The Millionaire's Marriage Demand(22)

She dropped the menu and said in a rush, "You haven't as much as touched  me since we got here. I thought you'd changed your mind. That you  regretted bringing me here."

Nothing could be further from the truth. He reached over and covered her  fingers with his, feeling them curl into his palm. "I didn't want to  grab you the minute we walked in the door."

"I noticed that."

"I figured I should show a little subtlety this time."

"So is it chocolate mousse or me?" she asked, her dark lashes falling to hide her eyes.

He pushed back his chair, still holding her by the hand. "I'll tell the waiter to put this on our room account …  let's go."

"We shouldn't run. It wouldn't look good."

In a voice pitched for her ears alone, he said, "I want you, Julie, don't ever doubt that."

"It's mutual," she said with a dazzling smile that took his breath away.

They didn't actually run to the chalet; but they held hands the whole  way, and once they were indoors Travis took Julie in his arms and kissed  her with a passionate and protracted intensity that she more than  matched. Hastily he detached himself to draw the blinds, watching her  kick off her sandals and pull her dress over her head. He'd bought her  lace underwear; wondering if his heart could force its way out of his  chest, he saw how the sweet curves of her breasts were cupped in the  delicate fabric. "Every time I see you," he said huskily, "I can't get  over how beautiful you are."

She walked toward him, holding herself proudly under his gaze, the slim  lines of her thighs pale in the dusk. "Make love to me, Travis," she  said.

He took her by the waist, pulling her toward his hips, where it was more  than obvious that he was ready for her. Had he ever known with such  certainty that he was exactly where he wanted to be? More than that, he  was with the one woman who could fill an inner loneliness he'd scarcely  known was his. He pushed this thought aside to examine later, and with  all the skill he possessed set out to make Julie as happy to be here as  he was.                       
       
           



       

Later, when Travis looked back on a weekend he knew he'd never forget,  there were images that rose in his mind. Julie seducing him in the  nightgown he'd bought her, which clung to all her curves and almost  bared her breasts. Julie wearing nothing at all, holding out her arms to  him in the big bed. The play of expression on her face. The soft,  intimate sound of her breathing in the middle of the night, as she slept  curled into his body. Her laughter. Her grace. Her sudden tears after a  lovemaking as elemental as a cyclone …

They made it to the dining room for Saturday lunch and Sunday breakfast.  Once, they walked on the beach for fifteen minutes. The rest of the  time they spent in the chalet, ordering room service when they realized  they were hungry for something other than each other. They talked very  little, letting their bodies speak for them. If Travis thought about it  at all, he must have decided subliminally to leave the subject of  Julie's parents for another time. He and Julie were building a  foundation for the future; any discussions would be better based on that  foundation.

He had no idea what he meant by that vague word future.

On Sunday morning after they'd made love in the tub, splashing rather a  lot of water on the floor in the process, he said, "I wish we could stay  all week …  I'm not ready to go home."

She gave a lazy chuckle. "I'm going back to work to rest up."

"Can't take the pace, huh?"

"You're too much for me."

"Haven't heard you complaining."

She swiped at his chest with the towel, her smile fading. "This has been  a perfect weekend, Travis. But we do have to go back to normal."

He captured her hand in his. "I've got meetings tomorrow night that I  can't get out of. But why don't you come to my place on Tuesday after  work?"

She brought their linked hands to her cheek, closing her eyes. "I can't get enough of you," she said faintly.

"I'm not going to vanish the minute we leave here, Julie."

So he'd understood, she thought slowly. "This has been so magical, how  can we possibly transpose it to our ordinary lives?" she said with a  touch of desperation.

"We can. And we will."

The dark hair on his chest was sleek as a seal's pelt. She laid her  other palm over his heart, feeling its steady pounding against her skin.  "Tuesday night," she said with attempted levity. "It's a date. And now I  guess I'd better get some clothes on. I'll wear the other dress, the  one I haven't tried yet."

"It's the color of the ocean where I first saw you," Travis said.

Her lashes flickered. Once again, in a few words, he'd pierced her to  the heart. She walked back into the bedroom, pulled on her underwear and  slipped the dress over her head. Then she stood still, trying to  memorize her surroundings. A sun-drenched room with the sound of waves  and the soft whisper of pine boughs coming through the open windows. And  a bed in which she'd found a happiness she hadn't known existed.

How was she going to bear leaving here?

She wanted to stay forever.





CHAPTER TWELVE





By Monday evening, Julie wasn't sure about anything. In the middle of  the night, she'd woken up in her three-quarter bed reaching for Travis;  he hadn't, of course, been there. But rather than waking to memories of  the bliss she'd experienced in his arms, she'd instantly been suffused  by a cold anxiety that she couldn't dispel, no matter how many parakeets  she counted.

Yes, it had been a fabulous weekend. The ultimate getaway with a  handsome, sexy man. But one weekend didn't make a relationship; had  nothing to do with permanence. While she was almost sure Travis wanted  to keep on seeing her, what did she want?

She didn't want commitment. She certainly didn't want marriage. So why  was she even contemplating seeing him again? Wasn't she getting deeper  into trouble every time they got together?

Or did she just want a series of wild weekends that were utterly  divorced from her normal life? Even she could see that wouldn't work,  not with a man like Travis.

Eventually Julie went back to sleep, the alarm waking her from dreams  that left her feeling frazzled and exhausted. She worked all day, caught  the bus home and had leftovers for supper. The apartment seemed very  empty without Travis and tomorrow evening an age away.                       
       
           



       

But she didn't want intimacy. She didn't.

Even if she scarcely knew what it was.

With an impatient sigh Julie changed her clothes and went out for a  walk. She crossed the cobblestone street, her brow furrowed in thought.  Travis had suggested she sleep at his place last night; but she'd  demurred. He was moving too quickly for her, she needed time alone, one  by one she'd trotted out all the clichés. She believed every one of  them. So why did she miss him so unceasingly?

Then her steps slowed. Consciously or unconsciously, she'd been walking  in the direction of her parents' street. She might as well drop in.  Considering everything that had happened to her since last Friday, she  might even see them with new eyes.

It was worth a try. But when she climbed the front steps of the freshly  painted bungalow and rang the doorbell, there was no answer; her  father's car was gone from the driveway. They'd probably be back soon.  She'd been wanting to go through some of her old books in the attic in  order to reread a couple of them; now was as good a time as any. She let  herself in with the key her mother had given her, and went straight  upstairs. The attic was very warm, and rather less tidy than the rest of  Pearl's domain.

Which box had the books been stored in? And why hadn't she labeled it?  Julie started opening boxes at random, finding sets of old dishes, all  her father's account books for the last twenty years, and then a box of  old photo albums. She picked up the first album, suddenly curious. Below  it, facedown, was a gold-framed photograph. Carefully Julie lifted it  out and turned it over.

It was a wedding photo of a young couple, the bride in a slim-fitting  white dress with a trailing bouquet of roses, the groom lean and  handsome in a tuxedo. The bride's arm was tucked confidingly into her  new husband's, his hand lying protectively over hers; they were both  smiling radiantly into the camera.

It took Julie a full ten seconds to realize that the two people in the  photograph were her parents. The groom was Thomas, the bride Pearl.

She sat back on her heels, staring at the two faces with strained  intensity. They looked so carefree, so joyful. More than that, she  realized, as all her new knowledge came to the fore, they looked  physically close, their body language speaking of the bed they would  share that night.