Carrie's Answer (12 page)

She snuggled down as he tucked the comforter over her body.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” Her voice was already sleepy, her eyes utterly sated.

“In a bit. I have some business I need to check on first.” He bent down, kissing the frown from her face then, turning, he left the room, not daring to look back.

He needed to get out of here and regroup, because if he went back and got into bed with her, he would never let her leave it again.

Marcus decided it was time to step back, at least until he could get himself under control.

Chapter Fourteen

The tantalizing aroma of coffee filtered into Carrie’s dream, tempting her from sleep. She opened her eyes, blinking against the bright sunshine sifting through the curtains. Marcus lay on his side next to her holding a cup of liquid bliss.

“Good morning, baby. Or maybe I should say good afternoon.” His smile lit his face.

“What time is it?” she asked, pushing up on one elbow and reaching greedily for the coffee, certain that it couldn’t be
that
late.

“Almost one,” he replied, pressing the cup into her hand.

She lifted the cup to her face, breathed in the heavenly steam and took a sip. Damn, she really needed the caffeine.

Marcus took the coffee from her and she sat up against the pillows at her back. He took a tray filled with food off the nightstand.

Carrie scanned the contents of the tray; it was piled high with fruit, croissants and butter. Decorative jars held jam and honey, and a crystal decanter held orange juice. Her stomach growled and when she covered it up, trying to stop the offending noise, Marcus laughed.

“It’s all right. You worked up one hell of an appetite last night.”

He picked up a strawberry and brought it to her lips. She scrunched up her nose at the plump piece of fruit.

“Don’t like strawberries?” Marcus asked, popping the berry into his mouth.

Carrie shook her head. “Love them. They don’t like me. I’m allergic. If I eat one, you’ll have to take me to the hospital for a shot or else I’ll swell up so bad my face will disappear.”

Marcus picked up a slice of banana. “I assume these are okay?”

“Yes, I’m only allergic to the strawberries. And ragweed,” she added.

He lifted the fruit to her lips. She allowed him to slide the slice of banana into her mouth, savoring the feeling of his finger along her tongue.

“You’re lucky you have no allergies,” she continued after she’d swallowed the sweet morsel. “Heck, I can’t even go out into the sun without a gallon of sunscreen or I turn as red as a lobster.”

Marcus fed her some more fruit: grapes, banana and orange slices. “You know a lot about me but apparently I don’t really know anything about you.”

Carrie just shrugged, a bit embarrassed that she’d shared some very intimate moments with a man who knew practically zero about her outside of the office.

Marcus stood. “It seems like I have some catching up to do.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a garment bag along with a shopping bag.

“I got something for you to wear today. Why don’t you take a shower and meet me downstairs.”

He took the tray away, kissing her lightly on the nose. When he shut the door to his room, Carrie shuffled out of bed. Stretching her arms high above her head, she savored the well-worked feeling of all her muscles. Her body still held a tinge of soreness but she was thrilled by the small amount of pain. It reminded her in vivid detail of last night.

Taking one last sip of coffee, she turned curiously to the bags Marcus had laid across the bed. Since she would be leaving tomorrow, she planned to enjoy the day. Tomorrow was soon enough to think about when they would part ways. On Sunday, she could worry about having to start her new life without him. In the meantime, she planned to spend the next two days showing him exactly how much he needed her in his life.

She shook her head. Banishing the thoughts, she grabbed the clothes Marcus had set out for her and headed for the shower.

Marcus sat at the table, reading the paper, occasionally looking at his laptop. No urgent messages from Meri, so everything at work was well under control. Not that he had any worries where his little sister was concerned. She was more than capable of running the whole damn company if she wanted to.

There were many times when he dreamed of walking away from the responsibilities that he’d been tied to since his birth. The eldest Worthington, Stirling’s protégé, he was more like his father than he wanted to admit. The older Marcus got, the more he realized he didn’t want to live in the shadow of the Old Man. He sure as hell didn’t want to die the way Stirling had, on a cold marble floor, disappointed in his children and cursing their existence. He only wished he’d been witness to the cruelty Meredith was subjected to.

If he’d known, he would have taken her from that house. The guilt gnawed at him even five years later. He could never make up to her for all the wrongs that she’d suffered. But in true Worthington fashion, Meri put on a stoic face and went on with her life.

Marcus’ depressing musings were interrupted by Carrie’s entrance into the dining room. He put the paper down and pointed to his lap.

She laughed. “I think that chair is a little too delicate to hold us both.”

His arm shot out, grabbing her around the waist. She yelped as he pulled her into his lap.

“Baby, you don’t worry about that,” he said, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent. Ah, vanilla. He wanted to eat her up.

His body began to heat up. He savored his response but he had no intention of acting on it just yet. This afternoon was dedicated to relaxing and talking. He’d realized how little he knew about his woman, and he was determined to remedy the situation. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Carrie Anderson.

Last night as he’d sat nursing a warm beer and reliving every moment they’d ever spent together, he’d come to a conclusion that surprised him. He didn’t want their time together to end on Sunday.

While the idea terrified him, something stronger was driving him. A sense of rightness, a sense of peace. Hell, a sense of being truly home for the first time in his life.

