More Than Anything

“Not because of any unpleasantness, but I’d give up a lot for something that was wort

h it.”

She sipped her wine. “So would I, if the timing were right.”

“It never is.” I shrugged. “The house will be on the market soon anyway. It has lost some of its charm for me in the last two years. I suppose when I bought it, there was some secret wish that I’d have a family to live here with. Now it’s just a big empty house with some fairly pleasant memories.”

Allie put her wine glass down on the pristine white tablecloth and gave me a wounded look. “I take it that’s my fault as well.”

I smiled humorlessly. “You always had your priorities.”

“You were the one who left,” she said suddenly, vehemently. “You chose to leave.”

“Because you didn’t want me to stay,” I fired back, trying to keep my voice from rising. “You made that very clear.”

“You saw what you wanted to see,” she accused. “You couldn’t wait to go back to your retinue of models and ballet dancers and all the other women in your waiting harem.”

“And for you, there was Guy Fletcher and all the other unfortunate men who make the mistake of falling in love with you.” I laughed bitterly. “No, Allie. I saw things the way they were.”

She got up, pushing her chair back almost violently. “I’m sick of this,” she said, her voice strained. “It’s no use trying to be civil with you. You hate me? You blame me? Fine! Good night, Braden! And have a great life!”

Twenty-Two

Allie

I only took two steps before he grabbed my arm. “Don’t walk away from me.”

I whirled and got in his face, my memories bitter from the day he’d walked away from us in LA and again less than a year later, the day of his father’s funeral.

“Why?” I cried. “Is that something only you are allowed to do?

His eyes narrowed then flared. He was still holding my arm, and he pulled me roughly to him, one moment glaring at me, the next our lips met in an explosion of need that weakened my knees and made me unable to think.

His hands gripped the neckline of my dress, and before I could say anything, he’d torn it down the front, exposing my breasts.

“Jesus,” he groaned. “You have driven me crazy.”

“Don’t even talk,” I fired back, pulling his head down so his lips touched mine again. I bit down on his lower lip as he cupped my breasts, squeezing my nipples between his fingers.

I was wet and aching in my core, desperately impatient. He edged me toward the table, pulling one damask upholstered chair out of the way before pushing me onto my back. He bent over me to take my lips again while his fingers slipped through the torn front of my dress to find the slick desire inside my panties.

He kissed me and fingered me at the same time, swallowing my desperate moans as I tore at his clothes. He made me crazy with desire. He made me want him in ways I could never want anyone else. I spread my legs wider, giving his fingers access to drive me completely wild.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” It didn’t sound like praise. It sounded like frustration and exasperation, but I didn’t care. I only wanted him. He pulled his sweater over his head and undid his pants, giving me just a moment to admire the hard length of his arousal before he grabbed hold of my hips and entered me.

“Braden.” I gasped at the sweet fullness, temporarily out of breath.

“Damn, Allie.” His voice was tight. He stayed unmoving for a moment, his face a study in pleasure and desire. His fingers were digging into my flesh, almost to the point of pain, but I loved it. I loved every inch of his touch.

“You feel so good,” I breathed, rolling my hips, desperate. I wanted more. I wanted everything, and I almost cried in relief when he started to move, his hips flexing deeply as he drove me to climax after climax, making me his in ways nobody else ever could.

Twenty-Three

Braden

We made love again after I carried her upstairs to our bedroom. There was still holiday music chiming softly in the air, and the bed smelled of her, flowery and sweet. There was no way I was ever going to get enough of her. I knew it, and my body knew it too.

I kissed the curve of her shoulder. “After the funeral, in your hotel…I’m sorry for the way I acted.”