Authors: Beverly Barton
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General
"How did you hurt your back?" she asked.
He paused halfway up the stairs, but didn't turn around. "A horse and I had a little disagreement. That's why I came home early today. So I could take it easy and rest up. And I foolishly hoped my wife would give me a little TLC."
"Did you see a doctor?" Donna took a few tentative steps upward toward her husband. "It looks really bad."
"No need to see a doctor. It'll probably be sore for a couple of days, but it looks worse than it is." Jake continued his climb.
Donna slumped down on the stairs, rested her elbows on her knees and lowered her chin to her folded hands. How had her life come to this? Her nerves were shot. Her mind was a mixed-up jumble. And despite the fact that Jake had embarrassed her shamelessly, a part of her wanted to go upstairs to check on his injured back. The man already had a hold on her, one she knew she had to break free from soon or she'd never be able to escape. Her mind had warned her that becoming lovers with Jake was dangerous, but her traitorous body had succumbed to him time and again.
He's given you the perfect excuse to end things
—
now! All you have to do is go upstairs and tell him that you aren't going to have sex with him again, and until your divorce, he has to sleep in another bedroom. You know this is the only way! Do it now, while you're still angry with him.
Jake flung his briefs onto the tiled floor, turned on the faucets and stepped into the shower. Every muscle in his body ached from having been thrown from that damn unruly stallion. Tension tightened his muscles and jangled his nerves. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry. He'd seen red—literally as well as figuratively—when he'd heard his wife's snobby friends' comments and realized that she wasn't going to defend him.
That damn group of holier-than-thou blue-blooded bitches! How could someone as warmhearted and caring as Donna be friends with a bunch of harpies like that? They judged men by their bank accounts and college degrees. And they thought Donna had made the biggest mistake of her life by marrying him!
What hurt him the most wasn't the unkind things those catty shrews had said, but the fact that Donna hadn't said a word in his defense. Was it possible that despite all her reassurances to the contrary, she actually agreed with her high-society friends?
A man like that! Uneducated, penniless cowboy! Wild man! Bad boy!
Their shrill voices reverberated inside his head, damning him as the worthless piece of trash his grandfather had once accused him of being.
They had implied that not only was he unsuitable to be Donna's husband, but that he was unfit to be Louisa's father.
Limit his visitation rights!
Jake picked up a bar of soap and briskly lathered his chest and arms, then scrubbed the dirt and grime from his body.
Nobody was going to limit his visitation rights! Sugar Baby was his pride and joy. He adored her and she him. Surely, Donna wouldn't pay any attention to that bunch of snobs. She had promised him six months to bond with his daughter and unlimited visitation rights in the future. If he had his way, the marriage wouldn't end come December and he'd get the chance to be a full-time father to his child.
The very thought of having Sugar Baby cut out of his life soured his stomach. Once he had cleaned up enough to walk on Donna's spotless floors, he was going to have a talk with the lady and get a few things straight.
Maybe he had acted like a macho jerk and embarrassed the hell out of her. So what? Hadn't that been his intention when he'd strutted into the living room? In retrospect, he wasn't sure he'd had any intentions, that he'd actually thought things through at all. He had acted purely on instinct, like a wounded animal striking out at his attackers. When he'd overheard those women talking about him, he'd been so sure Donna would jump to his defense, so sure she would sing his praises. But she hadn't said a word. She'd sat there and let them slander her husband.
Jake lathered and scrubbed and repeated the process twice. God, his back hurt like hell and he was probably going to be sore for several days! He supposed he should have gone to the emergency room and gotten a shot for the pain, but he had—foolishly—thought Donna would take care of him when he came home.
Bishop, you're an idiot! You're not really her husband. You're just a temporary fixture around here. When are you going to get it through your head that the lady doesn't want you in her life on a permanent basis? She doesn't think you're good enough for her!
The truth of those words rang in his ears as he stepped out of the shower, dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist.
You're good enough to be a six-month husband to legitimize her daughter and save her job, he told himself. You're even good enough to be her lover. But you'll never be good enough for her to love.
"Jake?" Donna called from the bedroom.
He flung open the bathroom door. Donna stared at him, taking him in from head to toe. Before she could mask her desire, he saw the hunger in her eyes and knew she wanted him. That's the way it always was between them—they might not be in love, but they sure couldn't get enough of each other.
"We need to talk." Donna's gaze raked him from shoulders to knees. "I'll go check on Louisa while you put on some clothes."
"I peeped in the nursery before I took my shower and she was sound asleep."
"Then I'll wait out in the hall."
"Why so formal, sugar? You've seen me naked every night for the past three weeks." He loosened the towel from his waist and dropped it to the floor. "You've been touching and licking and kissing—"
Jerking around quickly, she turned her back on him. "Becoming lovers again was a big mistake. I should have known—"
Jake came up behind her, grabbed her shoulders and lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "You should have known that your friends wouldn't approve of me. You should have known that I could never be worthy of being your real husband, of taking the place of a man like Edward Fields."
"You could never take Edward's place."
