The Manning Grooms (13 page)

Jason’s eyes sought out Charlotte’s when she returned from changing her clothes. His gaze assured
her not to worry. He wasn’t any more willing to spend two weeks in her company than she’d been about going through with the wedding. She was sure he’d find some way to miss the flight.

Except that he didn’t.

His mother waited with them at the airline counter, wiping the tears from her eyes as she hugged her son. Carrie was there, too, more relaxed now, excited that she and Higgins would be spending two weeks with Leah and Paul.

Charlotte hugged Jason’s mother farewell, tears brimming in her eyes. “No woman ever had a more beautiful wedding,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Her father-in-law was waiting when she’d finished, holding out his arms to her as though she were a small child needing reassurance. Nothing could be closer to the truth.

“Eric, thank you,” she murmured, as she slipped into his embrace. This might well be the only opportunity she’d have to express her gratitude. Soon enough Jason’s parents would know. She wouldn’t be able to face them.

“You call me Dad,” Eric said, hugging her close. “We already love you like a daughter, Charlotte.”

Tears blurred her vision and when she turned, she nearly collided with Jason. He took her by the elbow, his fingers pinching her skin. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer him, couldn’t have said a word if she’d tried. They got their boarding passes as everyone watched. They were going to Hawaii, like it or not.

Charlotte realized there was no escape for them, unless they owned up to the truth immediately. Jason didn’t look any more pleased than she did, but obviously didn’t want to disillusion the family quite so soon.

As he led her into the security area, away from his family, he muttered, “I didn’t plan this.”

“I know,” she said with a helpless sigh. “Oh—my car. I left it at the beach.”

“Mandy’s getting it for you.”

His thoughtfulness surprised her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said sarcastically. “I wanted it back in the apartment lot so you wouldn’t have any trouble leaving again. Next time you can go with my blessing.”

Their seats were in business class and they were quickly served glasses of champagne that neither of them drank.

As the plane taxied away from the jetway and toward the airstrip, he closed his eyes, heaved a massive sigh and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of this yet.”

Charlotte nodded and lowered her gaze. “I’ll do everything I can to stay out of your way.”

“That would be appreciated.”

The flight was five hours, but it seemed closer to fifty. Jason didn’t exchange one unnecessary word with Charlotte. At this rate, she didn’t know how they’d be able to spend two weeks in each other’s company.

Jason must have been thinking the same thing. “I’ll see what I can do about arranging a flight back to
Seattle as soon as we land,” he told her briskly, without a shred of emotion. No regret, no disappointment, nothing.

Charlotte bit her lip. “I…I didn’t pack much of anything…since the suitcase was just for show.”

He didn’t respond. By the time they landed and collected their luggage, Charlotte was falling asleep on her feet. Apparently Jason suspected as much, since he made some excuse about contacting the airlines from the hotel instead of rushing her onto a return flight. But she wasn’t sure if this small kindness was for her benefit or his own, since he couldn’t have had much more sleep than she had.

She barely noticed the scenery as the taxi carried them through town. Their hotel was on Waikiki Beach, built on white sands and surrounded by swaying palms.

When they went to check in at the front desk, Charlotte stepped back, letting Jason take care of the necessary paperwork. He was obviously upset about something, but she couldn’t tell what.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, as they moved toward the elevator.

“I thought we could get a double room, but…” Jason rubbed a hand across his face, looking weary and defeated. “My parents booked us into the bridal suite.”

“Oh.” Charlotte didn’t fully realize the implications of that until the bellman ushered them, with much fanfare, into the corner suite. There was one bed. A king-size bed that loomed before her.

Charlotte’s startled gaze sought out Jason’s as he paid the attendant and closed the door. The fear she’d managed to bury for hours spilled over now, but before she could say a word, he turned to her.

“Don’t look so shocked. It isn’t as if I intend to make love to you.”

“But where will…we sleep?”

He laughed, the sound abrupt. “If you want to call down to the front desk and order a rollaway for the bridal suite, then by all means, be my guest. Frankly, I feel enough of a fool for one day, so I’ll leave that option to you.”

With no real alternative, she showered, put on an old T-shirt and crawled between the crisp sheets of the bed, making sure she was as far on her side as possible.

