His gaze moved from the picture to the bed. A single. He supposed it wouldn’t matter. The way he felt just then, they’d spend the whole night making love anyway.
He turned toward his wife. She smiled softly, and in that instant James knew he couldn’t wait any longer. His need was so great that his entire body seemed to throb with a need of its own.
He held out his hand, and she walked toward him.
If he had any regrets about their time in Vegas, it was that he’d been so eager for her, so awkward and clumsy. Tonight would be slow and easy, he’d promised himself. When they made love, it would be leisurely so she’d know how much he appreciated her. They’d savor each other without interruption.
“Summer, I love you.” He lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. His hands were at the snap of her jeans, trembling as he struggled to hold back the urgency of his need.
He kissed her with two weeks’ worth of pent-up hunger, and all his accumulated frustration broke free.
He eased the jeans over her slender hips and let them fall to her feet, then released her long enough to remove his own clothes. As he was unbuttoning his shirt, he watched her slip out of her silky underwear. His breath caught in his throat.
When James finished undressing, they collapsed on the narrow bed together. And then he lost all sense of time....
* * *
Summer woke to the sound of James humming off-key in the kitchen. The man couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, as her dad liked to say. Smiling, she glanced at her clock radio—almost 6:00 p.m. She reached for her housecoat and entered the kitchen to find him examining the contents of her refrigerator.
“So you’re one of those,” she teased, tying the sash of her robe.
“One of what?” He reappeared brandishing a chicken leg.
“You get hungry after sex,” she whispered.
“I didn’t eat on the plane, and yes,” he said, grinning shyly at her, “I suspect you’re right.”
She yawned and sat on the bar stool. “Anything interesting in there?”
“Leftover chicken, cottage cheese three weeks past its expiration date, Swiss cheese and an orange.”
“I’ll take the orange.” She yawned again.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” He peeled the orange and handed it to her, frowning. It wasn’t his imagination; she was pale.
“More than ever. I seem to be exhausted lately. All I do is work and sleep.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No. I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile. She didn’t want to waste their precious time together discussing her sleeping patterns. She ate a section of the rather dry orange. “I better shower and get dressed.”
“For the show?”
She nodded, sad that part of her weekend with James would be spent on the job, but there was no help for it. It was difficult enough to trade schedules in order to fly up to Seattle.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what a talented woman I married.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
“Not possible.” He shook his head solemnly.
“James,” she said, staring down at the orange. “Do you ever wonder what’s really there between us?”
He tossed the chicken bone into the garbage. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes I’m afraid all we share is a strong physical attraction. Is there more?”
He swallowed; the question seemed to make him uncomfortable. “What makes you ask that?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t keep our hands off each other.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I think about us making love—a lot. Probably more than I should. You’re a brilliant man. I’m fairly sure you didn’t marry me because I challenge you intellectually.”
“I married you because I fell in love with you.”
He made it sound so uncomplicated.
“I love the way a room lights up when you walk into it,” he said. “When you laugh, I want to laugh, too. I’ve never heard you sing or seen you perform on stage, but there’s music in you, Summer. I sensed it the first night we met.
“Just being with you makes me want to smile. Not that you’re telling jokes or doing pratfalls or anything—it’s your attitude. When I’m with you, the world’s a better place.”
Summer felt her throat tighten.
“Like your father, an attorney or a judge can develop a jaded perspective in life. It’s difficult to trust when the world’s filled with suspicion. It’s difficult to love when you deal with the consequences of hate every day. Perhaps that’s been my problem all along.”
“Not trusting?”
“Yes. You came to me without defenses, devastated, vulnerable, broken. I’d been hurt, too, so I knew how you felt because I’d experienced those same emotions. I’d walk through the fires of hell before I’d allow anyone to do that to you again.” He walked over and held out his hand. “It’s more than just words when I say I love you, Summer. It’s my heart, my whole heart.”
She gripped his hand with both of hers.
“If you’re afraid our relationship is too much about sexual attraction, then maybe we should put a hold on anything physical for the rest of the weekend. Instead, we’ll concentrate on getting to know each other better.”
“Do you think it’s possible?” She gave him a knowing look, then leaned forward. The front of her robe gaped open, and Summer watched as he stared at her breasts, then carefully averted his eyes.
“It’s possible,” he said in a low voice. “Not easy, but possible.”
“I need to take a shower before I leave for work.” She slipped off the stool and started to walk away. Then she turned, looked over her shoulder and smiled seductively. “Remember what fun we had in the shower, James?”
James paled. “Summer,” he warned through clenched teeth. “If we’re going to stay out of the bedroom, I’ll need your help.”
She turned to face him full on. “The shower isn’t in the bedroom.”
“Go have your shower,” he said stiffly. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“You’re sure?” She released the sash and let the silk robe fall open.
He made a sound that could mean various things—but he didn’t make a move. Feeling slightly disappointed, Summer walked slowly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.