Jake whirled her around so that she faced him. He released her and said, "Yeah, I know. Edward was a saint. A perfect gentleman, an extraordinary husband, and you'll always love him."
No, no!
Donna wanted to scream.
I
don't love Edward. I had to learn how to stop loving in order to survive. Edward doesn't stand between us. The pain of losing him is what will prevent me from ever loving another man
—
even someone as wonderful as you.
Jake glared at her, his dark eyes black with rage. "Edward isn't flesh and blood, sugar. I am. He can't hold you in his arms and kiss you and make love to you. But I can. And even if you still think you're in love with your dead husband, I know that you want me as much as I want you."
"No, Jake. Not this time." Donna started backing away from him. "Sex isn't going to fix this. It won't change anything."
He stalked her, his movements panther-like in their slow precision. When he backed her up against the wall, he braced his hands on either side of her head. "No matter what your fancy friends think of me and no matter how you lie to yourself, you're my woman and we both know it!"
He grabbed the back of her head. She gasped. Her eyes widened into large circles when he speared his fingers into her hair. He cupped her hip and tugged her up against his arousal.
"I don't want this," she said, her voice breathless.
"Sure you do." He ground his hardness against her mound and smiled devilishly when she moaned.
"Jake. Please." She tried to move away from him, but he tightened his hold on her hair. She cried out. He slipped his arm around her waist and pressed her breasts against his chest.
"Haven't you punished me enough?" she asked. "You embarrassed me in front of my friends. Wasn't that revenge enough for—"
He ran the tip of his tongue over her lips. She sucked in her breath. He eased his big hand up her thigh, lifting her skirt to her hips and caressing her buttocks. He pulled her face up into his, plunged his tongue into her mouth and devoured her lips. She squirmed and wriggled. Refusing to release her, he held her tightly, fiercely, possessively.
Her mind fought against him, but her body ceased the battle and responded. She slid her arms around him, returned his kiss and made no further protest when he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the room to the bed. He ripped the clothes from her body in a sensual fury, all the while telling her in the crudest terms exactly what he was going to do to her.
When he came down over her, his mouth seeking her breast, she bucked up to meet him and cried out as he entered her with one swift lunge. He set the pace—fast and furious. She quickly picked up the beat. Nothing mattered. Not Jake's sore back. Not Donna's common sense. Not the fact that they didn't love each other. Not the knowledge that sex couldn't solve their problems.
The only thing that mattered was satisfying the raging hunger inside them.
They mated with an untamed fury, giving and taking, loving and being loved. The tension inside them built steadily with each thrust, each bump, each heated word, each biting kiss, until they were both wild with the need for
fulfillment. Donna's body tightened. She cried out her plea
sure when release rocketed through her body. Jake pumped into her with jackhammer speed. His climax claimed him with an intensity that drained him completely. He fell onto Donna, then tumbled her over and pulled her against his side. She clung to him as the aftershocks of completion echoed through her body.
"Now, tell me that you don't want me," Jake said.
Nine
Donna lay in Jake's arms, relaxed and content, completely sated from their heated lovemaking. Her mind began to function just enough for her to question her own sanity. What had she done? Instead of ending her physical relationship with Jake, she'd had sex with him again. Now it would be twice as difficult to ask him to move out of her bedroom. Just as she forced herself to move, a boisterous cry came through the baby monitor.
Donna sat straight up in bed. "Louisa!"
Jake gently grasped her shoulders and shoved her down onto the rumpled bedspread. "I'll go get her, sugar. It won't hurt her to cry for a couple of minutes. You just take it easy."
Big, naked and gloriously male, Jake stood, rushed into the bathroom and returned a couple of minutes later wearing a pair of clean briefs. Donna watched his every move.
Even now, knowing that she had to garner the strength to
end their relationship, she found him irresistible. She loved the width of his shoulders, the muscular leanness of his big body, the thick, curly hair that covered his arms and legs and created a vee from his chest to his navel. She loved everything about Jake Bishop. Absolutely everything. And if she wasn't careful, she'd wake up one morning and find herself in love with the man.
You do not love him! You cannot love him. You've loved and lost once, and once in a lifetime is more than enough. Remember how you felt when Edward died, when you lost not only your husband, but your sanity. You promised yourself that if you ever recovered, you would never allow yourself to be hurt like that again.
Jake's voice came through the monitor on the bedside table. He was jabbering baby talk to their daughter. Her big, rugged cowboy had turned out to be a doting father, a man truly devoted to his child.
"Mama's waiting for you, Sugar Baby," Jake said. "Let Daddy change your diaper and then Mama will feed you."
Donna jumped out of bed, ran into the bathroom, washed hurriedly and searched her closet for a robe. Just as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of a yellow-and-white-striped silk robe, Jake entered the room, Louisa in his arms.
Quickly Donna tied the sash around her waist and reached out for her daughter. "Mama's girl had a good long nap, didn't she? Are you hungry, darling?"
Jake handed Louisa to her mother. "How about you? Are you hungry? I could rustle us up some supper."