She was drifting off to sleep when Jason finished his shower and returned to the bedroom. He stood for several minutes looking down at her. Her heart roared like a crazed animal as she wondered about his intentions. He could force her. Tom had often enough, using her body, leaving her feeling sick and abused afterward. She’d curl up tightly while he shouted how incompetent she was, how unattractive, how lacking. She’d lie there silently as the ugly, demeaning words rained down on her. When he was done with his tirade he’d leave.

The memories made her shiver with revulsion and fear.

“Charlotte.”

She didn’t answer, pretending to be asleep. Jason
was angry with her, angrier than she’d ever seen him. Eyes closed, she lay still, her heart pounding with dread.

She heard Jason dressing, heard him pause and then, after a moment, heard him turn off the light and leave the room.

Abruptly Charlotte sat up. He’d left her, walked away just like Tom had, as though he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with her. Like Tom, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

He’d left without a word.

Wasn’t that what she wanted? Then why did she feel so alone, so deserted and unloved, so empty inside?

The tears that had threatened most of the day broke free with a low, eerie wail. She tucked her knees against her chest as the sobs overtook her.

She wept for all she’d lost. Jason’s love. Any chance of sharing their lives. The dream of having another child. The family she’d never had. It was gone now, crushed by her own hand.

It was too late to try and get any of it back. Jason hated her. She could never recapture what she’d destroyed with her fear. Never rebuild the trust she’d demolished when she’d run away.

She sobbed until the well of grief was emptied. Even that wasn’t enough. She tore at the sheets, pulling the blankets from the bed and beating the pillows.

It didn’t take long to exhaust what little energy she had, and she fell across the bed sobbing, then fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

Jason came back to the room an hour later, moving as silently as possible, not wanting to wake Charlotte. He wished he could hate his wife, punish her for what she’d done. She deserved to suffer, didn’t she?

But if that was really the case, then why was
he
the one in pain? He saw her climb into bed and curl up, and it was all he could do not to dash across the room and take her in his arms. This woman had betrayed him, and yet he wanted to comfort her.

It was either leave the room or beg her forgiveness for forcing her to endure this day. She wasn’t entitled to his forgiveness, he reminded himself, which meant there was only one option. He’d left.

He’d gone for a walk on the beach, which wasn’t exactly how he’d expected to spend his wedding night. Not that he was any great shakes as a husband. A hundred times or more he’d gone over his own part in this fiasco. He’d rushed Charlotte into marriage and so had his family, not giving her a chance for second thoughts. Looking back, he understood now that it was the urgency of his mother’s idea that he’d found so appealing. Now he understood why.

He’d rushed into marriage with Charlotte because, deep down, he’d been afraid that if she’d had the chance to change her mind, she would. And he’d been right.

Jason didn’t know what lunacy had prompted him to make her go through with the ceremony. To avoid embarrassment? Having their marriage annulled the following week would still embarrass him and his family.
There was the problem, too, of returning all the wedding gifts. Eventually he’d have to face people. Make explanations.

He’d taken the easy way out, delaying the inevitable because of his pride.

Charlotte had wanted to cancel the wedding and he’d perversely refused to release her. So now they were stuck in Hawaii on a two-week honeymoon neither of them wanted. Stuck in each other’s company, in the bridal suite no less, until he could find a flight back to Seattle.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the dark, Jason made his way across the elegant room. Charlotte was still curled up on the bed, but the sheets and blankets were strewn about as though a storm had raged through.

He discovered a second and a third pillow hurled across the room. One was on the floor, the other dangling from a chair. It looked as if his bride had thrown a temper tantrum.

So she hadn’t liked it that he’d left. A smile played across his lips. It was the first time since he’d found her on the beach that she’d displayed any emotion.

The thought of Charlotte losing her temper pleased him, until he remembered she wasn’t given to bouts of anger. He felt a pang of concern but brushed it aside—it belonged to the past, to the old Charlotte, the one he’d loved.

Exhausted and depressed, he gazed about the room and noted that the bed was all she’d bothered to disarrange. Everything else in the room remained untouched.

Not knowing what to think, and too tired to care, he quietly stripped off his clothes and slipped beneath a rumpled sheet. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, but his dreams were disturbing and he woke several times before morning.

