Baby of Fortune Page 11

  “What about this?” His teeth nipped at her as he gently stroked her other nipple with his fingers.

  “Oh, yes.” It had been so long—too long, she realized, since she had last been intimate with him. “Mmm.” She bit her lip as she tried to control the surge of need ripping through her as he took her into his mouth.

  Heather pushed her hips closer, beginning a rhythmic movement against his burgeoning sex. He arched up in response, groaning with pleasure as he turned his attention to her other breast.

  “Honey, slow down.” She’d stolen his control. He grunted, clenching his teeth, fighting against the tide of demanding need rushing through him, wanting to prolong the escalation of desire, to savor every moment with her. His hands tugged the bottom of her swimsuit down. As she wriggled out of it, Justin ran his finger between her thighs. He sucked in a hard breath when her hands started to fumble with the waistband of his trunks; then he lifted his hips, helping to free himself. Then she touched him and he came apart inside.

  Heather slid her hand around him, as he slipped his finger inside her. Her mouth crashed against his while her hips rocked back and forth. She began moving more quickly, and he knew she was about to crest, enjoying the gratification her body demanded. “Wait,” he pleaded, needing to be inside her.

  He lifted her and set her over him, then groaned deep in his throat as she enveloped his sex. It had been so long since he’d been with her. He hissed as her body adjusted to his. She was tight, so tight that the realization that she hadn’t been with anyone else hit him, and his heart slammed against his rib cage. Her hips undulated, driving back and forth, meeting the force of his as he moved inside her.

  “Justin.” She cried out her pleasure and her pupils dilated.

  Knowing she was near climax, he pumped harder and faster, giving her the full use of his body, gritting his teeth, holding back his own pleasure until he was sure she was riding the peak of her own.

  Then he fell over the edge into oblivion, calling her name as he rode the erotic waves with her.

  Justin woke up alone the next morning.

  He sat up stiffly and rubbed his hands through his hair, then listened to see if he could hear Heather. Her absence from his bed told him he might have had the pleasure of her body the night before, but that her trust wasn’t as easily earned. Disappointment and annoyance rippled through him. When he didn’t hear any sign that she was even in the hotel suite, he got out of bed, pulled on the jeans she’d convinced him to buy, and went to find her.

  She was sitting on the small sofa with her back to him. As he approached her, Justin wondered if he was imagining her shoulders tensing. He walked up behind her and slid his hands over them. “Good morning,” he whispered, then leaned down and nuzzled her neck.

  “Morning.”

  She shifted slightly, stiffening when his lips caressed the sensitive area behind her ear. Justin frowned.

  What the hell had happened between last night and this morning?

  Circling the sofa, Justin stopped in front of her. She looked up, gave him a brief, unfocused glance, then went back to reading the newspaper in her hands. Frustrated, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her.

  “All right, let’s talk about it.”

  Practically ignoring him, Heather continued to read without looking his way. “What?”

  “Well, for starters, the disappearing act you pulled this morning.”

  That got her attention, and she lifted her face. Her gaze didn’t quite connect with his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her tone was evasive.

  “The hell you don’t,” Justin stated, showing his annoyance.

  She didn’t say a word, and his frustration increased, bordering on anger. “Why weren’t you in bed with me this morning?” he demanded, knowing he was letting his irritation show, but at the moment not caring. “You’re not usually an early riser, so since you’re up and dressed, I have to believe you’re avoiding me.”

  She nibbled at her lip. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  Justin clenched his jaw. “And exactly what impression are you worried about?” he demanded. “The impression that you enjoyed making love last night? Or that you weren’t sorry then, but you are now?”

  Heather charged to her feet. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Fire ignited in her eyes.

  Confusion whipped through him, and he pulled his hands from the pockets of his jeans to rub the back of his neck. He couldn’t figure her out for the life of him. “What are you trying to say?” He’d thought they’d crossed a barrier between them. He was disconcerted, realizing that apparently she didn’t feel the same way.

  She turned away and walked to the window, stared out at the traffic on the street far below. “Last night doesn’t change anything.”

  Justin felt a knot forming in his gut. “What?”

  She turned and faced him squarely, determination in the lift of her jaw. “Don’t get me wrong. I wanted it as much as you did.” The blatant admission caused her cheeks to redden.

  Justin had a feeling he knew where she was headed, but he decided to let her spell it out. “I’m glad to hear it.” His irritation was dampened by her admission, but only minimally.

  “I just don’t want you to think that everything’s fine and we’re back to where we were before…” She let her words drop off.

  He stalked over to her, his expression fierce. “You’re dead wrong, Heather. Last night changes everything.” Before she could react, he grabbed her arms and dragged her against him, then forced her face up so he could look into her eyes. “I was wrong before to let you go. It won’t happen again.”

  Heather was prevented from answering when the phone rang, interrupting them. With obvious reluctance, Justin let her go to cross the room and snatch it up. As he talked, she ran her gaze over him, and her body responded to the sight of him barely dressed. His shoulder and arm muscles rippled as he set the receiver back in its cradle. As he turned to face her, Heather immediately knew something was wrong.