"I—I'm not hungry," Donna said as she sat on the bed. She opened her robe and brought Louisa to her breast.
"I never get tired of looking at you nursing Louisa." Jake's gaze lingered on Donna's breast. "As a matter of fact. I never
set
tired of looking at you, period."
"Jake, I … well, we need to talk, but now isn't the right time."
"What do we need to talk about?" Jake opened the closet door, searched through his clothes until he found a pair of jeans, then removed them from the wire hanger and stepped into them.
"We need to discuss our relationship." Donna caressed her daughter's silky black hair.
"I don't think we need any words when it comes to
discussing
our relationship." Jake removed a black T-shirt from the chest of drawers, slipped it over his head and stuffed it into his jeans. "We communicate better on a nonverbal level."
Donna sighed, knowing Jake was right. Their bodies spoke a language that transcended verbal communication. "About what happened this afternoon—"
"Do you mean the scene with your friends or what we did afterward?" Jake grinned and winked at her as he slumped down in the wing-back chair by the windows, then put on his socks and boots.
"Both events, I suppose," she said.
"I wish I could say that I'm sorry about acting up in front of your friends, but by my estimation, they deserved what they got."
"And did I deserve it, too, Jake? Did I deserve to be embarrassed in front of the ladies in my study club? Women I've known for years. Women who have always respected me."
Jake stood, buckled his belt and glared at Donna. "I don't know, sugar. Did you deserve it? I think you did. You allowed those society bitches to talk about me as if I were dirt under their feet."
"I didn't allow them to do anything!" When Donna raised her voice, Louisa released her nipple and whimpered. She soothed her daughter and the child resumed nursing. Lowering her voice, she said, "I told you that I was going to say something to them, but I didn't get a chance before you came storming in."
"Look, if you want me to apologize to that bunch of snobs, then I'll apologize!"
"It's a little late for apologies. Whatever you might say or do now would only make things worse."
"Then maybe we should consider the subject closed." Jake came over, sat beside Donna on the edge of the bed and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "So what else do we need to discuss?"
Donna scooted away from him. He frowned. She couldn't think clearly when he touched her and right now, she very much needed a clear head.
"Before you used your caveman tactics on me and dragged me off to bed, I was going to tell you that I don't think we should have sex anymore. Making love just clouds the issue and creates problems I don't need."
Jake stared at her, his dark eyes filled with an incredulous, questioning glare. Suddenly he burst into laughter. Loud masculine laughter that shook the room.
Louisa lifted her head and looked at her father. Donna wanted to scream at him, to throw something at him, to pound her fists on his chest. How dare he laugh about such a serious matter!
"This isn't funny," she said.
"Yes, it is, sugar. It's the funniest thing you've ever said. And you know damn well you don't mean it."
"Yes, I do."
"No, you don't. I might have used what you call 'caveman tactics' earlier, but I didn't have to drag you off to bed. You were more than willing. You were eager."
Donna spluttered. "I'm not going to have sex with you again." She practically hissed the statement through clenched teeth. "I want you to move out of this bedroom tonight!"
Jake's face hardened; his eyes narrowed to slits. "Lady, what's your problem? Why can't you just admit that you enjoy having sex with me—that it's the best part of our marriage."
"That's just it, great sex doesn't make a good marriage."
Jake shot up off the bed. "Well it sure as hell helps!"
"It really doesn't matter, does it? After all, in four months, we're getting a divorce and the only relationship we'll share is being Louisa's parents."
"Why wait four months? Why not get a divorce now?" Jake stomped toward the door, paused for a minute, took a deep breath and said, "Don't wait up for me. I don't know what time I'll be home."
"When you come back, be sure to sleep in one of the other bedrooms," Donna told him.
"Maybe I won't come back. Maybe I'll find a bed somewhere else."
Donna opened her mouth on a silent cry. Maybe he'd find a bed somewhere else? Just what did he mean by that? Did he plan to check into a motel somewhere or did he intend to find himself another woman?
Donna sat on the bed, her body tense, her emotions rioting. So, why should she care if he left her? It didn't matter to her if he spent the night with another woman! Maybe he was right—maybe they should go ahead and get a divorce now. Why prolong the inevitable?
Louisa stirred in her mother's arms. Donna glanced down at the child she so adored. "You're the reason we married, the reason we agreed to remain husband and wife for six months. Your daddy wanted the time to be with you."
Louisa was the one they both loved. Not each other. If she hadn't gotten pregnant, she and Jake never would have even considered marriage. That long-ago morning when they said goodbye at the airport in New Mexico, neither had thought they'd see the other ever again. And that's the way it should have been.
If only J.B. hadn't turned out to be Jake Bishop. If only Jake hadn't decided, after all these years, to return to Tennessee. Without him in her life, things would be so simple.
In the morning—if Jake came home—she'd tell him that she thought he was right. That they shouldn't wait until December to get a divorce. He could have whatever visitation rights he wanted, if he would just agree to end this farce of a marriage as soon as possible.
The sooner she got Jake out of her bed and out of her house, the better off she'd be.