She whimpered into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, slipping his tongue between her lips, feeling the ridges of her teeth before her tongue met his. The wet velvet lit his blood on fire, and he gripped her harder, pushing against her lower back to make sure she could feel the ridge of his erection pressed against her stomach, and wondering if it was possible for her to want him half as much as he wanted her.
***
Their second kiss, in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip with a thousand anonymous witnesses, was far more intimate than the one they'd shared in the tiny chapel in front of an old man and their two closest friends. She could feel the outline of Tom's whole body against hers, and Eleanora arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest and sighing when he growled her name near her ear. His lips grazed her throat, and she leaned her head back to give him complete access, his arms tightening around her as he pressed hot little kisses to her skin, at her pulse, in the tiny cove at the base of her throat.
A couple of kids snickered as they walked by, one of them saying, "Fuck her, man!" while the other advised them to "Get a room!" and Eleanora remembered herself, placing her palms flat against Tom's chest and pushing gently. He straightened, looking down at her, his eyes dark blue and fierce.
"You're like a drug. The more I touch you, the more of you I want."
I know the feeling, she thought.
But this is only temporary, whispered her heart.
"Tom," she said, pushing against his chest with a little more force as she caught her breath. "We shouldn't."
He loosened his arms and took a step away from her, searching her face, his expression intense, almost furious. "I didn't see you coming. I didn't expect you."
"I didn't expect you either."
"What now?" he asked.
Was he hoping she'd invite him to her room or accept an invitation to his? If she slept with him, she'd know how it felt to have his body slide into hers, claim hers, love hers. She'd know the wonder of tender, loving sex with this man, with her husband. She'd know how it felt to be treasured for a brief unforgettable moment. But . . .
How, then, could she bear to return to her world? For the rest of her life, she would measure every man against Tom, and none would measure up to her beautiful, thoughtful husband of three days. She'd be ruined for happiness, and though she'd never expected much, now that she'd had a taste, she couldn't deny she wanted more. Wanting it from Tom, however, was not only unrealistic, but unfair. He'd been clear with her. She was a solution to a problem that, once resolved, would conclude their business. And her payment for services rendered was more than fair.
"I haven't seen the pool yet," she said, glancing up at the sky and blinking back the useless tears she wished away. "I bet it's lovely at night."
When she met his eyes, he quickly concealed a grimace with a quick, disingenuous smile. He was disappointed in her suggestion.
"Tom," she said gently, "it's not that I don't want to."
"Then . . .?"
"We're temporary, and I know that, but you're already in my head. I can't afford to have you in my heart too. And if I gave you my body-even for one night-I know that's where you'd end up: in my heart. And when we shake hands and walk away from each other, you'd take my heart with you. And I'd be left alone without it. I can't live without my heart, Tom." She paused, swallowing over the lump in her throat. "I can't . . . I can't let myself fall for you."
His eyes had grown progressively more stricken as she spoke, as if he understood her words so perfectly, they could have come out of his mouth just as easily.
"I understand," he said, offering her his elbow and a genuine, if sad, smile. "The pool it is."
She placed her hand on his bare arm, and the springy hairs tickled her fingers for a moment until she tightened her grip, letting him lead her around the back of the hotel through well-lit, landscaped pathways.
"Why The Swiss Family Robinson?" she asked in an effort to make conversation that would steer them to safer waters.
He chuckled softly, the noise welcome on the warm winter breeze. "I was wondering when you'd ask me about that."
"It's not an obvious choice."
He shrugged. "But it's my favorite. I think it's the main character, the oldest brother, Fritz. He's intelligent and strong, but impetuous. I always liked him."
"No wonder."
"What does that mean?"
"It sounds like you," she said, pushing a long lock of blonde hair behind her ear.
He preened internally from her praise, accepting and savoring it as they walked into the moonlight.
"But isn't it Fitz?" she asked. "Like Fitzwilliam?"
"No, Burnett," he teased. "It's Fritz with an r. A German name for a Swiss family."
"Ah." She sighed, then cocked her head, looking up at him. "But you have to admit that Fitz sounds nicer. Like Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"Mr. Darcy. You're an Austen fan."
"Show me a woman who isn't!"
He laughed again, pulling his arm away from her so that he could find his room key in his pocket and show it to the pool gate attendant. A moment later, they were afforded access to the dark, quiet patio surrounding the glowing blue pool.
"So why else is it your favorite?" she asked.
"I guess I liked the sense of adventure. The idea of living on a deserted island. And, well, if I'm honest, I loved the idea of four brothers. I grew up alone, and I would-oh, I don't know. I guess I was a little jealous of the Robinsons with all those brothers."
"I didn't know you were an only child."
Tom gestured to a double chaise by the pool's edge, and Eleanora sat down, swinging her legs up on the canvas seat as Tom sat down beside her. "Technically, I'm not. I have a little brother, my father's son from his second marriage. But he's only eighteen. We barely know each other."
"I see," she said, her voice kind and warm. "So lots of brothers sounded ideal."
"A big family sounded ideal," said Tom, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. "Still does."
"Is that what you want someday?"
"Mm-hm," he breathed softly. "A gaggle of kids so they're never lonesome, so they always have each other."
"Sounds nice," she said. "Coming from four, I always thought-well, when I thought of having a family, which wasn't very often-I always imagined it big. I don't know any different."
"A working mom?" he asked. "Managing your bookstores and a big family?"
She looked up at him and grinned. "Something like that. Maybe."
He stared into her eyes for a long time, one hand caressing her shoulder as the other reached for her face. Finally he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her gently, reverently, without the heat from their previous kiss, but with ten times the tenderness.
"I hope you get everything you want," he whispered, his breath soft against her lips. "I like you so much, Eleanora English."
"I like you too," she answered, nestling against his chest and closing her tired eyes.
In no time at all, they were asleep, held fast in each other's arms, their dreams mingling and marrying under the fathomless desert sky.
Chapter 6
When their small plane touched down in Vail the next morning and Van announced that he was staying to spend Christmas with Eve Marie, Tom wasn't certain who was more shocked-him or Eleanora.
"What are you talking about?" demanded Tom, pulling his friend aside on the tarmac as Eleanora did the same with her cousin.
Van rubbed the back of his neck. "We never . . . I mean, we meant to, you know, seal the deal last night, but we fell asleep."
"You . . . what? You fell asleep?"
Van shrugged, looking sheepish. "She was talking about Donny and Marie and how much she liked them, and . . . I don't know . . . I got to thinking if she liked them so much, I should get us a record player and a couple of their records 'cause we could dance and I'll bet she'd like that. So the concierge rustled up a few albums and brought them up. And then we were dancing and we had some Champagne, and before I knew it, I woke up next to her on the couch. Clothes still on. And the phone was ringing because you and Ellie were already waiting for us downstairs."
"I've never known you to blow a sure thing like this. Should I be worried?" asked Tom, smirking at his friend and vastly enjoying Van's obvious discomfort.
"Nah." Van looked over at Eve Marie, who was gesticulating wildly as she told her cousin a similar, if more enthusiastic, version of the story, and Tom noted how his friend's face softened as he looked at her. "Listen, my folks already left for our ski house in Stratton, and Ellie's going back East with you, so I just thought I may as well, I don't know, keep her company. Stick around for a few more days."