Magdalene (34 page)

He smirked but turned to do as I said, which
was just as well. I hadn’t been joking.

I set two places for us at the island bar
then went to the stove and stirred the perfect cold-weather soup,
one I love, but hadn’t made once I no longer needed to.

Shit, Cassie, poor people food again?

I didn’t know why I’d made it today, but
Trevor’s reaction to my bread had bolstered my courage to actually
serve it instead of throwing it out. Still, I could feel the
minuscule trembles as I awaited Mitch, awaited his reaction.

What I got was not what I expected. He came
back in tight worn jeans that showed every ridge of his musculature
and emphasized his cock—although I didn’t know if he’d done that on
purpose. Over that, he wore a white sweatshirt that made his hair
lighter blond and downplayed the faint reddish tones, but made his
eyes a deeper blue. Looking at him was all it took to make me
tingle, and now he came at me with a determined stride.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cassandra,” he
murmured just before his lips touched mine.

I sighed into his mouth when he kissed me,
his right arm around me so his big hand could span my buttocks and
pull my body into him. He cupped my jaw with his left hand then
slid his fingers into my hair.

And oh, the man could kiss. Whatever
deficiencies he might yet reveal in bed, this was not one of them.
He kissed with the passion of a man long denied, waiting for
someone special to bestow it upon, and the thought made me melt
into him, wrap my arms around his waist. I slid one hand up under
his sweatshirt and tee shirt, and one down into his jeans and
boxers. His skin was warm, taut, and velvety.

His kiss deepened as I caressed him, and his
arousal pressed between us, hard and urgent. Somewhere in the
middle of wondering how he could be that disciplined, I stopped
thinking about anything but what he did to me with just a kiss, the
simple connection of mouth to mouth and the slide of tongue on
tongue.

The kitchen was almost completely silent,
the appliances’ whirrs having ceased as if to allow us a measure of
privacy. The only sounds were the ones he and I made as we began
the last leg of our mating dance, the slight rustle of fabric, the
meeting of lips and tongues, the sighs and breaths.

Daring much, knowing he’d shut me down but
still needing to chance it, I slid my hand from his nicely muscled
ass around his hip to his cock, hard, long. He didn’t stop kissing
me so much as pause and shift.

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to avoid or
encourage me.

“Don’t,” he whispered, taking a deep breath
and shuddering when I wrapped my hand around him. “Cassandra...” I
tightened my grip and slid my hand down. He groaned and dropped his
forehead on my shoulder. “I can’t,” he whispered into the crook of
my neck. “I want to. I want to, Cassandra, you have no idea, but I
can’t. Not yet.
Please
.”

Then I understood.

He was begging me not to push him past his
breaking point, trusting that I wouldn’t, yet willing to go with me
if I did—and I knew he would never look at me quite the same way if
I didn’t respect his higher need, if I catered to his baser one. He
had no control left, I knew that, and I could do whatever I wanted
now.

I’d won the game.

I withdrew my hand slowly, then pulled away
to put an inch or so between our bodies. We were both breathing
hard and I would have liked nothing better at that moment than to
feel cold granite under my bare ass, Mitch between my spread legs,
pumping into me hard and fast.

But at what price?

“Thank you,” he whispered as he nuzzled my
neck and it made me smile. Whatever needs I had I could take care
of myself later and would indeed as I fantasized about this moment
in time when I had him where I wanted him—

—but took the higher road instead because it
was important to him; because he thought it was important to his
God.

I didn’t know how he’d brought me to this,
this willingness to forego my own desires, my own purposes in the
face of his, but he had.

He’d won the game.

We stood holding onto one another for the
longest time, his arousal receding although not calming completely,
but I felt a different need rising in me. “I’m hungry.”

He barked a shaky laugh and released me.
“How many ways do you want me to take
that
?”

“Food,” I returned smartly. “I made
dinner.”

“Besides the bread?”

I hesitated, now treading different, though
no less dangerous, waters. “I, um— I thought because it’s cold
outside that—” But he’d wandered to the stove and lifted the lid on
the stockpot.

