Enraptured Page 3

  I took a deep breath as I watched him stalk back to the bar and pour himself another drink. He killed it in one swallow, before putting his shirt back around his shoulders and leaving the room to find solace, or distraction, with his friends.

  Chapter Three

  I woke to the sun streaming through the netted fabric surrounding the bed, and the rhythmic sound of the waves hitting the shore. As I blinked myself back into consciousness, I realized the heavy weight across my waist was Drew’s arm, draped protectively across my middle. He was completely naked as he dozed next to me, but I supposed the white gold band around his finger entitled him that right if nothing else. I eased up into a sitting position, and the nausea hit just like Old Faithful. Worse, I had to climb over Drew to get to the crackers and the pitcher of water on his side of the bed. I gently nudged him onto his back to reach for the crackers, and he groaned in his sleep as he pulled me into a tight embrace.

  “Rachel,” he murmured, half-asleep.

  I fought another powerful wave of nausea. “I need some water, Drew.”

  “I need you,” he murmured as he ran his hand along the curve of my hip.

  “I’m sick,” I insisted in a shaky voice that must have convinced him I was telling the truth.

  He wiped his eyes as he pulled himself from his sleepy stupor. “Lay back,” he instructed as he sat up to pour me a glass of water. I slumped back against the pillows and watched as he opened the package of crackers.

  He was naked and playing my nursemaid. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. “Well, this is romantic. I guess this is why you get married first, then pregnant,” I quipped as he handed me a few bland crackers to chew.

  He smiled. “Perhaps.” He snuggled up next to me, his hand light against my tummy. “But I wouldn’t change it,” he said as his thumb brushed softly against my skin. “I can’t think of a mother more perfect for my child. My children,” he added.

  I couldn’t help but melt a little at his words. I had longed to hear them for so long. The contrasts with my first husband, Zach, were night and day, and that didn’t have one thing to do with the money. I could have been in a trailer, with barely enough money in the bank to make the rent. As long as I had someone who wanted my child as much as I did, who shared the journey with as much anticipation and awe, I was the richest woman in the world. I placed my hand on his. “Thank you, Drew.”

  His eyes met mine. There was a catch in his voice as he said, “No, my darling. Thank you.”

  When he reached for a kiss, I didn’t deny him. His palm spread against my stomach, as if channeling the affection to our tiny offspring. There was true concern in his eyes as he pulled back. “Still feel queasy?”

  “A little,” I admitted, and he handed me a few more crackers. He cuddled me close as I fought back the ebb and flow of nausea one tiny cracker at a time. He stroked my hair with his hand, periodically placing soft kisses on my forehead.

  It was the first morning in a long time I wasn’t running to the toilet for an hour of misery as my body struggled to cope with all the new changes taking place within it.

  We made it to the dining room in time for brunch. Troy gave Drew some good natured ribbing about our late rising, which he neither confirmed nor denied. My new husband merely smiled and draped an arm possessively around my shoulders.

  We were married in the eyes of the world, even if we had yet to consummate our union. No one around us would have been any the wiser with his attentive, affectionate behavior. We sailed around the island in Troy’s luxury yacht, named Paradise Lost, proudly boasting its very own Cayman Islands flag. I concealed my smirk as I thought about the lessons I could teach young Master Jonathan about the Cayman Islands, and the kind of people who might keep their money there. I was certainly right in their midst as they drank bottle after bottle of champagne, while I chugged ginger ale like it was the elixir of life.

  I was up on deck getting some fresh air when our fine host, Troy De Havilland found me. “Are you all right?” he asked as he inspected my pale complexion.

  “I probably should have stayed on solid ground,” I offered with a grimace.

  He joined me on the bench where I sat. “Ah, but then it wouldn’t have been as much fun,” he crooned with that charming smile that had won him election after election. “You are like a ray of sunshine, Rachel. It pleases me greatly that you are now part of our family.” He glanced out at the ocean. “That is who Drew is to us, you understand. He takes care of us and we take care of him. It’s a very elite club and we don’t let just anyone in.” He patted my hand. “I knew from the moment we met you would polish his rough edges.” His touch lingered. “You’re a woman who is unafraid to be soft. And that is a beautiful thing.”

  I pulled my hand back. “Thank you,” was all I could offer.

  He regarded the gesture thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t point out how cruel our world can be. It’s important to make the right kind of friends because we look out for each other. And we reward loyalty handsomely.”

  My eyebrow arched. “And for those who don’t?”

  He chuckled deep in his throat, and those picture-perfect blue eyes turned icy. “I’m sure you won’t have to worry about that, my dear. You are a smart woman, after all.”

  “Am I?” I mused as I took another drink from the crystal flute of ginger ale I nursed.

  “Obviously,” he drawled easily. “In just two years, you’ve gone from a childless, middle-class teacher to one of the most important people in the Fullerton family. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  I glared at him as I straightened my spine. “What exactly are you implying?”

