With a light chuckle, he gave in to her silent demand and found her mouth.
Breathless. Sweet. Their tongues worked hotly over each other, dueling, fighting for dominance. She had suddenly become the aggressor and he was lost, unable to deny her anything.
She was wrapped around him, her body urging him on, arching to meet him and finding a perfect rhythm so they moved as one.
Sex had never been this…perfect.
“Are you close?” he choked out.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“Oh hell, I’m not.”
He closed his eyes and thrust hard and deep. And then he began working his hips against hers in rapid, urgent movements. She let out a strangled cry and he remembered his vow.
“My name,” he said in a breathless pant. “Say my name.”
“Devon!”
She came apart in his arms. Around him. Underneath him. He was bathed in liquid heat and he’d never felt anything so damn good in his life.
“Ashley,” he whispered. “My Ashley. Mine.”
He unraveled at light speed, his release sharp, bewildering and beautiful. His hips were still convulsively moving against her body as he settled down over her, too exhausted and spent to remember his own name. The one he’d demanded she say just moments ago.
He became aware of gentle caresses. Her hands gently stroking over his back. He was probably crushing her but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was inside her. Over her. Completely covering her. She was his.
He knew this moment was significant. Something had changed. But his mind was too numb to sort out the meaning. Never before had he been so undone after making love to a woman.
It was supremely satisfying and scary as hell.
Sixteen
Ashley surveyed the guests as they filtered into the upscale restaurant she’d rented out for the night and felt the ache inside her head bloom more rapidly. She was so nervous she wanted to puke. She wanted everything to be perfect and for things to go off without a hitch.
She’d spent the afternoon at Tabitha’s getting hair and makeup done. Her friends had been skeptical of the look she wanted but in the end they hadn’t argued and then told her how fabulous she looked.
Ashley wanted…sophisticated. Something that didn’t scream flighty, exuberant or impulsive. This was her night to prove to Devon that she was the consummate hostess and perfect complement to him.
Her dress was, as she’d been assured, the perfect little black dress. Ridiculous as it sounded, it was the first such dress that Ashley had owned. For Ashley, wearing black was the equivalent of going to a funeral. It made her feel subdued and swallowed up. Somber. She much preferred brighter, more cheerful colors.
As for her hair, she never paid much attention to it and wore it down more often than not, or she just flipped it up in a clip and went on her way.
But Tabitha had spent an hour fashioning an elegant knot, without a hair out of place. Pippa had grumbled that it made her look forty and not the young twenty-something she was.
Carly had applied light makeup using muted shades and Ashley wore pale lip gloss instead of her usual shiny pink. The perfect accompaniment to the dress and hair were the pearls her grandmother had given her before she passed away two years ago.
She wore a simple strand around her neck and a tiny cluster at her ears.
Ashley thought she looked perfect. She just hoped everyone else did as well and that she could pull off the evening with a smile.
Across the room, the jazz ensemble played. Waiters circled the room, offering hors d’oeuvres and a choice of white and red wines. Two bartenders manned the open bar and in addition to the appetizers offered by the waiters, there was an elegant buffet arranged by the far wall.
Lights were strung in the fake potted trees, making the room look festive and bright. Flickering candles illuminated centerpieces of fresh flowers on each table.
Ashley had fretted endlessly over all the arrangements until she was sure she was spouting menu choices in her sleep. She’d tasted each and every one of the appetizers, wrinkling her nose at some, loving others. She’d made Pippa accompany her, though, because Pippa’s tastes were more refined. Ashley was pickier and more apt to turn her nose up at fine cuisine.
Now the moment had arrived and though she kept telling herself that these people didn’t matter to her and that they were her father’s and Devon’s associate
s, she couldn’t shake the paralyzing fear that she’d make some huge mistake and embarrass herself and her husband in front of everyone.
“Ashley, there you are,” Pippa said as she made her way through the growing crowd.
“Oh, my God, I’m so glad you’re here,” Ashley said. “Thank you for coming. I’m a nervous wreck.”
Pippa frowned. “Ash, there’s no reason for you to be so worked up over this. It’s a party. Loosen up. Have some fun. Let your hair down from that godawful bun.”