“Homemade noodles,” he whispered, and I
hoped the floor would open up and swallow me whole right then. He
shot a look over his shoulder at me and said, “And you made
bread
.”

My mouth dropped open when I finally
comprehended the look of sheer little-boy delight on his face.

“I made honey butter, too,” I blurted and
kept right on blurting, “I prefer apple butter, but that takes
time. And apples.” He smiled at me and I felt a thrill roll through
me because of it. Some skilled courtesan I’d turned out to be, to
be so affected by any hint of approval. I didn’t need approval; I
did as I pleased and fuck everybody else’s opinions. I wanted my
approval in the form of cold, hard cash, which was one reason why
Jack and I got along so well.

We sat as close together as we could get
while we ate, talking about everything in general and nothing in
particular.

I asked how Johnny was doing.

“Don’t know,” he said after he’d swallowed a
mouthful of food. “The lawyers got called out this morning after we
left the hospital.”

“Already.”

“It doesn’t take long anymore,” he said
matter-of-factly. “In fact, I’m surprised it took that long. It
does make me mad I can’t know how he’s doing until they see fit to
tell my lawyers.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

He grunted. “Every time something like this
happens, it’s another cut in your soul.”

We sat and ate companionably for a moment,
and after I’d killed off the first pangs of real hunger, I said,
“So, speaking of lawyers.”

He nodded. “I call mine, you call yours? Let
them hammer out the contract.”

“Pretty simple, in my opinion. I leave with
what I brought, and let you keep what you brought. I don’t quibble
over what wasn’t mine to begin with.”

Mitch slid me a look. “You planning to leave
me for sure?”

I shrugged and took another bite. “Depends
on how fast I can get you trained.”

That only made him laugh.

“For all I know, you’re a slow learner,
which, of course, will bore me.”

“Thank you for bringing that up.”

I glared. “Don’t. I was bored. That’s all
you’re going to get.”

“Cassandra, do you really think I haven’t
figured it out?”

Of course he had. “Then why are you bugging
me about it?”

“I want to know how ‘I was bored’ works
within your family dynamic.”

“No. You’re an accomplished liar and one
sneaky bastard, so I’ll thank you to go with it.”

He sighed.

“I would suggest eloping so I can start your
education by midnight tonight, but we both know how that’ll
play.”

“I have no intention of eloping,” he said.
“Been there, done that. And I certainly don’t want the entire
financial district wagering on how much I paid you to marry me. But
you better make it quick.”

“Fast, rude, and cruel, remember.”

“Can you do it in a month? Because that’s
about as long as I can last.”

I wasn’t sure
I
could last that long.
“Consider it done. All you have to do is pay the bills.”

He laughed.

“I,” I said briskly, “need to figure out
what to do with myself for the next year.”

“What do you mean, what to do with
yourself?”

“Jack’s already told me he won’t let me
telecommute and I’m not doing a two-hour drive every morning and
evening.”

Mitch looked at me, confused. “That makes no
sense.”

“I know it, but...”

“You don’t need Jack anymore,” Mitch said
around his food. “You’ve got enough credibility now to go out on
your own. In fact, I bet he was bluffing. He needs you a lot more
than you need him.”

That was true, though why I hadn’t realized
it, I didn’t know.

“How— Um, how do we do the church thing? You
know I’m not interested in the least.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’m
hoping I’ll get released soon, but I’ve got a few situations
brewing I’m going to have to deal with, and I’m pretty sure I won’t
be released until that’s done.”

“Oh! That reminds me...”

I launched into a description of what had
happened during and after Sunday school with Sitkaris, to give him
the opportunity to fill me in.

“Does he really think I’m that naïve?” Mitch
asked wonderingly.

“I was shocked. He should have investigators
all over us.”

Mitch pursed his lips. “Well. He
did
.
He must not have realized yet why they haven’t checked in for a
while.”