  He chuckled again as he patted my hand with a firmer touch. “No offense intended, of course. I certainly never bought into the gold-digging rumors, persistent though they were.” I tried to pull my hand back but he held my fingers in a firm grip. “In my line of work, reputation is everything. I’ve personally seen it make and break careers for almost two decades.” He allowed my hand to slip from his fingers. “Your husband is poised to begin a new and exciting phase in his life. I just would like to be sure that as his wife, you are committed to supporting him as he does what is necessary to fulfill his family’s long-term goals.”

  I straightened my shoulders. “Rest assured that I will do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

  Our eyes met and held as he processed the meaning of my words. There was no love lost and he had to know that, even if he was on his best behavior the rest of the evening. Their stay on the island was coming to an end the following day, which was a huge relief. I hated the pretense and the subtle innuendo that drove most conversations we had. There was a familiarity there that discomforted me, as though by marrying Drew I had been unknowingly inducted into their little club with its undefined ownership privileges.

  When we all danced in the sand that night, and I was forced to share more than one aggravatingly close embrace with the good senator, I couldn’t escape to our private suite fast enough. I felt like I had to keep an eye over my shoulder to ensure he wouldn’t follow.

  When I mentioned it to Drew that night, he dismissed my concerns easily. “He’s perfectly harmless, I assure you,” he said with a knowing smirk.

  “I’m not so sure his constituents would agree,” I pointed out. “Especially when he’s voted against measures to help the least among them rise above their meager circumstances.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You sound just like Alex.”

  My response was quiet. “I don’t consider that the insult that you intend it to be.”

  His eyes were hard as he glanced me over. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe Troy senses on some level that your loyalty is divided. Your comments about Teton Tech were certainly enough to give him pause.” Before I could argue my case, he held up a hand. “But that’s a topic for another time.”

  He walked around the sofa where I sat and perched on the other end. “There’s also some history t
here, Rachel. He feels compelled to protect me because he was there throughout my tumultuous relationship with Elise. He warned me ahead of time that she could not be trusted. She showed him her true colors before I even knew there was an issue.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Elise is a beautiful woman. She has only one true currency, and that’s her sex appeal. Alex may have been her first affair, but he wasn’t her first target.”

  His confession reminded me of what Sloane had said about Elise. “She’s a climber, always has been.”

  “So this was another test,” I surmised and he shrugged again.

  “He wants to be sure I don’t walk into another buzz saw,” he explained. “You’ve already left me once.”

  I sighed. “Fair enough. But it’s your ring I wear on my finger, Drew. I made my choice.”

  “That’s what she said once upon a time,” he murmured softly, which silenced my argument. “The rumors were not kind once you left. And to be fair, neither Troy nor Sloane got to know you very well before you went back to Texas last year.” He reached for a tendril of my hair that curved around my cheek. “You’re not the only one who needs a little time to figure things out.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. It was disheartening to realize that I would never fully shake the reputation of being a gold-digger, and it was somehow my burden to bear to prove it wasn’t true.

  To Drew’s credit, he treated me with the utmost respect through every social interaction, which helped ease that burden. I thought perhaps that might end once our hosts left, but Drew remained on his best behavior. He suggested a walk around the island that following afternoon, before leaving me to nap once we returned to the villa. It was Drew and not Chantale who brought me a late afternoon snack, and he even rubbed my calves and my feet while I read a bit in bed before the sun went down.

  We ate dinner by candlelight on the terrace, where the staff stayed mostly to the shadows to tend our needs as unobtrusively as possible.

  He made no demands. He was charming and funny and delightful as we discussed all those things we had somehow missed over our chaotic courtship. We talked about movies and music, books and art. I swirled my constant companion, my ginger ale, around in my glass. “Why didn’t you tell me your mother was an artist?” I finally asked.

  He looked down into his own wine glass. “I don’t know,” he answered at last. “Habit, I suppose. I generally don’t speak of my parents at all. The past is usually better off left exactly where it is, well behind us for a reason.”

  I said nothing. I just watched the emotions cross his face and waited.

  “We can’t change what is done,” he continued softly, “only how we move forward. And I wanted to spare Jonathan the expectations of all the generations that came before him. That’s an awful lot of weight to put on a little boy’s shoulders.”

  “You should know,” I said softly.

  He shrugged. He wasn’t as bitter as Alex. Instead he was resigned. “My father came from a different time. Things were very black and white in his world.”

  “Are they not in yours?”

  His eyes met mine. “Not anymore.”

  I looked away, but he kept talking.

  “I never understood how my father could have married my mother. They were so vastly different. He was cold and calculating, she was warm and intuitive. He was business-minded and logical, she was endlessly creative and highly emotional. He was a hard core realist, while my mother was a dreamer with her beautiful head in the clouds. She lived life on another plane of how it could be, rather than how it was. I’m sure it frustrated Father on a continual basis. But he remained devoted to her until his dying breath. I think she truly completed him somehow. She softened his edges. She made him human, even when he was anything but.” He glanced away. “I was really her only project that failed in that respect. Until you came along, anyway.” His eyes glittered in the candlelight. “She would have loved you.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure I would have loved her, too. Alex said that Jonathan gets a lot of his personality from her.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I could reconsider them. The mere mention of Alex’s name caused Drew’s jaw to clench. He raised his nearly empty glass and Chantale was quick to refill it.