He was comfortable with Carrie. He enjoyed her smile, her intelligence and her looks of surprise when he demanded something from her. And he just plain loved watching those whiskey-brown eyes grow dark with arousal.

He was pleased to see her wearing the outfit he’d bought her. It was a simple sheath dress that flowed gently over her curves, ending just above the knee. The red floral pattern looked amazing against her creamy skin and showed off her velvet collar perfectly. A pair of flat sandals perfect for walking completed the outfit. She’d confined her silky, dark hair in a high ponytail. That just wasn’t going to cut it.

“You look beautiful, except for this,” he said, pulling the scrunchie out of her hair. He finger-combed the long, soft tresses around her face. “I love your hair down. Besides,” he kissed the back of her neck, “I couldn’t keep my hands or mouth to myself with that tender flesh tempting me all day.” He paused to nibble behind her ear. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Carrie asked, her excitement clearly written on her face. She didn’t hide her emotions and Marcus liked that. He’d noticed the troubled expression on her face every time she was reminded that they only had this weekend together. Did she really want more than that? It was something to think about, but not now. Now it was time to take her out on a sunny afternoon and just spend time with her.

* * * * *

Carrie was having the time of her life. Marcus drove them to the small town of Royal Oak, a local community popular for its art galleries and sidewalk cafes. He parked at one end of town and they walked down the streets, going into the small shops that lined the way. She wasn’t familiar with the area and was fascinated by all the unique things she discovered.

In a used bookstore, she came across an old romance she’d read in her late teens. The Valerie Sherwood novel featured a pirate and a scantily clad and very beautiful damsel embracing provocatively on the cover. Marcus teased her to no end about her choice in reading material but she didn’t mind and allowed him to purchase the old book for her.

They stopped at a small gallery that featured independent local artists. None of the artists were well-known but the talent displayed was amazing. She was enthralled with the works mounted to the white walls.

A small painting held her attention the longest. It was a picture of lovers embracing. The artist had focused in on their entwined arms. The sepia tones added a sense of intimacy to the image that held her attention. She peeked at the discreet price tag hanging next to the piece and stifled her disappointment. Five hundred dollars was a little too steep for her budget. She stepped away and wandered around some more.

She felt him behind her. “You enjoyed that painting, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” She grabbed his hand. “It was simple but there was just something so powerful about it. It made me feel like I was seeing something so intimate.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

He pulled her into his arms. “It’s yours if you want it.”

Her smile turned to a frown. “Marcus, a two-dollar used book is one thing but I couldn’t allow you to buy me such an extravagant gift. Really, but thank you.”

“If it pleases you, I want you to have it.”

She cut him off by placing her mouth over his. The last thing she needed was a picture to remind her of their time together. Besides, Carrie never wanted Marcus to think she was after him for his money. The clothes he gave were different. It was a way for him to control her, and he gave her no real choice. A gift like this was entirely different.

She pulled his hand, tugging him out of the gallery. “Come on, big spender. I want to check out the shops across the street.”

Marcus followed her, squeezing her hand. He glanced back at the small gallery. She’d turned down his offer. He was surprised, oddly, pleasantly so. Karen would have bought half the gallery and not even glanced at the small but powerful picture that caught Carrie’s eye.

The picture was so simple yet full of passion. Just like Carrie herself. Marcus wanted to go back and buy the painting for her but decided against it. He would honor her wishes for now.

The afternoon flew by. Carrie’s excitement over the smallest details had Marcus seeing things through her eyes. She was enchanted by the simplest things, like that damn ratty book she insisted on getting. He could imagine her on a rainy day, all curled up on the sofa with her novel.

He liked being with her. He’d always enjoyed her company at work—now he found that he liked her just as much outside of the office. She was fun, easy to be with. Easy to talk to. It was so nice to fully relax and not have to fucking worry about everything he said or did.

He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her. He found himself touching her constantly, holding her, stroking her arm or just guiding her with a hand on the small of her back.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, brushing his lips across her temple.

“Mmmm, famished,” she replied as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him.

“Let’s get something to eat then head back home.
I’m
hungry for you, woman,” he whispered into her ear.

She laughed, stepping from his hold. “Then let’s eat fast.” She grinned and grabbed his hand, swinging their linked hands between them. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Fifteen

Marcus chose a small café with a patio surrounded by intricate black iron-work. He’d also chosen their menu—crisp salads draped in exotic cheeses and Mediterranean vegetables. The food was amazing, and nothing Carrie would have chosen for herself. Her weekend with Marcus was broadening her horizons in more ways than one.

They talked through the entire meal. She shared funny stories of the wicked escapades she and her sister had carried out, much to their parents’ dismay. She kept Marcus in stitches with her description of her mother’s reaction to the “designer haircut” she’d given Cassidy when she was ten and Cass was eight. Even better was the look on her father’s face when, at sixteen and fourteen, the sisters bleached their hair out before dying it purple and blue.

Marcus reciprocated, sharing stories about life as a young Worthington that made her thank God for her parents. He had no hijinks to share; old Stirling wouldn’t have tolerated them. His stories let her understand his need for control on a whole new level and she was touched and grateful that he trusted her enough to share them.