That made me laugh. “He’ll hire more when he
figures it out. His biggest problem is he doesn’t see you as
anything other than a bishop, so he doesn’t expect to find
anything.”

“And he has no reason to think he can’t take
you away from me.”

I slid him a glance. “Does that bother you?
If it does, I’ll just slap him the next time he propositions
me.”

“Why would it bother me? I have everything
he ever wanted, and I have no doubts about how you feel about
him.”

Warmth curled through me, and I couldn’t
help but smile.

“So...” he drawled, “tell me about Relief
Society.”

I described Prissy’s lesson, ending with,
“It was an excellent lesson, but she was very heavy-handed.”

“She had a point to make to a few people,
and some people don’t get it unless they’re bopped over the
head.”

“How do you know? You weren’t there.”

“I might as well have been. I got a
play-by-play from five different women the minute the ‘amens’ were
said.”

I started to laugh. “I take it Prissy isn’t
popular?”

“Oh, she’s popular,” Mitch replied, “but not
in the way you’d expect. She does what she wants and doesn’t much
care what anybody thinks about her. Most of the women look to her
to validate their common sense and let them know it’s okay to
dissent while remaining faithful. Her only goal is to teach
concepts and principles, and the lesson manual doesn’t give her
enough to go on.”

“She veered
wildly
off the lesson
manual yesterday.”

Mitch smirked into his bowl just before he
took another bite.

“Oh, you sneaky bastard,” I said. “You asked
her to do that.”

He nodded. “I couldn’t run that ward without
a bunch of sharp women watching my back.”

“The lady who escorted me around was very
upset with her.”

“Who was it?”

“Sally. Bevan, I think?”

Mitch choked. “Sally?” he croaked after a
moment, coughing here and there.

“Uh...” I clapped him on the back.

“Sally,” he said after a moment, “would like
to have a last name other than her husband’s. Guess whose.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Was that lesson for
her?”

“Mmmm, well, about half.”

“Do you need me to come and run interference
for you?”

“I’ve been fending Sally off since I was
fifteen. I’d like you to come to church with me just so I know
you’re there, not because I need protection from her.”

I couldn’t help my smile. “Well, if push
comes to shove, I’ll deal with her. Trust me. I’ve broken more than
one irrationally jealous woman over my knee.”

Mitch looked at me with an indecipherable
expression.

“What?”

“It kind of turns me on when you get like
that.”

I burst out laughing.

“Ah, but there is one thing I would ask of
you, for however long we’re together.”

“What’s that?”

“That you don’t cheat on me.”

I blinked. Cheat on Mitch? I couldn’t
imagine such a thing. “What if I did?”

He looked at me for a long time, then said,
very slowly, “I’d forgive you.”

My world shattered. I couldn’t breathe.
“What if I did it again?” I whispered, actually feeling some amount
of fear now.

“I’d forgive you again.”

“But—”

He put his fingers over my mouth. “I told
you. I believe. I live what I believe to the best of my ability.
Forgiveness is part of that. That’s what I do, that’s my job, and
I’m pretty good at my job.”

I did not know what to make of this man. He
defied logic, defied every worldly experience I’d ever had. He
never did or said anything I expected him to do or say; it occurred
to me that perhaps I should stop expecting.

“Marry me,” he whispered, an odd, knowing
smile on his face. “Be my wife and my playmate, my friend and my
lover.”

My heart stopped and I thought it would
never start again.

“Yes,” I said, knowing I had just promised
him everything I’d never dared promise anyone else.

And I would keep that promise, even if it
killed me.

* * * * *

How to Marry a
Millionaire

February 15, 2011

I decided to go back to New York on
Wednesday since Mitch had made it very clear that he couldn’t have
me overnight in the house without great temptation and agony on his
part—and I refused to stay in a hotel for the next month.

I spent Tuesday at the mill, meeting with
the project teams assigned to getting the parts division separated
from the foundry. I also toured the offices of Hollander Homes, met
the designers, saw prototype products using Mitch’s perfected
alloy. Tuesday evening I went back to church with Mitch—