The Man You'll Marry (15 page)

“It all has to do with the musical rest,” he said seductively. “The all-important caesura. Who would ever have guessed something so small could change a man’s entire life?” He kissed her with a hunger that moved her, then made love to her with a need that humbled her.

It was noon before they left the hotel room and one o’clock when they returned.

“Jordan,” Jill said, blushing when he reached for her, “it’s the middle of the day.”

“So?”

“So…it’s indecent.”

“Really?” But as he spoke, he was lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss was intoxicating, and any resistance Jill might have felt vanished like ice in the sun.

She rested her palms against his shoulders as he kissed her again and again.

Unable to stop herself, Jill moaned softly.

Dragging his mouth from hers, he trailed kisses down the side of her neck. “There’s that sightseeing trip you wanted to take,” he reminded her. “To see the pineapple and sugarcane fields.”

“It’s not important. We could see them another time,” she said breathlessly.

“That’s not what you claimed earlier.”

“I was just thinking…” She didn’t get the opportunity to finish. Jordan’s kiss absorbed her words and scattered the thought.

“What did you think?”

“That married people should occasionally be willing to change their plans,” she managed to say.

Jordan chuckled, and lifting her gently into his arms, carried her to the bed. “I’m beginning to think married life is going to agree with me.” His mouth found hers and gentleness gave way to urgency.

Five days later, when Jordan and Jill returned to the mainland, their honeymoon over, Jill was so deeply in love with her husband she wondered why she’d ever hesitated, why she’d fought so hard against marrying him.

The first person she called when they arrived at the penthouse was Shelly. Jordan had arranged to have her things moved there while they were away. Ralph lived at her previous apartment now and was elated with the extra space.

“Have you got time to meet an old friend for lunch?” Jill asked without preamble.

“Jill!” Shelly cried. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago.” Although he hadn’t said as much, she knew Jordan was dying to get to his office. “I thought I’d steal away for a few minutes and meet you.”

“I’d love to see you. Just name the time and place.”

Jill did, then kissed Jordan on the cheek while he was talking to his assistant on the phone in his study. He broke away, covered the mouthpiece with his hand and gave her a surprised look. “Where are you headed?”

“Out for lunch. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” But he didn’t sound all that sure.

“I thought you’d want to go to the office,” she said.

“I do.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her close to his side.

“I know, so I thought I’d meet Shelly.”

He grinned, kissed her lightly and resumed his telephone conversation as though she’d already left. Jill lingered at the door, waiting for the elevator. Part of her longed to stay with him, to hold on to the happiness before it escaped, before it was dispersed by everyday tensions and demands.

“Well,” Shelly said a half hour later as she slid into the restaurant booth across from Jill, “how are the newly weds?”

“Wonderful.”

“I thought you’d be more tanned.”

Jill blushed; Shelly laughed and reached for her
napkin. “It was the same with Mark and me. I swear, we didn’t leave that hotel room for three days.”

“We made several short trips,” Jill said, but she didn’t elaborate on exactly how short their sightseeing ventures had been.

“Married life certainly seems to agree with you.”

“It’s only been a week,” Jill reminded her friend. “That’s hardly time enough to tell.”

“I knew after the first week,” Shelly said confidently, her face animated by a smile. “I figured if Mark and I survived the honeymoon, our marriage had a chance. Mark wanted to honeymoon at Niagara Falls, remember?”

“And you suggested a rafting trip through the Grand Canyon.” Jill smiled at the memory. Mark preferred tradition, while Shelly craved adventure, but in the end, they’d learned what she and Jordan had already discovered. All that mattered was their marriage, their love for each other.

“We couldn’t agree,” Shelly continued. “I was seriously worried about it. If we were at odds over a honeymoon site, then what on earth would happen when it came to dealing with the really important issues?”

Jill understood what Shelly meant. She loved Jordan; of that there could be no doubt. Now she had to place her trust in their love, hope it was strong enough to withstand day-to-day reality. She was still fearful, but ready to fight for her marriage, to keep it safe.

Suddenly Shelly set aside the menu, pressed her hand against her stomach and slowly exhaled.

“Shell, what’s wrong?”

Shelly briefly closed her eyes. “Nothing bad. I just can’t stand to read about food.”

“About food?” That made no sense to Jill.

“I’m two months pregnant.”

“Shelly!” Jill was so excited she nearly toppled her water glass. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Good grief, I’m your best friend—I’d think you’d want me to know.”

“I do, but I couldn’t tell you until I knew for sure, could I?”

“You just found out?”