Not once during the night did Charlotte move. She stayed on her side, facing away from him, never changing her position.

He woke in the morning, the bright sunshine slashing through the bedroom curtains. Charlotte was on her back, already awake. She shifted her head and stared at him with eyes so filled with pain that he hurt just looking at her.

“I lied when I said I didn’t love you, Jason,” she whispered and a tear rolled down the side of her face. “I do…so very much. I’m sorry…for everything I’ve done.”

He nodded, his throat thick. “I’m sorry, too, Charlotte.”

C
harlotte closed her eyes because looking at Jason was so painful, knowing he hated her, knowing he’d never really forgive her for what she’d done.

“I lied when I said I wanted to marry you because of your family. I…ran away because I was afraid.”

“Of me?”

Her pulse scampered. She should’ve told him the truth weeks earlier. She’d agreed to be his wife; he had a right to know. But the truth was so easy to put off, so easy to deny. So hard to explain.

There’d been opportunities to tell him, plenty of them, although she’d tried to convince herself otherwise. She’d been too much of a coward to present Jason with the truth. And then, when time ran out, she’d panicked.

“Charlotte?” Jason said in a low voice. “What are you afraid of?”

She couldn’t explain that she was, to put it bluntly,
afraid of sex. Of intimacy. That wasn’t what a man wanted to hear. Not just Jason, but any man.

He deserved so much more than she was capable of giving him. He deserved a woman who was emotionally whole and healthy. A woman who was physically responsive. Not someone scared and battle-weary and all but dead to her own sexuality.

“I owe you an explanation….”

“I’d say so,” he agreed, but his voice was devoid of the previous day’s sarcasm, without a trace of anger.

“I meant to tell you sooner. To give you the choice of going through with the wedding or not. But as time went on I—I couldn’t…and then it was too late.”

“Tell me now.”

Charlotte thought back to an age when she’d been innocent, vulnerable and naive. “My mother died while I was in high school. My father had abandoned us years earlier and I don’t think my mother ever recovered. If he contacted her at any point after he left, I didn’t know about it. She was different after he was gone. It was like she’d given up on life. She loved me, though—I know she did—and she’d been insightful enough to plan for my future.”

Jason’s hand reached across the bed for hers. Their fingers entwined and Charlotte was grateful for his touch.

“I met Tom my first year of college. He came from another state and was attending classes on a limited scholarship. He was intelligent and good-looking. When he asked me out, I was thrilled. He seemed to like me….
Later I realized it wasn’t me that attracted him, but the insurance money I’d received when my mother died. After a few months, we made love and…and he asked me to marry him. I didn’t have any family and…I desperately needed someone. I was too stupid to know why Tom really wanted to marry me. He saw marriage as a way of paying for his education without having to work for it.

“I dropped out of school after one semester and we got married. The money that was meant for my education went toward Tom’s while I got a full-time job to pay our living expenses.”

Jason’s hand flinched, tightening around hers.

“I should’ve gotten out of the marriage as soon as I figured out he was using me. Instead, I compounded my mistake. I thought if I got pregnant it would make everything better. If Tom didn’t love me, surely he’d love the baby.”

“You’ve been so hard on yourself.”

“I’ll never regret having Carrie. She’s been the best thing in my life…but Tom wasn’t happy.” She hesitated, reliving the terrible scene, so many years past, when she’d told Tom she was pregnant. He’d wanted her to have an abortion, even given her the money. She’d lied and told him she’d done it, hiding her pregnancy until it was too late. He’d been so furious that he’d hit her. The blow had been so hard, it had loosened three of her teeth.

“Go on,” Jason prompted.

“I had Carrie and for a while I thought the marriage
might work. Tom liked his little girl and was proud of her.”

“You told me Tom was having an affair. When did this happen?”

“It started while I was pregnant. Tom enjoyed sex…and after a while he said I was too fat and ugly to make love to, and everything came to a stop.” Charlotte remembered how relieved she was, how grateful because she no longer had to give in to his rough physical demands. She was working a forty-hour week, waiting tables, and was too exhausted at night to satisfy him. He’d been telling her for months that a man needed enthusiasm from his wife during sex, but Charlotte had never seemed able to rouse any. It was like making love to a corpse, he told her.

