Given (Give &Take) (3 page)

R
achael was quiet. Something was wrong. Only a half an hour earlier, we were joking and laughing, tiptoeing around discussing the Big M—marriage. I didn’t want to avoid it any longer. I was never one for treading lightly around anything—just the opposite. My reputation for charging into things like a rodeo bull preceded me. But she wasn’t ready for a proposal. No matter how perfect we were together, and no matter how confident I was that we’d end up at the end of that aisle someday soon, Rachael wasn’t ready to say yes to me down on one knee with a ring.

This wasn’t something I’d bully her into. I’d wait. If I’d learned one thing from our relationship, it was that putting my impulsiveness under wraps until the time was right to act was key. But walking beside me, back stiff, shoulders straight, doing her best to look anywhere but at me, she was clearly pissed.

I squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t bother looking at me.

“Rachael, we’re in the most romantic city on earth, walking down the street. There’s the Eiffel Tower.” I pointed
at the enormous structure only a block or so away. “There are cafés and boutiques on every corner. Look.” I gestured to a table-lined sidewalk across the street. “We can stop for a glass of wine if you’d like.”

She did look at me then and gave me a smile, but it was anything but heartfelt. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

I flipped through my internal catalog of what to do when Rachael was mad. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very fool-proof catalog. Typically, it got me into more trouble. “Since this is your first time here, we should go through the Louvre.” Being a designer and an architect, she’d love it, I was sure.

She shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Now she was just being stubborn. “Okay. I’ll leave the plan up to you. I’m enjoying being here in your company.”

“Let’s just walk,” she said.

So we kept on, down the bustling sidewalk full of Parisians and tourists alike. As she stalked down the Champs-Élysées, her foul mood kept her from taking in her surroundings. She hadn’t even commented on the Arc de Triomphe. This couldn’t stand. “Rachael, I—”

“Let’s go in here,” she said, cutting me off and pushing open the door of a jewelry store. I followed, grateful for her showing interest in anything. Hell, I’d buy her ten-thousand-dollar earrings if it would make her happy.

But I soon realized it wasn’t earrings she was after. She stopped directly in front of the case holding diamond rings—engagement rings to be precise—and I was screwed.

“Can I help you?” a woman asked in a Parisian accent. Her hair was pulled back severely from her face and secured in a tight bun behind her head. Her slim, long tailored skirt and jacket made me think of an evil stepmother from some kids’ movie I saw on HBO. Nanny McSomething or other. Her drawn expression did little to make me eager to spend money in the store.

“These are all so lovely,” Rachael said, admiring the rings. “Don’t you think so, Merrick?”

My throat constricted and I swallowed hard, trying to stay in control. My mind practically itched to be spontaneous and go along with her. We could be married by nightfall. She looped her arm through mine and there was no escape. “Yes. Lovely,” I said, almost choking on the words.

“You’re right. This is the most romantic place on earth.” She sighed longingly.

The situation was so contrived—so unlike Rachael—I stifled a laugh that would get me a murderous glare and the silent treatment for at least a week. She couldn’t be more obvious about her intentions, but she still hadn’t just tried talking to me about it.

“Would you like me to take one out for you?” the saleswoman asked, darting glances between me and Rachael.

“No,” I said, and felt Rachael stiffen beside me. She dropped her arm from mine. “We’re just looking today. Thank you.”

I wouldn’t be bullied into this either, not to mention the fact that I already had the ring and it was sitting in my suitcase
back at the hotel. I’d been carrying it around with me fighting the urge to drop down in front of her and beg her never to leave me.

It just seemed so fast. She needed more time. I knew she did, even if she couldn’t admit it to herself.

I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Now’s not the right time.”

Her chest expanded with air and she held it in. I was afraid she was gearing up to let me have it. But she slowly let out her breath. “Thank you,” she said to the woman with a curt nod before pivoting and heading for the door without one glance in my direction.

I followed her out, grabbing the door before it shut in my face. “Rachael?” I called, catching up with her.

“Just don’t. There’s nothing to say.” She rounded on me, jutting out a hip. “Unless you want me to go back home to my mother again since I’m being unreasonable?”

Of course she’d throw the last time we’d had… differences of opinion, up in my face. “No. I thought we were past that. I was stupid. I don’t want you to go anywhere. Ever.” I reached for her hand and she turned away.

“Yeah
¸
 you’ve proven that.”

Jesus. This woman would be the death of me yet. “Rachael. Do you honestly think I don’t want to be with you?”

She let out a sharp laugh, her hair bouncing up and down with each hard step away from me. “I’m beginning to.” The words were thrown carelessly over her shoulder.

My temper simmered. One more comment like that and it would flare out of control. I put a hand out and caught her by the shoulder, firmly stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t.”