“Not exactly.” Shelly reached for a small packet of soda crackers, tore away the cellophane wrapper and munched on one. “I found out before your wedding, but I didn’t want to say anything then.”

Jill appreciated Shelly’s considerateness, her wish not to compete with Jill’s important day.

“Actually, it was Mark who told me. Imagine a husband explaining the facts of life to his wife. I’m such a scatterbrain, I made a mistake. I miscalculated and didn’t even know it.”

As far as Jill was concerned, this baby certainly wasn’t a mistake, and from Shelly’s happy glow, her friend felt the same way.

“I was afraid Mark might be upset. Naturally we’d talked about starting a family, but neither of us planned to have it happen so soon.”

“He wasn’t upset, though, was he?” Jill would’ve been shocked if Mark had been anything but thrilled.

“Not in the least. When he first told me what he suspected, I just laughed.” She shook her head in mock consternation. “You’d think I’d know better than to question a man who sleeps with his daily planner by his side!”

“I’m thrilled for you.”

“Now that I’ve adjusted to it, I can’t wait. I’m looking forward to decorating the nursery and wearing maternity clothes and
everything
.”

After the waitress had taken their order, Jill leaned back against the banquette cushion. “It happened just like you said it would,” she said.

“What did?”

“Loving Jordan.” Jill felt a little shy talking so openly about something so intimate. Although she and Jordan were married and deeply in love with each other, they never spoke of their feelings. Jordan was still uncomfortable with expressing emotion. But he didn’t need to tell Jill he loved her, not when he went about proving it every way he knew how. She’d never pressured him, never demanded the words.

“The day we were married you told me love makes the difficult things seem effortless. Remember?”

Ever confident, Shelly grinned. “You’re going to be so happy…” She paused, swallowed and reached for her napkin, dabbing her eyes. “I get so emotional these days, I can’t believe it. The other night I found myself crying at a stupid television commercial.”

“You? Seattle’s drama queen? Impossible,” Jill teased.

Shelly shook her head ruefully. “Yes, me.” She began to laugh, and Jill joined in.

Laughter came easily since her marriage; it was all the happiness in her heart brimming over, spilling out. She’d never felt so carefree or laughed at so many silly things before.

When Jill returned from lunch two hours later, Jordan was gone. Exhausted from the flight and the excitement of the past week, she crawled into bed and slept, not waking until it was dark.

Rolling onto her back, she stretched luxuriously under the weight of the blanket and smiled, musing how thoughtful it was of Jordan to let her sleep.

She kicked aside the blanket and searched blindly for her shoes. Yawning, she walked into the living room, surprised to find it dark.

“Jordan?” she called.

She was greeted by silence.

Turning on the lights, Jill was shocked to discover it was after nine. Jordan must still be at the office, she supposed, her stomach knotting. Could it be happening so soon? Could he have grown tired of her already?

No sooner had the thought formed than the elevator doors opened and Jordan appeared. She didn’t fly into his arms, although that was her first instinct.

“Hello,” she greeted him, a bit coolly.

He was loosening his tie. “What time is it?”

“Nine-fifteen. Are you hungry?”

He paused, as though he needed to think about it. “Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t have a clue it was this late.”

“That’s okay,” she muttered, although it really wasn’t.

He followed her into the kitchen and slid his arms around her waist while she investigated the contents of the refrigerator.

“It won’t be like this every night,” he said, his words sounding very much like a promise her father had once made to her mother.

“I know,” Jill said, desperately hoping that was true.

She couldn’t sleep that night. Perhaps it was the long nap she’d taken in the middle of the afternoon; at least that was what she tried to tell herself. More likely, though, it was the gnawing fear that Jordan’s love for her was already faltering. She tried to push the doubts aside, tried to convince herself she was overreacting. He’d been away from his office for a week. There must have been all kinds of important issues that required his attention. Was she expecting too much?

In the morning, she promised herself, she’d talk to him about it. But when she awoke, Jordan had left for the office.

Frowning, she dressed and wandered into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” Jordan’s cook, Mrs. Murphy, a middle-aged woman with lively blue eyes and a wide smile,
greeted her. Jill smiled back, although her cheerfulness felt a little strained.

“Hello, Mrs. Murphy, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, helping herself to coffee. “Uh, what time did Jordan leave this morning?”

“Early,” the cook said with a disappointed sigh. “I was thinking Mr. Wilcox would stop working so hard once he was married. He hasn’t even been home from his honeymoon twenty-four hours and he’s already at the office at the crack of dawn.”

