delight in his body. Scowling, he began to exercise. Some time later, he heard the door to the workout room being shut. Turning, he found Taylor sitting on the last step leading down into the converted basement, a jug of ice water beside her and a full glass in her hand.

His whole body went taut. “Is that for me?” he said, watching her roll the glass against her cheek.

“No. It’s all for me. Now, exercise.”

He’d never performed like this for any woman. But, then again, no woman had ever needed to cool herself down in his presence. Damn, but he enjoyed her reaction to him. Pleased with his little wife, he indulged her, doing arm curls with weights that made his biceps bulge.

Taylor moaned.

“Want to come over?” he invited.

She shook her head and lifted the glass to her lips. Her short nightie rode up as she spread her thighs without noticing. After draining the glass, she said, “Will you do some push-ups?”

“For you,
bellissima,
anything.” He put down the weights and with his body right in front of her, began to do as she’d asked, keeping his spine and legs in perfect alignment. He wondered if he could persuade her to kiss him all over, as she’d done last night. Though he’d never admit it, he had a weakness for the gentleness of his wife’s caresses. After fifty repetitions, he got up. “Enough?”

“Not hardly.” She’d opened all three buttons at the top of her nightie and one hand rested in the opening. “But I think I’m getting heatstroke.”

He walked over to the bottom of the steps. “Maybe we should start slow. We can work up to chin-ups,” he teased.

She put down the glass and stood up, blue eyes hazy with passion. Her small hands ran up his chest in a gesture that was as proprietary as it was adoring. “Maybe I could…assist you to work out.”