Heart of the Night (47 page)

“I do,” she whispered. Looping her hands, wine glass and all, around his neck, she came forward for a kiss.

“Then marry me,” he said when the kiss was done.

She pressed her temple to his. “For a man who was burned once before, you're in a big rush.”

“There's no comparison between this and that.”

“We're both lawyers.”

“You're as different from Elise as night from day.”

“I have a demanding career. I won't always be here, and when I am here, my mind may be there.”

“I don't care whether your mind's here or there,” he returned, “as long as you're wearing my ring. You're right; I've been burned once, and because of that I should be wary of ties that bind. But I'm not.
Because
I've been burned once, I know what I want, and you're it. I can live with your career. It's part of who you are. Say you'll marry me.”

“I want to,” she whispered, and one part of her did. That part wanted Jared bound to her so that he couldn't escape, so that no other woman could have him, so that all those who listened to him night after night would know he was taken. On the flip side, though, the thought of ties like that scared her. “Marriage is rough.”

“All good things are.”

“But I've seen it fall apart so often. Where I come from, marital rifts are more common than bliss.”

“Your parents were happy.”

“Uh-huh, and my mother died nearly twenty years ago. Who knows what would have happened if she had lived?”

Jared was taken off-guard by the thought. “Do you really wonder about that?”

“Once in a great while it crosses my mind. People are always telling me to be realistic, and the fact is that my dad is a difficult man. Maybe he would have been different if Mom had lived. Then again, maybe Mom would have had enough at some point.” She paused, desperately wishing she could make Jared understand. “So many of the people I know are on their second or third tries. I don't think I could bear it if something happened to us.”

“Something's
already
happened to us,” Jared said, looking as frustrated as he sounded. Under his breath, he mumbled, “I don't believe this,” then more loudly, “You're saying that since we love each other so much, we don't dare risk marriage. That doesn't make sense! If we love each other so much, marriage isn't a risk.”

With a breath, he then dared to voice the idea he'd clung to of late. “You need me, Savannah. You're as independent a woman as I've ever met; you have financial security, a career, a home. But you need me. I saw it in your eyes that first time we met, and I've seen it lots of times since. It's just a flicker sometimes, but it's there, an intense loneliness, almost desperation. You need a soul mate, and I'm it.”

Savannah couldn't argue with anything he'd said. Nor did it surprise her that he'd analyzed the situation so well. He was that kind of man. Still, his solution frightened her.

Sliding a hand down his shirt front, she grasped a button. “We could live together for a while, just to make sure this is what we want.”

“I don't have to make sure. I already know.”

The warmth of his body penetrated his shirt to soothe the backs of her fingers. “That's what you say now, but you may feel differently after a month or two.”

Slowly he shook his head. “The only way I'd feel differently would be to love you more.” His hands rose on her back. “I love you, Savannah.”

“You say that—”

“I
mean
it. I know all about your career and how demanding it is. I've lived with it for the past few weeks, but it hasn't mattered. We've made time to be together, and we've done it without any severe hardship on either of our parts. Am I right?”

She couldn't deny it. “But that's different from year after year of seeking warmth from a woman who is forever engrossed in depositions and affidavits and bills of particulars.”

Jared let a moment of silence pass. “You talk of wanting a baby. How can the woman you've described possibly make a good mother?”

“She can. I can. I'd do things differently if I had a baby. I've already told you how.”

“Then having a baby means more to you than having me?”

“No!”

“That's how it sounds.”

“No. I don't mean it that way. It's just … just…”

“What, babe?” he asked more gently. “Tell me. I have to know.”

With a quick breath, she blurted it out. “You frighten me. You're so perfect.”

“I'm not—”

“To me, you are. I always thought that if I married it would be to someone a little older and sedate, someone who was successful enough to indulge me in my career. You—you're successful and dynamic and gorgeous. You should be with someone like Susan, someone who can devote her whole life to you.”

“No offense to your sister, but I don't want that kind of woman. I'd feel smothered, and bored.”

“But you have needs and wants. I want to satisfy them, but I don't know if I can. I don't want to disappoint you, Jared. I'm scared that I would.”

Jared looked off to the side. “This really boggles my mind. You talk like I'm some kind of god and like you'd have to be a goddess to fill my needs.” His eyes went to hers. “I'm not a god, Savannah. I'm human. I have faults like everyone else. It takes two to make a marriage work or not work, and I've already blown it once before. So obviously I'm not such a joy to live with.”

“She didn't love you like I do.”

Savannah blew his mind with that remark. It was another minute before he could speak, and then his voice was more hoarse. “I know you, Savannah. I know you're a lawyer, and I know what time demands that puts on you. I want you in spite of all that, maybe because of it. You're an interesting woman. Your life is never static. I'm not asking that you be a traditional wife. I don't want a traditional wife.” He made a face. “Hell, what kind of traditional wife is going to put up with her man working all night? Or living on a boat? Not that I'm planning to live here forever, but for now it's fine. It wouldn't be fine for a woman who's around all day. She'd go stir crazy.”

Thrusting a handful of fingers through his hair, which fell right back down on his brow, he glanced toward the far end of the salon. Frustration was written all over his face. “How can I make you understand? You have an idea of what I want and need that's not what I want and need at all.” He looked back at her. “You're convinced you'd make a lousy wife, but that doesn't make sense. Take this weekend. If we'd been married this weekend, I wouldn't have expected any more or less from you. So why shouldn't we be married?”

She tugged at his button. “That goes the other way, too. If this weekend was perfect, why should we change a thing?”

“Because I want bonds. I want to know you're mine. See, I'm not perfect. I'm insecure.”

“You are not.”

“When it comes to you, I am.” With finality, he said, “I want us married.”