Jill hated to disillusion the woman, but this wasn’t Jordan’s first trip to the office. “I’ll see what I can do about giving him some incentive to stay home,” Jill said, savoring her coffee.

Mrs. Murphy chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it. That man works too many hours. I’ve been telling my George that Mr. Wilcox needs a wife to keep him home at night.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jill said, but she had the distinct feeling her efforts would make little difference. Checking her watch, she quickly drank the rest of her coffee and hurried into the bedroom to shower.

Within half an hour she was dressed and ready for work.

“Mrs. Murphy,” she told the cook, “I’ll be at work—PayRite Pharmacy—if Jordan happens to call. Tell him I’ll be home shortly after five.” Jill wished she’d had the chance to talk to him herself; she knew he was going to be tied up in meetings and conference calls, so she was reluctant to interrupt. Still, she was more than a little dis
tressed that within a week of their wedding she was communicating with her husband through a third party.

Despite everything, Jill enjoyed her day, which was busier than usual. The pharmacy staff took her out for a celebration lunch, and dozens of customers came by to wish her well. Many of the people whose prescriptions she filled regularly had become friends. In light of how her married life was working out, Jill was thankful she’d decided to keep her job.

By five she was eager to get home, eager to share her day with Jordan and hear about his. She was met by the aroma of cheese, tomato sauce and garlic, and followed it into the kitchen, where she found Mrs. Murphy untying her apron.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells absolutely delicious.”

“It’s my lasagna. Mr. Wilcox’s favorite.”

Jill opened the oven door and peeked inside. She was famished. “Did Jordan phone?” she asked, her voice rising on a note of longing.

“About fifteen minutes ago. I told him you’d be home a bit after five.”

No sooner were the words out than the phone rang. Jill saw Jordan’s office number on call display and answered immediately.

“This is Brian Macauley, Mr. Wilcox’s assistant,” a crisp male voice informed her. “He’s asked that I let you know he won’t be home for dinner.”

“J
ill.”

Her name seemed to come from a long way off. Someone was calling her, but she could barely hear.

“Sweetheart.” The voice was louder now.

She snuggled into the warmth, ignoring the persistent sound. After hours and hours of forcing herself to stay awake, she’d finally given up and succumbed to the sweet seduction of sleep.

“Honey, if you don’t wake up, you’ll get a crick in your neck.”

“Jordan?” Her eyes instantly flew open, and she saw her husband kneeling on the carpet beside her chair. She straightened, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Jordan,” she whispered, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“With this kind of reception, I’ll have to stay away more often.”

Jill decided to ignore that comment. “What time is it?”

“Late” was all he said.

She kissed him, needing him, savoring the feel of his arms around her. He looked dreadful. He hadn’t been home for dinner in well over a week and spent all hours of the day and night at his office.

Although she’d asked him several times, Jordan’s only explanation was that a project he’d been working on had developed problems.
A project
. For this he was willing to send both their lives into tumult; for this he was willing to place their marriage at risk. The upheaval had all but ruined the memory of their brief idyllic honeymoon. They’d been back in Seattle for two weeks now, and Jill hadn’t been allotted a single uninterrupted hour of Jordan’s time.

“Are you hungry?” She doubted he’d eaten a decent meal in days.

He shook his head, then rubbed his face wearily. “I’m more tired than anything.”

“How much longer is this going to continue?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She’d gone into this marriage with her eyes wide open. From the moment she’d met Jordan, she’d known how stiff the competition would be, how demanding his way of life was. She’d always known it would be difficult to keep their marriage intact. But she’d figured their love would hold the edge for at least the first couple of years.

Unfortunately she’d figured wrong. If anything, she’d underestimated the strength of his obsession with business and success. Jordan loved her; he might rarely have told her that, but Jill didn’t need the words. What she did need was some of his time, his attention.

“I’ve hardly seen you all week,” she reminded him. “You’re gone before I wake up in the mornings. Heaven only knows what time you get home at night.”

“It won’t be much longer,” Jordan said stiffly, standing. “I promise.”

“Would it be so terrible if this project folded?”

“Yes,” he returned emphatically.

“One failure isn’t the end of the world, you know.”

Jordan smiled wryly, and his condescension angered her.

“It’s true,” she said. “Did I ever tell you about trying out for the lead in the high-school play during my senior year?”

Jordan frowned. “No, but is this another story like the one about your piano-playing?”

Jill tucked her legs under her and rested one elbow on the chair arm. “A little.”

Jordan sank down on the leather sofa across from her, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “In that case, why don’t you move directly to the point and skip the story?”