“I…I never was very good at sex,” she continued in a tight voice. “And after Carrie was born, I lost all interest.” Actually any pleasure in the physical aspects of their marriage had died months earlier, when Tom had demanded she have an abortion. After Carrie was born, she found herself unwilling to make any effort to please him physically.

“That was when the really bad fights began,” she said as evenly as the remembered emotions would allow. “Tom claimed it was his right to make love to me whenever he wanted and…and…” Her throat closed up, forcing her to stop.

“Did he rape you, Charlotte?”

Biting her lower lip, she nodded. Only Tom hadn’t called it rape; he’d said it was his right. He’d married
her, hadn’t he? That meant she’d given him the right to do whatever he wanted with her body the moment she’d signed the marriage document.

Jason moved closer and brought her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder, stroking her hair. His chest was heaving and Charlotte knew he was fighting his own anger.

Her eyes glazed over with tears as she struggled to hold back the fear, the memory of the violence, the feeling of powerlessness, the revulsion of those terror-filled episodes. Her breathing became labored.

“I…couldn’t satisfy Tom,” she admitted in a breathless whisper.

“That has everything to do with Tom—not with you.” He paused. “Are you afraid you won’t be able to satisfy me?”

She nodded through her tears.

“But, Charlotte,” he said, raising himself on one elbow and gazing down at her, “how can you think that? Everything between us has always been so good. Or am I wrong? Haven’t you enjoyed the times we kissed?”

She lowered her lashes. “Yes…but they’ve frightened me.”

“I never forced you.”

“I…I know that. You’ve been so patient and gentle. I almost convinced myself I could make love again…that I could erase those nightmare years with Tom and start all over…but I can’t. That’s why I ran away…that’s the real reason, not what I told you earlier.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me this before?”

She wiped the tears from her face, and swallowed the bittersweet agony of the moment. “Because I love you so much.”

Her words were met with a puzzled hesitation. “You wouldn’t tell me because you love me?”

She nodded, and hiccuped a sobbing laugh. “It sounds ludicrous, I know, but it’s true. Because I couldn’t stand to lose you—not that way. Because if we ever did make love, you’d see—you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“How could you think that?” Jason asked.

This was the moment she’d dreaded. The moment of truth. She turned her head away, unwilling to look at him, unwilling to let him see her face. A tightness gripped her chest, crushing her, the pressure so intense she could hardly breathe.

“Charlotte?”

It would’ve been easier if he hadn’t been so gentle. She could deal with his anger and frustration, but not his tenderness. She didn’t know how to respond to that in a man.

Shoving aside the blanket and sheet, she sat on the edge of the bed. When he caressed her back, she stood, unable to deal with being touched just then. Her arms were locked around her middle and the aching pressure in her chest rose, settling in her throat. Tears burned her eyes.

“Tell me,” he demanded, not unkindly. “Just say it.”

“I can’t be your wife.”

“It’s too late for that,” he murmured. “You already are.”

“I’m not…not in the ways that matter to a man.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t you understand what I’m saying?” she cried. “Do I have to spell out every degrading detail? Is that what you want? Then fine, I’ll say it. I can’t be your wife because I can’t make love.” She gulped in a deep breath. “I’m frigid, Jason. The term might be out of fashion but it still applies.”

There was a brief, shocked silence. Then Jason started to laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me! Don’t you dare laugh.” A fury rose inside Charlotte, one that had been years in the making, one so strong there was no holding back. She threw herself at him, arms swinging, feet kicking, fingers clawing, before he had a chance to react.

He caught her by the wrists. “Charlotte…I wasn’t laughing at
you.
”

She barely heard his words, not that it mattered. She twisted and bucked in his hold. He twisted, too, and with the momentum of his weight they fell together on the bed. He was sprawled over her upper body, his thigh across her legs, holding her down.

Her chest was heaving, her shoulders jerking upward in an effort to escape.

“Charlotte, for heaven’s sake, I wasn’t laughing at you,” he said again.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to answer him.

“Stop struggling, before you destroy any chance of my fathering our future child.”

She went still, although the fight hadn’t completely left her.

“Now let me explain.”

There were too many years of agony inside her, too many insecurities to be soothed away with a few simple words. “No. Just let me go.”