She stopped and let me step up beside her, crossing her arms over her chest. She turned her head away, furiously wiping her fingers under her eyes.

Guilt and regret swept through me. I’d failed her. Again. “You’re crying.”

“I’m humiliated,” she snapped.

“Humiliated?” I dropped my head, shaking it. Hurting her was the worst feeling in the world. I hated myself every single time I fucked up. “I’ll go back in there right now and buy you a ring. Five rings. Hell, the whole freaking case if that’s what you want.”

Rachael turned her eyes on me and I flinched. I’d never seen her so… raw with anger. “This isn’t about what
I
want.”

I steadied myself, trying not to let my emotions reflect hers. One of us had to stay calm and rational. I ran my hands up her arms. “I—” My phone rang, sparking every nerve in my body. I grabbed it from my pocket. It was the number I’d been waiting for. “It’s her. Nadia.”

I
willed myself to let my embarrassment slide away as Merrick answered his phone. I’d been foolish to think he’d take the bait dangled in front of his nose in the jewelry store. Soon, though, I’d have to find out one way or the other. I wanted this man for life, and if he was just planning on riding our relationship out for years without making it official… well, I wouldn’t let that happen. I wanted a husband. Kids. A family of our own. Yes, we had time, but if he wasn’t feeling what I was feeling… If his idea of a future wasn’t on track with what I had in mind…

“Fine,” he said into the phone, eyeing me like he was trying to read my mind while listening to Nadia.

I glanced down to my feet. It could wait. My main concern was getting this nightmare over with. Then we could move on with our lives—come what may.

Or may not.

He hung up. “They’ve moved locations.”

My head snapped up. “The wine was from him, wasn’t it?”

He nodded slowly. His jaw clenched and brow knit with anger.

“Why doesn’t she just leave? Does she even want to?”

His expression turned stern. “She’ll call when she can.”

I bit my lip, wanting to ask if he could trust Nadia, or if she was leading us on some crazy chase through France. Speaking for myself, I wouldn’t put one ounce of faith in the girl.

“What now?” I asked.

“Now?” Merrick turned his head from side to side, taking in our surroundings. “We enjoy fall in Paris.” He caught my eyes and cocked a brow. “Unless you’d rather argue some more and doubt my love for you?” His hands came up and cupped my face. “Trust me, Rachael. Have faith in what I feel for you, what I want for us.”

I held his warm, dark eyes as his lips came closer to mine, felt his breath on my cheek, and let go of my anxiety. His kiss eased my mind and filled me with certainty. It would happen for us, and just like his slow, languorous kiss, there was no reason to rush it.

Evening found us strolling along the Seine, hand in hand. We’d done some shopping at the high-end stores and leisured over an early-afternoon bottle of wine at an outdoor café. Content and still jet-lagged, I enjoyed the sun slanting on the water, warming my shoulders as we neared the Eiffel Tower.

I couldn’t believe I was here. There hadn’t been time to think about it, or plan for it; we just left Turtle Tear and here we were. Sometimes life with Merrick Rocha was jarring. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and felt one side
of my mouth rise in a slight smile. He’d never be predictable, that was for sure. My life would never be boring. If our life together charted down the same course it had been on, there was no way to determine where we would end up.

“River dinner cruise?” he asked, nodding toward a launch pier at the foot of the Eiffel Tower where tourists were purchasing tickets and boarding a long boat with a large deck on the front and down the sides. The center was framed with windows for sightseeing. “I don’t know about you, but sitting back on a boat, relaxing and taking in the monuments, sounds like a great idea to me.”

I reached up and stroked his cheek. I hadn’t known I was going to touch him; sometimes my body worked on autopilot when I was close to him. “Sounds perfect.”

We made our way onto the front deck of the boat and stood at the railing looking out at Paris from the water. It was a design architect’s dream. “Did you know,” I asked, grabbing Merrick’s arm, “that the Eiffel Tower was built as a temporary exhibit for the World’s Fair in 1889?”

His eyes flashed as he smiled. “No. I didn’t know that.”

I knew he had to have known. There was no way he didn’t, but I loved that he didn’t want to quench my excitement. I narrowed my eyes at him and grinned back.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me more about the city’s architecture,” he said, waving a hand toward the wide avenues and masses of buildings.

“Well, in the mid-1800s, the city went through a massive remodeling, and for the most part, it’s what we see today. The second empire building codes are still in place if you can believe that.” I felt a little lighter talking about my favorite subject. Architecture was a language in which I was more than fluent.

Merrick became very serious, studying my face closely.

“What?” I asked. His expression was suddenly so odd.

He shook his head, coming out of whatever thought process had taken over his mind. “I like hearing you talk about what you’re passionate about.”