He wasn’t being rude, Jill told herself, only practical. He was exhausted and in desperate need of rest. He didn’t have the energy to wade through her mournful tale in search of a moral.

“All right,” she agreed amicably enough. “You’ve probably already guessed I didn’t get the lead. But I’d been so sure I would. I’d played major roles in several plays. In fact, I’d gotten every part I’d ever tried out for.
Not only didn’t I get this part, I wasn’t even in the play, and darn it all, even now I think I would’ve done a good job of playing Helen Keller.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you would have, too.”

“What I learned from that experience was not to fear failure. I survived not playing Helen Keller, and later, in college, when I was awarded a wonderful role, it heightened my appreciation of that success.” When Jordan didn’t immediately respond, she added, “Do you understand what I’m saying or are you asleep?”

His eyes were still closed but his mouth lifted in a gentle smile. “I was just mulling over the sad history of your musical and acting careers.”

Jill smiled, too. “I know it sounds ludicrous, but failure liberated me. My heart and soul went into my audition for that role, and when I lost, I felt I could never act again. It took me a long time to regain my confidence, to be willing to hazard another rejection, but eventually I was the stronger for it. When I decided to try out for a play in my freshman year of college, I felt as though I was somehow protected, because failure wasn’t going to rock me the way it had earlier.”

“So you wanted to be an actress?”

“No, I’m not much good at waiting tables.”

Jordan didn’t immediately catch her joke, but when he did, he laughed out loud.

“You know what they say about hindsight being twenty-twenty? In this case it’s true. If failure hadn’t
taught me to appreciate success when I got it, I might have fallen into a nasty trap.”

“What was that?”

“Thinking I deserved it, believing I was so talented, so gifted, so good that I’d never lose.”

Jordan fell silent. Jill waited a moment, then said, “Mr. Howard told me something…about the shopping-mall project. I didn’t say anything to you at the time because…well, because I wasn’t sure he wanted me to.”

She had Jordan’s full attention now.

He straightened, his eyes searching hers. “What did he say?”

“He hasn’t often gone in on construction projects with you, has he?”

“Only a handful of times.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve never failed.”

Jordan’s head came up sharply. “I beg your pardon?”

Jill knew he found such thinking preposterous. If anything, his successes should have been an inducement to his financial supporters.

“Mr. Howard explained that he doesn’t like to deal with a man until he’s been devastated financially at least once.”

“That makes no sense,” Jordan returned irritably.

“Perhaps not. Since my experience in the financial world is limited to paying my bills, I wouldn’t know,” Jill admitted.

“Who’s going to lend money to someone who’s failed?”

“Apparently Andrew Howard,” Jill said with a grin. “He told me the man who’s lost everything is much more careful the next time around.”

“I didn’t realize you and Howard talked business.”

“We didn’t.” She did her best to appear nonchalant. “Mostly we discussed you.”

This didn’t please Jordan, either. “I’d prefer to think I owe my success to hard work, determination and foresight. I certainly wouldn’t have come as far as I have without them.”

“True enough, but—”

“Is there always going to be a but?”

Jill tried to hold back a laugh. Actually she was enjoying this, while her tired husband was left to suffer the indignities of her insights.

“Well,” he said shortly, “go on, knock down my argument.”

“Oh, I agree your intelligence and dedication have played a large role in your success, but others have worked just as hard, been just as determined and shown just as much foresight—and lost everything.”

Jordan scowled. “My, you’re full of cheer, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want you to put so much store in this one project. If it falls apart, so what? You’re beating yourself to death with this.” She didn’t mention what it was doing to their marriage.

He considered her words for a few seconds, then his
face tightened. “I won’t lose. I absolutely, categorically, refuse not to succeed.”

“How much longer?” Jill asked when she could disguise the defeat and frustration she was feeling.

He hesitated, then massaged the back of his neck as though to ease away a tiredness that stretched from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “A week. It shouldn’t be much more than that.”

A week. Seven days. She closed her eyes, because looking at him, seeing him this exhausted, this spent, was painful. He needed her support now, not her censure.

“All right,” she murmured.

“I don’t like this any better than you do.” Jordan stood and held her securely in his embrace, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “I’m a newlywed, remember. There’s no one I want to spend time with more than my wife.”

Jill nodded, because it would have been impossible to speak.

“I wish you hadn’t waited up for me,” he said, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into their bedroom. Without turning on the light, he settled her on the bed and lay down beside her, placing his head on her chest. Jill’s fingers idly stroked his hair.