“In a minute. Then if you still want me to release you I will. You owe me this much. All right?”

She twisted her head away from him, still refusing to answer.

“I love you, Charlotte. I realized when we first started seeing each other that you’d been badly hurt by your ex-husband. I didn’t understand the extent of it until now, but in some ways I think not knowing was for the best. It would have intimidated me in the beginning.”

A sob tore through her throat.

“The first time we kissed…I wish I knew how to explain it, but I knew you were different. That moment was different than any I’d ever known before. Kissing you was so good.”

Charlotte didn’t respond, but she knew he was right. Their kisses
had
been good. Very good.

“It got even better, didn’t it?”

She nodded, although only slightly.

“You’re not frigid, or whatever term the psychologists prefer now. Not even close. What you are, my love, is afraid, and for a very legitimate reason. You’ve been sexually abused.”

“I’m sexually…damaged. Forever.”

“No, not forever. In time you’ll heal. We’ll heal together.” He said it with such conviction, as though they faced only a small problem, when to her it was bigger than both of them. Bigger than even their love.

“But it isn’t
you
who…can’t make love,” she sobbed. “It’s me. You’re not the one who has to heal…and I don’t know if I can.”

“We’re in this together, Charlotte. Whatever it takes.”

“There isn’t any reason you should—”

“We can’t heal,” he interrupted, “unless we try. We can’t sweep this under the carpet and ignore it. I’m not so stupid as to believe that all the pain and all the memories will go away simply because we make love and it’s as good as our kisses have been.”

“I…don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget.”

Jason rolled away from her, freeing her arms and legs. He stood and raked his hand through his hair. “The decision is yours, and I’ll abide by whatever you want. I’m not going to force you to be my wife. I’ve made some mistakes in this relationship and just now was one of them. I’m sure I’ll make more. You should know that.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” She sat up and wiped the tears from her burning cheeks, her hands trembling. Jason had moved away from her and was staring out the window.

“Like I said, the decision is yours. If you want me to file for an annulment, then I will. I’ll make the arrangements to get us off this island as quickly as possible. As
soon as I can, I’ll take care of all the legalities. In a few days there won’t be anything to bind us together—if that’s what you want.”

“I see.” Her heart filled with mourning.

“But there’s something you should understand, Charlotte. If you decide you want to give this marriage a try, there’ll be no turning back.”

She did understand, and the thought filled her with panic.

“I’m willing to devote myself to you and the marriage, but I’ll need the same kind of commitment from you. In other words, you’re going to have to
want
to heal. It may mean counseling for you, for us both. We both have to be willing to do whatever it takes.”

“I don’t know if I could…ever tell anyone else about my marriage to Tom.”

“That’s your decision, too. If you want to stay my wife, you have to realize that the time will come when we
will
make love—but only when you’re ready. And when we do, it’ll be good, Charlotte…I promise you that.”

“How often?” It was probably a stupid question, but one she needed to know. She might be able to bear it if Jason wanted to make love occasionally. She might be able to overcome the terror if he wasn’t too demanding.

“I can’t answer that because I don’t know.”

“More than once a month?”

He turned away from her, but not before she saw his smile. “Yes, Charlotte, more than once a month.”

“I see.”

“It seems to me that you have some serious thinking to do. Perhaps it would be best if I left for a while. When I come back, you can tell me your thoughts. Does that sound fair?”

She waited until he turned to look at her before she nodded.

So this was what it meant to love someone, Jason thought as he left the hotel and headed for the beach. He felt as though a hole had been carved through the center of his life, and nothing—besides Charlotte—was capable of filling it. He wanted to believe she’d realize he wasn’t another Tom. That didn’t seem to be the case, however.

He’d felt a glimmer of hope when he’d first started talking, trying to get through to her, soothe her fears. The anger had drained from her eyes as she’d studied him, seeming to measure his words. He’d seen trust gradually replace that anger.

He hoped she’d be willing to give their marriage a chance. He loved her, but he wasn’t naive or arrogant enough to believe his feelings for her could, on their own, heal the horror of her experience. She was going to need more than his love, more than his gentleness. Being tender and patient with her wasn’t going to wipe out the trauma of having been raped by her own husband. No wonder she was so terrified.