Chapter 6 #2
When the door closed behind her, he contemplated briefly just persuading her to stay inside so he could make love to her. But her very effective ploy aside, he knew that she had been deprived of simple pleasure growing up in that home and could not deny her this one.
Sighing deeply, he shoved off the bed and set about getting ready to face the icy cold.
The things we do for love, he thought wryly as he stepped into the shower.
*****
He had to admit that her insane plan was spot on. The snow was slowly drifting from the sky, turning everything into a blanket of white that was remarkable to see.
She had presented him with a huge to-go cup of coffee that he sipped with slow precision. He had no idea how long she wanted them to stay outdoors, and it had to last him the duration of the walk.
But he was enjoying the briskness of the air and specifically the woman who had her gloved hand in his.
"I remember staring out the single window of the tiny room I shared with two other girls," she mused as they made their way toward the frozen lake.
"I used to dream that my mother would come for me and she would have some very valid reasons why she had left me there in the first place.
" She laughed softly, not a hint of bitterness in her voice.
"She would burst through the doors, crying and apologetic and on her knees as she hugged me.
And she would explain that she had been forced to give me up because a bad man had made her.
She had escaped, clawing her way through a locked room so that she could come back for me.
" She shrugged, shaking her head at the look on his face.
"You never told me that before." Drawing her into the gazebo, he put his cup aside so he could rub his hands up and down her arms.
"It just surfaced. Seeing the snow and the freedom of walking through it without having a bunch of laws laid down just brought it all back. There was this mean girl. Her name was Billy. She was Wilhelmina, but she preferred to be called Billy. She was huge and angry all the time.
"She would make our lives a living hell, sniping and cussing at us. She threatened to put a knife through me, and I remembered being so scared that I would sit at the window afraid to sleep."
"Where the hell were the people in charge?"
"The home was underfunded and understaffed. I'm not making excuses for them. They were lazy-ass employees, and the administrator was a very unsightly woman who was overweight and mean as hell. I would go to her, and she would promise to 'look into it.' She never did."
His fingers bit into the soft cashmere of her jacket. "Where is this Wilhelmina now, and the goddamned administrator of that hellhole?"
Eliza had to bite back a smile at the furious look on his face.
She had glossed over the story of the time she had spent at the home, mostly because she hadn't wanted to burden him with her past issues, and partly because she had been intimidated by the fact that he was from a very old and established family.
"I took care of it myself. When I started making money, I went back. Mrs. Hall, that's her name. She was still there, old, decrepit, and still mean. I reminded her who I was and told her to resign before she was forced to. I also threatened to bring criminal charges against her."
His fury evaporated to be replaced by a look of sheer admiration.
"What did she say?"
"Oh, she sputtered and simpered a hell of a lot, but in the end, she left. I invested some money in the place, and they had a complete makeover. Wilhelmina died in a drive-by shooting two years after she left the home."
His hands moved up to cradle her neck. "So, there's basically nothing for me to do to avenge you."
"It's sweet you wanted to." She moved into him, locking her arms around his waist.
He gazed at her striking face thoughtfully, admiring the satiny skin and the shape of her eyes.
"You kept most of it from me. I recalled reading some of it in the press.
The tabloids had a field day with the fact that America's favorite detective grew up on the streets and could actually fight.
" Amusement colored his deep voice. "When I first read it, I thought it was publicity hype your PR put out there to keep the public's interest at peak level.
Many others in your position would have found a pretty story to replace the ugliness. But not you."
She shook her head with a laugh. "Sally thought about that for the space of five minutes and wanted to persuade me to swing another way.
But I wanted no pretense. People were either going to accept me for who I am or not at all.
But then when I met you and started having these feelings, I wondered if I should have swung the other way. "
"I never cared about any of that," he assured her gruffly.
"All I saw was this breathtakingly beautiful woman with a talent I happen to admire, a woman who caught my interest at the very first glance.
" Tilting her face up, he brushed his lips against hers.
"And now, my lovely wife, it's time to go back in.
" He jerked his head at the snow that was now coming down rapidly.
"The fire calls, and I do believe I was promised an entire day of lovemaking."
"So, I believe."
A few hours later, they were sated with a meal and a slow and thorough bout of lovemaking.
The fire blazed and crackled in the large hearth.
Samuel felt the unfamiliar air of contentment stealing over him as he held his wife in his arms. The snow was coming down, but inside, the warmth and coziness was something he cherished.
His life was frenetic. He liked it like that, or that was what he preferred. He had been dubbed 'the exacting producer with ice water running through his veins' by the press. He did not mind the unflattering description. His reputation got the job done.
He loved his work. He was aware that a lot of pressure was on him to take over the company, but he was not ready for that yet.
He would do so in due course. There wasn't any doubt that he would step into his father's shoes when the time came.
But for now, he loved taking a script and bringing it to life.
That was before he met Eliza. Five years ago, she had bowled him over with her beauty. He had fought it tooth and nail, of course, but had been unable to resist the path it took him.
Tipping his head down, he stared at her, his heart in his eyes. If any of his associates saw him now, they would have been shocked. Eliza had changed him. That was what he had been afraid of. She had made him vulnerable, at least where she was concerned.
And she was fast asleep. He had made love to her tirelessly as if he could not get enough of her. And the fact was, he couldn't. He wanted her all the time.
Closing his eyes, he drew her closer and drifted off, her scent in his nostrils.
*****
"Thank you for this," she said quietly as they finished up the meal of chicken and dumplings. It was their last night at the cottage, and tomorrow they would be heading out, back to the real world, where she was dreading that her dream was going to be dashed. "You were right."
"Of course I was. About what specifically?" He was keeping it light for as long as possible because he knew she was feeling sad.
"About us coming here, spending a week away from it all. From the press, from the pressures we face every day." Picking up her wine, she took a sip, expression pensive. "I enjoyed every minute of it."
"Especially when you forced me to go for that long drive with the windows down."
"It was fun." Her smile did not reach her eyes.
Putting down his glass, he took her hand and tugged her around so she was sitting on his lap. They had decided to eat in front of the fireplace, where he had spread the blankets and heaped them with cushions.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing."
He merely raised his brows and waited.
Sighing, she avoided his eyes by staring at the strong column of his throat. The past week had been magical and perfect, so much so that she dreaded going back to where it could all go wrong. For the second time in their marriage, her husband had put aside his work and just concentrated on her.
She knew how important and powerful he was.
It had been brought to her attention, the enormous amount of things he got done.
And it staggered her. For him to put them all aside for one week was a supreme sacrifice on his part.
She did not want to spoil their last evening at the cottage with her usual worries.
She wanted a perfect ending to a perfect week.
"Eliza?"
"I'm dreading going back."
"Why?"
Lifting her head, she stared at his beloved face, taking in every detail. He wasn't strikingly handsome. His face was too harsh, his chin too stubborn. But he had character stamped in every line. "I want this to continue. This place that we're in now, I love it."
"So do I."
"When we get back, you will be caught up with your work, and that's who you are-" she hastened to add.
"And I will be agonizing over whether or not I will have children.
" She placed a long finger over his lips.
"I want us to promise each other that no matter how distracted or how busy we become or even pressured, we will find time for each other. There will be no neglect."
He cupped her face between his palms, expression sober. "That's a promise I intend to keep."