Words burned in her throat, the need to unburden herself, but she dared not. Jordan was exhausted. This wasn’t the right time.

Would it ever be the right time?

There’d been so many lonely evenings, so many
empty mornings. Every night Jill went to bed alone, and only when Jordan slipped in beside her did she feel alive. Only when they were together did she feel whole. So she waited night after night for a few precious minutes, knowing they were all he had to spare.

The even sound of Jordan’s breathing told her he’d fallen asleep. The weight on her chest was growing uncomfortable, yet she continued to stroke his hair for several minutes, unwilling to disturb his rest.

She’d always known it would come to this; she just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

A week. He’d promised her it would be over within a week.

And it would be—until the next time.

Jill awoke early the following morning, astonished to find Jordan asleep beside her. At some point during the night he’d rolled away from her and covered them both with a blanket. He hadn’t bothered to undress.

Jill wriggled toward him and playfully kissed his ear. She knew she ought to let him sleep, but she also knew he’d be annoyed if he was late for the office.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking surprised to see her there with him.

“Morning,” she whispered, with a series of tiny, nibbling kisses.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost eight.” She looped her arms around his neck and smiled down at him.

“Hmm. An indecent hour.”

“Very indecent.”

“My favorite time of day.” His fingers were busy unfastening the opening of her pajama top and his eyes blazed with unmistakable need.

“Jordan,” she said breathlessly, “you’ll be late for work.”

“I fully intend to be,” he said, directing her lips to his.

“It’s happening already, isn’t it?” Elaine Morrison said bluntly the next Saturday. She stood in Jill’s living room, holding a china cup and saucer and staring out the window. The view of the Olympic Mountains was spectacular, the white peaks jutting against a backdrop of bright blue sky as fluffy clouds drifted past.

Jill knew precisely what her mother was saying. She responded the only way she could—truthfully. “Yes.”

Elaine turned, her face pale, haunted with the pain of the past, the pain she saw reflected in her daughter’s life. “I was afraid of this.”

Until recently, Jill had found communicating with her mother difficult. After her husband’s death, Elaine had withdrawn from life, hidden herself away in her grief and regrets. In many ways, Jill had lost her mother at the same time as she had her father.

“Mom, it’s all right,” Jill said in an attempt to reassure her. “It’s only for the next little while. Once this project’s under control everything will be different.”

Jill knew better. She wasn’t fooling herself, and she sincerely doubted she’d be able to fool her mother.

“I warned you,” Elaine said, walking to the white leather sofa and sitting tensely on the edge. Setting the cup and saucer on a nearby table, she turned pleading eyes to Jill. “Didn’t I tell you? The day of the wedding—”

“Yes, Mother, you warned me.”

“Why didn’t you listen?”

Jill exhaled slowly, praying for patience. “I’m in love with him, just like you loved Daddy.”

It seemed unfair to drag her father into this, her much-grieved father, but it was the only way Jill could explain.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Mother,” Jill sighed. “It’s not as though Jordan’s having an affair.”

“He might as well be,” Elaine replied heatedly. “Here it is, Saturday afternoon and he’s working. One look at him told me he had the same drive and ambition, the same need for power, as your father.”

“Mother, please…It isn’t like that with Jordan.”

The older woman’s eyes were infinitely sad as she gazed at her daughter. “Don’t count on that, Jill. Just don’t count on it.”

Her mother’s visit had unsettled Jill. Afterward, she tried to relax with a book, but couldn’t concentrate. The phone rang at six, just as it had every night that week. One of Jordan’s assistants had called to let her know he wouldn’t be home for dinner.

One ring.

Walking over to the phone, Jill stood directly in front of it, but didn’t pick up the receiver.

Two rings.

Drawing in a deep breath, she flexed her fingers. Twice in the past couple of weeks, Jordan had phoned himself. Maybe he’d be on the other end of the line, inviting her to join him for dinner. Maybe he was phoning to tell her he’d unscrambled the entire mess and he’d be home within the next half hour. Perhaps he was calling to suggest they take a few days off and vacation somewhere exotic, just the two of them.

Three rings.

Jill could feel her pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. But she didn’t answer.

Four rings.

Five rings.

The phone went silent.

Her entire body was trembling when she turned away and walked into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

The phone began to ring again, the sound reverberating loudly through the apartment. Jill slapped her hands over her ears, unable to bear it. Each ring tormented her, pretending to offer hope when there was none. It wouldn’t be Jordan, but his assistant, and his message would be the same one he’d relayed every night that week.