Ashley let out a shaky laugh. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t facing a hundred of your husband’s closest business associates.”
Pippa rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s go get a drink.”
Ashley let Pippa lead her over to the bar but when they got there, Ashley ordered water. Pippa raised an eyebrow and Ashley sighed.
“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” Ashley whispered. “Don’t you dare say a word to anyone, okay? I haven’t told anyone I even suspect I might be pregnant. I took one of those damn home pregnancy tests and it was inconclusive but I haven’t had my period yet and I’m sure I’m late. So until I know, I don’t want to drink anything.”
“What time is your appointment?” Pippa demanded.
“Ten in the morning.”
“Okay, then here’s what’s going to happen. Carly, Tabitha and I are going to wait for you at Oscar’s and you’re going to come straight over for lunch after your appointment so you can tell us the news one way or another.”
Ashley nodded. “Okay. I’ll need the support regardless of the outcome. I’m kind of undecided about this whole thing.”
Pippa blinked in surprise. “You mean you aren’t sure you want to be pregnant?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know,” she said miserably.
“Ash, what the hell is going on with you lately? All you’ve ever wanted is to have children.”
Ashley bit her lip in consternation as she saw Devon making his way toward her. “Look, I can’t talk about it now. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow after my appointment. And don’t breathe a word! I haven’t told anyone. Not even Dev.”
Pippa looked at her oddly but went silent as Devon approached.
“There you are,” Devon said when he got to the two women. He kissed Pippa’s cheek in greeting and then tucked Ashley’s hand in his. “If you don’t mind, Pippa, I’m going to steal my wife for a bit. There are some people I want her to meet.”
Pippa leaned over to kiss Ashley’s cheek. “See you tomorrow,” she whispered softly. “Take care of yourself.”
Ashley smiled her thanks and allowed Devon to lead her away. For the next hour, she smiled and quietly listened as Devon introduced her around and discussed things she had no clue about. But she pretended interest and glued herself to his every word, nodding when she thought it was appropriate.
Her headache had worked itself down her neck until it hurt to even move it. Her cheeks ached from the permanent smile and her feet were killing her.
The old Ashley would have kicked off her shoes, pulled her hair down and found someone to talk with about things she understood. Finding or starting conversation was never difficult for her.
The new Ashley was going to survive this night even if it killed her.
Devon seemed appreciative of her effort. He’d told her she looked beautiful and he’d smiled at her often as he took her from group to group. Maybe she had imagined it or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part but she’d sworn she saw pride reflected in those golden eyes of his.
“Stay right here,” Devon said as he parked her on the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor. “I have to find your father. He’s announcing his retirement tonight.”
She nodded and dutifully stood where he’d left her even though her feet were about to throb right off her legs and her head hurt so bad her vision was fuzzing.
She was careful to wear a smile and not let her discomfort show. Instead she turned her thoughts to the possibility of her being pregnant.
It was true she’d lived the past week in denial. She hadn’t entertained the thought. Hadn’t wanted to think about it because if she acknowledged the possibility, then she had to consider the reality of her marriage and whether she was ready to bring a child into such uncertainty.
The previous night with Devon had been… Her smile faltered and she quickly recovered. It had been wonderful. But what was it exactly? Sex? Lust? It couldn’t be considered making love. Not when he didn’t love her.
He’d been exceedingly tender. She was still embarrassed that she’d lost control of her emotions and cried in front of him. It felt manipulative and she still worried that the only reason he’d had sex with her was because she’d been upset and he wanted to comfort her.
He’d left for work this morning before she’d awakened. She’d overslept—another reason she suspected she was pregnant. She was so tired that some days it was all she could do to remain upright. Twice she’d succumbed to the urge to take a nap simply because she would have lapsed into unconsciousness otherwise.
So she hadn’t been able to gauge his mood after they had sex. She had no idea if it changed anything or nothing at all. And she hated the uncertainty. Hated not knowing her place in the world or in this relationship.
Devon had been good to her. He’d been kind. But she didn’t want good or