  “What is it?”

  Concern etched his handsome features. “That was Miranda. Ryan’s been hospitalized.”

  He was obviously shaken, and Heather went to him. “Oh, my. Is it serious?” she asked.

  “His heartbeat is irregular, and they don’t know what’s causing it.”

  The concern over their own problems was forgotten for the moment, and Heather went into his arms, offering him comfort. Though he hadn’t been a part of the Fortune family long, she could see on his face the impact of the news. Ryan’s illness was a threat to Justin’s new family, and he wasn’t ready to confront what it might mean.

  While Justin was bathing, Heather quickly called her mother to check on Timmy. She’d barely had enough time to tell Kathryn how things were going before she heard him turn off the shower. Her heart hammered as she hurriedly hung up the telephone. The deceit was beginning to take its toll on her. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on with her ruse.

  Though she wanted more than ever to tell him about his son, she didn’t feel they’d worked through any of the problems that had caused their breakup. Making love hadn’t changed anything—except that it had heightened her awareness of him.

  She wanted to talk to him, to really know how he’d felt when they lost their child—but right now his family needed him. Or, she thought, he needed to be with them. Heather willingly pushed aside her feelings in deference to the Fortunes, who were undergoing a more immediate crisis.

  Together they went to hospital to be with Miranda and the rest of the family. Dr. Maggie Taylor, a hematologist and toxicology expert, had been assigned to Ryan’s case. Though she had no answers yet, she met with the Fortune’s briefly to update them on Ryan’s condition. Heather was once again impressed by her husband’s genuine concern for his uncle and by the way this large family pulled together for one of their own.

  She could see changes in Justin—in the way h
e treated her, and in the way he was beginning to accept the Fortunes into his life. The spark of hope in her heart grew even stronger. If they could open up their hearts to each other, as well, maybe their marriage could work. And maybe, just maybe, last night really was a start in that direction.

  Later that evening after dinner, they sat on one of the benches along the River Walk, talking a little about her job as a teacher and what the past year had been like for them both.

  Then Justin stunned her by saying, “I wish things had been different.” He looked away, his gaze focused on a young family nearby. The father was pushing a stroller with a toddler, and his young wife held the hand of a little girl of about four. “I wonder sometimes what our lives would be like if we’d never lost the baby.”

  Heather stared at the couple. “I do, too. I wanted the baby so much. It was a part of me, a part of us. When I lost it, I thought that it was my fault somehow, that I’d caused it.”

  Justin reached over and took her hand, gently stroking it as he talked. “It wasn’t your fault, Heather. The doctors told us that sometimes miscarriages just happen and that there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked directly at him, and Justin’s skin turned ashen. Never had he believed she would think he had blamed her. Anguish twisted his features. Because he’d been unable to talk to her, he’d made her believe she’d been responsible? “Believe me, honey, I never blamed you. Not for a minute,” he whispered fiercely. “I just didn’t know what to say to you to make you feel better. I wanted to comfort you, but I felt like you were pulling away from me. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.”

  “Oh, Justin.” She grasped his hand, then both of his surrounded hers.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I’d been able to talk to you. I just couldn’t bring myself to.”

  She was startled by his admission. “Why did you walk away?” she asked, staring into his eyes. Hurt vibrating from deep inside made her chest ache. “I thought you loved me.”

  “You know I did.”

  “You never said it.”

  He flinched, the accusation stinging. She was right, of course, and he couldn’t deny it. To him, words were not important. He’d never had anyone in his life say anything that he could believe. So instead, he’d shown Heather in every way he could how much she meant to him. He’d taken care of her. He’d been faithful. Occasionally, he’d brought her flowers. And he’d always stayed by her side when she was sick. He had done everything he was capable of, to let her know how much she meant to him.

  Saying the words, well, that had been hard for him. A knot formed in his throat. He couldn’t lose her again, not because of his inability to talk to her. Drawing a ragged breath, he forced himself to explain.

  “I didn’t grow up with anyone telling me anything except that I was a lot of trouble, or that I was in the way, or that they were sending me back into the foster care system,” he said, his tone harsh. “When I was small, I foolishly hoped someone would come along and adopt me, take me home and love me. It never happened.” His heart felt as if it had been stabbed as he relived the raw memories of a young child denied the basic emotional fulfillment of life.

  “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been,” she whispered.

  “I tried so hard. I did everything they asked me to do. I didn’t leave my clothes laying around. I cleaned up after myself.” He shook his head and gave a short laugh. “I learned that lesson the hard way. Once, I got punished for leaving my school books on the bed instead of under it.”

  “They punished you for that?” she asked, astonished that people could be so hurtful.

  He looked anguished. “I was put in a closet for hours, then sent to bed without dinner.” He stopped speaking and looked away from her. Then he said, “Believe me, I never left anything out of place again. I never even unpacked my clothes after that. Whenever I went to a new home, I just left them in the bag I brought them in.”

  Heather was stunned, unable to speak. That explained his abnormal behavior when she’d asked him to pick up something he’d left lying around. “Justin, I’m so sorry.”