Leaning forward, Savannah pressed her face to his neck. He smelled so good. Even now, especially now, after a full day's work, he was man through and through. “Oh, Jared.”

His arms went around her. “What is it you want, babe?”

“A little time. A little time to get used to us. It's still so new. If you think you're feeling insecure, I'm feeling ten times more so.”

“You shouldn't.”

“But I do. For me, marriage was always something way out there in the great beyond. I never dwelled on it. Maybe I purposely avoided thinking about it, because I'm not sure I'd do it well, and if I can't do that, maybe I don't want to try. I'd have certain expectations of myself if I were married, far more so than if we were living together.”

“That's crazy.”

“Maybe, but it's so. I've never spent much time picturing myself as a wife. I've pictured myself a mother more, but even then, we're talking dreams.”

“So dream about us.”

“Lately that's all I do.”

Framing her face with his hands, he said in a tone that was raw and pleading, “I love you. Why won't you believe me? You're so positive about everything else in life. Why not about us?”

“Because,” she said with her heart in her throat, “you mean so much to me. When the optimist in me runs free, I imagine all sorts of beautiful things—us, kids, health, and happiness. Then I get nervous and I begin to think that one person can't have it all. I have a successful career. I'm not sure I can do justice to more.”

“You
can.
You can have it
all.
”

She wanted to believe him. He spoke with such confidence that she almost did. Still there were fears that gnawed and nagged. In an attempt to ward off those chilly fingers of doubt, she hugged him closer.

“Agh!” he cried and went suddenly straight. He twisted an arm to his back and brought his hand out wet. “Uh … babe?”

It was a minute before Savannah realized what she'd done. Eyes wide, she looked at the empty wine glass she held at his shoulder, then at Jared. In a small voice, she said, “I forgot it was there.”

His look said, “You sure did,” as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “So,” he tried to sound casual without feeling it at all, “you want to put the wedding off just a little?”

She nodded.

“A month or two?”

She shrugged.

“But you will marry me?”

“If you still want it.”

“I'll want it.” He peeled the shirt off first one arm, then the next. “What if you get pregnant?”

“I'm not getting pregnant so fast.”

He tossed the shirt aside. “We're not doing anything to prevent it.”

Captivated by his chest, she spoke distractedly. “But it's not happening.”

“Maybe it will this month.”

“No.” She spread both hands over his ribs, letting her thumbs meet at the faint, central line of hair. “It won't happen for a little while.”

Jared was intrigued by her certainty. “Why not?”

“Because,” she said, taking a breath, “the next few months are going to be ugly. I don't want our baby to be tainted by that.”

“Our baby.” Jared grinned. “Sounds nice.” In the next instant, though, the grin vanished. “Will I be competing with Stavanovich for your attention?”

“Not competing—”

“You can't let him dominate your life, Savannah.”

“He won't—”

“He'd
better
not.”

She couldn't help but grin. “Or what? What'll you do to poor Matty?”

“I won't do a damn thing to poor Matty. It's poor you I'll do things to.” He leaned forward, all the way forward until Savannah's back hit the sofa cushions. “If necessary,” he loomed over her, “I'll keep you right here on this boat, naked and hot,” a more husky drawl, “just beggin' for it.”

“You could do it,” she whispered, sliding her hands up his chest, “and without much effort. It doesn't take much to get me hot when I'm around you.”

“What about naked?” he asked. The gray flecks in his eyes had darkened.

At the slight pressure of her hand, he backed off her. She stood and began to undress, slipping off first her jeans, then her shirt, then her panties and bra. Her movements weren't purposefully seductive, yet the effect on Jared couldn't have been greater if she had done a bona fide strip tease. His face was flushed and his chest felt suddenly tight.

She looped her aims around his neck. “I'm naked.”

“I know,” he said in a raspy murmur. While he cupped her breast and sucked her nipple far into his mouth, his free hand set the rest of her on fire. When his fingers finally wound up high between her legs, he whispered, “You're hot.”

“And begging,” she breathed in a broken whisper. Her hands went to the snap of his jeans. “Please, Jared, hurry.” She lost patience with his zipper and, instead, began to stroke his swollen flesh through the denim.

With a soft curse, he struggled out of the jeans. Then he stood, brought her tight against him and moaned. “God, do I love you.”

“Then help me,” she whispered without restraint. She wasn't sure why, but she had no patience at all. She needed him inside, and she needed it now. Backing her up a step until the backs of her knees touched the large, square coffee table, he lowered her to its surface and slowly, sensuously, stretched out over her. Linking his fingers with hers by her head, he watched her face as he entered her.

She was beautiful all the time, he thought, but especially at the moment of his penetration. Her face was always the same, with elements of surprise and delight, yet always different, depending on what they'd been doing or discussing beforehand. This time, mixed with a canvas of love was relief, and even in spite of the relief, she was raising her thighs higher on his, opening herself to a deeper possession.

Jared would have possessed her soul if she had let him, but he had to be satisfied with her body and her heart. Some time later, when he lay damp and spent between her thighs, he thought of that possession and realized how tenuous it was.

“You'll be mine,” he whispered into the tangled cloud of chestnut hair that cushioned his face.

“I am yours,” she whispered back.

“Forever and ever, amen?”

“I want that.”

“Then marry me.”

“Soon.”

“Now.”

“Soon.”

Taking her with him, he rolled off the table and onto the rug with a thud.

“Jared!” she cried, on top now. “Good God, what are you trying to do?”

“Knock some sense into you.”

“I have all the sense I need.” She shaped her hand to his jaw, which hadn't been shaved in a day and was pleasantly rough. “I just need time. That's all. A little time to feel totally sure I'm the right one for you.”