I nudged him with my hip. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“I know.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “It seems like so many times women lose themselves when they’re in a relationship. I’m glad you’re still you. I don’t want Turtle Tear—or me—to define you. Even though Rocha is no longer in the development business, I hope you’ll take on other projects. I can help you make connections with some of my contacts. You just say the word.”

And just when I thought I couldn’t fall more in love with him. Is this what all of his hesitation was about? He didn’t want me forgetting myself and who I was? I turned into him, pressing against his chest as I hugged him. “I’m not ready yet, but when I am, I’ll let you know. And Merrick”—I let him go enough to look into his eyes—“losing myself to you wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. If I ever did, it would be by choice, not by weakness.”

He laughed as the breeze off the water blew through his hair. “I don’t think you’ve got a weak bone in your body, Ms. DeSalvo. You’re one stubborn woman who knows how to get what she wants.”

“I never used to be, Mr. Rocha. I blame you for that.”

“That’s something I don’t mind taking credit for.” He kissed me and the boat lurched under our feet. A horn blew above the wheelhouse, signaling our departure from the pier.

Dinner was served inside the glass-encased boat at a window-side, white-clothed table as we cruised past the Musée d’Orsay, Notre Dame, and La Conciergerie. We dined on salmon and braised fennel, chilled courgette cream soup, and mixed Riviera salads. Stuffed, we picked at our desserts, cherry clafoutis with almond cream, and sipped chardonnay. I detected distress hidden in Merrick’s eyes over his wineglass. He was not a patient man, and not being able to locate Nadia was eating away at him.

I reached across the table and took his hand. “The sun’s setting. Let’s go back out onto the deck and watch.”

The pink-and-orange-streaked sky blazing behind the Louvre took my breath away and made my knees weak. “Can you believe how beautiful…” I could only shake my head in disbelief.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Merrick focusing his phone on me for a photo as I leaned over the railing,
staring into the sky reflected in the water beneath us. “I’ve never seen anything more astoundingly gorgeous in my life,” he said, snapping the picture as I turned to look at him.

“This has been the best afternoon.” I smiled, thinking back to all of our afternoons together. “Not the best ever, but close.”

Merrick stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me, leaning his chin on my shoulder. “Not the best ever? Which was the best ever?”

Heat gathered between my legs as he flattened his palms against my stomach and ran his hands down to the tops of my thighs and up over my hips, pulling me back against him and discreetly grinding himself into me.

I let my head fall back against his shoulder and stared up at the swirling, blinding colors in the sky. “There was this afternoon in a tree house with chocolate-raspberry cake that comes to mind.”

“Mmm,” he groaned in my ear, “the
first
afternoon. I agree, that was a good one, but…”

He pressed himself against me again, holding me so tight, I could barely breathe. “But?” I whispered.

“No matter how much I agree that afternoon was pretty spectacular, the one that stands out in my mind is a certain time we walked in on our friends and then I took you against the door of our bedroom.”

Oh God, that memory made me dizzy with lust. “How
much longer is this cruise?” I heard the desperation in my voice. “And how far is our hotel?”

Merrick chuckled, a deep, guttural sound in my ear that made my spine tingle. “Who says you need to wait?” His hand slipped inside my jacket between the wide-set buttons. His fingers slid down inside my pants, underneath my lace-trimmed underwear.

“Merrick,” I whispered, unable to tell him to stop, but mortified at what we were doing in public.

“Shh… enjoy the view while I enjoy you.” He nodded toward the bank. “Look, there’s Le Grand Palais.” He nuzzled his nose into my neck and breathed me in as his deft fingers alternated between working inside me and rubbing my cleft in small, tantalizing circles. “I remember the first time I saw you touching yourself like this. I thought I would die of wanting you that night.”

I rocked slightly against his hand, not enough to make anyone take notice of what we were doing. “I wanted you, too. Why do you think I was touching myself?” I smiled, then inhaled sharply as he pressed a second finger inside me.

“We’re coming up on La Statue de la Liberté. We’ll be reaching the pier soon.” He lightly bit my neck and rubbed me faster, harder, rolling his fingers up and down while they circled.

I thought I might die of embarrassment, because there was no way to stifle my breathless gasps of pleasure.
I grasped his hand through my pants and held on as he brought me to the edge and then past with thrusts of his fingers inside me. I squeezed his forefinger tight, feeling myself throb and pulse around him while he held me up against the railing.

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing my temple. “The perfect evening.”

He slipped his hand free and spun me to face him. Gathering my hair back from my face, he held my head in his hands and kissed me. His warm, wonderful lips conveyed more than any words ever could.

The sound of the boat horn startled us apart. “Back at the pier,” I said, brushing another kiss on his mouth.

“Just in time.” He winked and gave me a sultry grin.

“You’ll get yours later,” I said, wondering where I could stop and surprise him on our way back to the hotel.