  “I’m sorry, Drew,” I offered softly. He quickly dismissed any apology.

  “For once Alex speaks the truth,” he murmured. “Jonathan is a lot like his grandmother. And I’ve never been able to figure out if that is his saving grace or his curse.”

  “His saving grace is that he’s his own person. He’s got this big, beautiful heart and robust, eager spirit. He’s the best of all of you combined. That’s what children are. They are perfected creatures of who we could only hope to be.”

  He smiled absently as he stared at my face, contemplating my words. “Then I cannot wait to meet our little miracle and discover the person she is meant to be.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. “You sound so certain it is going to be a girl.”

  “She would have to be,” he murmured. “To be a perfect Fullerton, she would have to be a female.” He toasted me.

  I fought a losing battle with my eyelids over dessert, so Drew walked me back to our honeymoon suite on the sand. I was a little embarrassed as he tucked me in, and more than a little apprehensive that he would attempt to seduce me once more.

  But he remained fully clothed as he lay on the bed next to me. “Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. I obeyed reluctantly. His fingers danced along my bare arms until goose bumps rose to meet the night air within our netted circle. Before I could ask him what his master plan was, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said and you’re right. I have manipulated you because that’s how I get anything in life. I play the game to win. But you’re not a game anymore, Rachel. You are my wife, bound before the law and before God. So I will honor you. If you need time, I will give you time. If you need love,” he murmured as his mouth danced above my skin, “then I will give you love.”

  I opened my eyes and found him staring deep into my face. He bent for a tender kiss, teasing my lips apart with his tongue, until he was kissing me deeply, clutching me to his hard body. I was breathless as he pulled away. “The door is still open, Rachel. It never closed. The next time you come to me, you do so knowing both what I offer and what I expect. I want a wife, in every sense of the word. I want your love, your devotion, your passion,” he said in gruff, gravelly voice before he kissed me again, stronger, harder and more demanding. He shuddered against me as he pulled away. His eyes were hard and true. “The next time you come to me, make love to me, take me into your body and into your soul, we will both know that I am the one you have chosen.”

  Before I could say anything, he pulled the covers over my body and rose from the bed. Without another word, he left me there, alone in our bed, to mull over what he had said. It felt like another game, but I was bound by my own vows to play it.

  He wanted me to choose him, but I had already done that when I stood by his side in front of a preacher. What he wanted was my heart, and that was no longer mine to give away. Alex had set me free months ago, but he had forgotten to give it back. He took it with him when he bolted to England, or wherever it was he was hiding now that he knew I had married his brother.

  But honestly their bitter competition was the least of my worries. I had children now to protect, and they were, as they had always been, my focus… far more than Drew’s overweening ego, which demanded I submit to him in every possible way.

  I wasn’t ready and he would just have to wait. Period.

  I sighed as I cuddled up to the pillows on the bed and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  The next morning I found Drew, in lounge wear, dozing on the other side of the bed, close enough to be there should I need him, but giving me enough room to feel safe and secure. The minute I stirred, he woke. He handed me the crackers and poured me a glass of water, then pulled me close so that I coul
d recline against him until the waves of nausea passed. He then brought me a small, manageable breakfast in bed before we went for another walk around the island.

  Most days passed in this fashion. Drew was affectionate without being pushy. Even his goodnight kisses, which were longer, hotter and every bit as hungry as one might expect, he always ended before things got too carried away and pressured me outside my current comfort zone. He’d escape to the office, likely to do his business remotely, and then by morning I would wake to find him beside me, his palm flat against my tummy, as we slept together next to the soothing sound of the Caribbean.

  My favorite day of our “honeymoon” was the day he brought me into the office so we could video chat with Jonathan. What surprised me more than the unexpected call was the familiar library backdrop behind my favorite little boy. He was at Alex’s ranch, and Max was hopping up and down beside him, as ecstatic to see me as I was to see the both of them. I sank into the plush leather chair with a tearful smile. “Hey, guys!”

  “Rachel! Rachel!” they said in unison, eager to tell me all the things they had been up to in the week I had been gone.

  “I’m back in school,” Max beamed proudly. “I even got a girlfriend!”

  I laughed. “You’re only four!”

  “Nuh uh!” he corrected. “I turned five,” he said, holding up five fingers, “day before yesterday.”

  “I stand corrected,” I grinned. “Happy belated birthday. Guess you’ll be getting married next, huh?”

  He giggled and blushed, and Jonathan quickly took over. “We went camping for Max’s birthday,” he said. “Mom took off to New York for the weekend, so they let me stay here. It wasn’t as fun without you, though.”