  It was obvious she was hurting for him, and her gaze filled with sympathy as she listened. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” he said, his tone becoming slightly harsh. “I want you to understand who I am, where I came from. Talking was never easy for me, and to be honest, I’m still not comfortable, but I’m trying.”

  She waited patiently for him to go on, and after a brief hesitation, he continued. “A lot has happened over the past few months, and I’m learning how important family is. When I met my mother and the rest of the Fortunes, I wanted what they have—love for each other and their families. All I could think about was you and how much I need you in my life.”

  “Oh, honey, I need you, too. So much.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard to gain some control over her jagged emotions. “But back then, I felt rejected by you. Losing the baby was so hard, and when you shut me out—”

  “I felt you withdrawing from me, and I was devastated. My world was falling apart. I’d learned to control everything around me, but I realized I was powerless to stop what was happening between us.”

  Heather sighed and looked away from his intense gaze. “I resented that control,” she admitted quietly. She glanced back at him. “Oh, not at first,” she said quickly, when she saw his facial muscles tense. “I’d never had anyone care so much for me that when we were first married, I let you make all the decisions concerning us. For a while, it made me feel special and protected. But after a while, I started to resent it. It seemed like the more I tried to show my own strength, the more you fought it.”

  “And now?” he asked, quietly studying her.

  She hesitated, looking deep into his eyes, wanting him to understand that she’d changed. “I don’t need you to take care of me anymore, Justin. It’s important for you to realize that over the past year, I’ve grown a lot, learned that I’m stronger than I thought.”

  “And I was holding you back from learning that.”

  She nodded slightly, afraid to look at him, afraid not to. “When you asked me to come here, I was worried that perhaps we couldn’t work things out between us because of your need to control everything and everyone around you.” Her eyes watered. “But I see how you’re trying to change. The Justin I knew before never would have behaved that way—he wouldn’t have asked, he would have demanded it.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t want to,” he said a bit reluctantly. “I’m making progress, but old habits die hard, honey.” After pausing a moment, he went on. “Losing you showed me I could continue to control my feelings, but it would cost me in the end.” He shook his head. “At the time, I told myself that you just needed some space, that things between us would get better. I was crushed when you asked for a separation.”

  She sighed heavily. “I never wanted you to leave. I think now that I was trying to shock you. I guess I was thinking you’d have to talk to me, somehow understand what I was feeling, help me through my own pain. I was just as wrong. I didn’t talk to you, tell you what I was going through. I guess I expected you to know.” Her eyes welled with tears; the droplets dripped from the corners and rolled down her cheeks. “When I was a teenager and my father left, I felt so rejected by him.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I never let it go. When you agreed to the separation, I saw it as you rejecting me, too.”

  He touched her face, then dashed tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Please don’t cry.” Realizing where they were and not wanting to cause a scene, he said, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go.” Standing, he gently tugged her from her seat on the bench. Hand in hand, they walked back to the suite.

  As they stepped inside, Justin slipped his arms beneath her legs and carried her to the bedroom. Once there, he laid her on the bed, then stretched out beside her and gathered her against him.

  Sighing, he kissed her brow. �
��Heather, I’m so sorry. I wish I’d handled things differently. I’m going to try really hard to be more open with you about what I’m feeling.”

  “We both made a lot of mistakes,” she said, smoothing the hair from his forehead.

  He touched his lips to hers, slipping his tongue out and running it over them. Her arms twined around his neck, and she held his mouth to hers, deepening the kiss, until they had to break apart to breathe.

  Justin started fumbling with her shirt, yanking it out of her pants. “I love you, Heather.” He kissed her mouth again, then gazed into her beautiful green eyes, eyes shining now with deep feeling and love. “I always have.”

  Heather smiled at him and he grinned lasciviously. “Let’s make a baby,” he whispered fiercely.

  Ten

  Heather touched his lips with her finger, stopping him from speaking, her heart beating hard and fast against her ribs. “Make love to me, Justin. Love me like you used to.”

  “Try and stop me,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. He had unbuttoned all the buttons of her blouse and was busy working it off her shoulders. She slipped her arms free, which left her clad only in her bra and pants.

  “You’re overdressed,” she complained, smiling seductively.

  “Let’s do something about that.” He lifted himself up, as she tugged his shirttail out. Moments later, he unfastened her bra and tossed it away. Then, finally, they were skin to skin. Sealing her mouth with his, Justin kissed her long and hard.

  Heather moaned deep in her throat, as he cupped her breast. She ran her palms over the corded muscles of his back, gently raking his skin with her nails. His mouth left hers, only to return again and again. Then he was pressing hot, wet kisses to her neck. Then lower. When his tongue touched one hardened nipple, she arched her back, offering him more of herself. He gently teased first one peak, then the other.

  When he stroked her belly with his tongue, she writhed beneath him, her hands in his hair, guiding his path. His hand found the button on the front of her slacks, and she stopped his progress by grabbing at it with her hands. “No, wait. The lights,” she whispered.