As the waiter cleared the table, he caught her sending a wistful glance at the dessert tray. There was a chocolate éclair calling her name but she just couldn’t justify the calories.

Without a pause, he ordered the luscious dessert, prompting her to protest.

“Marcus, I appreciate that you like my curves but I’d rather not add any more to them!”

He merely shook his head and replied, “Baby, you don’t ever need to worry about your curves when you’re with me. We’ll definitely find a way to work the calories off.” When she still looked unconvinced, he conceded. “Okay, how about we share it?”

Realizing that this was a battle she couldn’t win, Carrie decided to give in gracefully. That was easy to do when the dessert arrived and he offered her the first heavenly bite.

She’d closed her eyes to savor the taste, so she was caught completely off guard by the caustic female voice that seemed to rip through their serenity like a rusty knife.

“Oh, look darling. My ex-husband is sharing a cream puff with a cream puff!”

Carrie didn’t bother to look behind her. She knew what she’d find. Instead she locked her gaze on Marcus, who’d gone rigid with The Viper’s first word. She could see the storm brewing in his eyes and she gently placed her hand over his, hoping to avoid the blowup she sensed coming.

Obviously not satisfied with their lack of reaction, Marcus’ ex-wife moved to the side of the table. With her was a tall, dark-haired man. Carrie supposed he was attractive enough, in a
Godfather
, mercenary sort of way, but his oiled hair and dead eyes made her distinctly uncomfortable.

The Viper hadn’t changed much. Still beautiful, still blonde, still runway tall and thin, she still embodied everything Marcus tended to look for in a date. She was lovely to look at but the lines around her eyes and mouth weren’t signs of laughter. They were the outward marks of the bitterness that seeped from her very pores.

“Oh,” she continued in an ingenuous voice, “it just gets better!” She slapped playfully at her companion’s arm. “It’s his
secretary!
”

“You sound surprised, love.” The man with The Viper had a voice as smooth and oily as his hair. “Obviously your former husband can’t keep a good woman.” He paused and lifted Karen’s thin, bony hand to his lips. “So he must turn to the common folk.”

Karen gave Carrie a malicious smile. “Indeed you’re right, Carlo. A pudgy little thing like this,” she gestured contemptuously toward her, “is all he could find to play his nasty little games.”

Marcus was all but vibrating now with rage, and frankly Carrie wasn’t far behind him. Still, she was determined to hold her tongue. Anything she said would just encourage the woman. And Marcus didn’t seem to have a problem with her appearance or job status, so she didn’t feel any burning need to defend herself. But when The Viper attacked Marcus, that was another thing entirely.

Karen’s light laugh faded and apprehension replaced the glee in her icy blue eyes as Marcus scowled wrathfully. Before he could speak, though, Carrie beat him to the punch, standing to face The Viper and her greasy companion.

“Karen.”

The other woman flicked her eyebrow at Carrie’s familiarity. While she’d been married to Marcus, she’d always been Mrs. Worthington.

“I realize that someone of your intellect would have such…
base
amusements but I really must ask you to leave our table.”

The other woman looked dumbfounded but Carrie wasn’t done.

“I would have thought Marcus made his distaste for your presence quite clear when he divorced your bony, silicone-filled ass, but perhaps the message wasn’t clear enough.”

Karen now wore an expression of narrow outrage. Her male friend looked amused until she shot a glance in his direction. Then he adopted a suitably fierce scowl.

“Marcus doesn’t want you.” There was a rush of satisfaction in saying the words. The ugly red flush that washed over The Viper’s face was just icing on the cake. “And, since he can have pretty much anyone he
does
want, I’m happy that he wants me.”

Karen looked ready to attack. Carlo looked like he was imagining what exactly Marcus saw in Carrie. Marcus looked ready to commit murder.

“Now, run along with your new friend and leave us alone.” Having spoken her mind, she sat down and waited for the fireworks to start. It didn’t take long.

“Are you going to let that little slut speak to me that way?” Karen’s shriek had their fellow diners looking up in interest. Carlo shook his head and tried to guide Karen from the table, still casting speculative looks in Carrie’s direction. Karen wouldn’t be budged.

“Marcus Worthington, you make her apologize right now and maybe I won’t see your entire family and that mausoleum of a company splashed across the front page of the
Free Press
!” Her long red nails were claws as she strained against Carlo, all her focus narrowed on Marcus. “You think you’ve seen the worst I can do.” Her red lips moved in a snarl, her beauty distorted by her rage. “You’ve seen nothing, darling. Absolutely nothing.”

Carrie didn’t like the ugly turn the encounter was taking and she didn’t want to see it escalate. In a desperate move to distract him, she rose and slipped around the table, sliding onto Marcus’ lap as if she’d been born to be there.

He was still shaking with rage but as she wrapped her arm around his back, squeezing tightly, she felt him begin to calm. Slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was icy but he seemed under control.

“Karen, we are no longer married.” His eyes were glacial as they raked disparagingly over her. “You don’t get to comment on my friends, my lovers, my company or my life. Today you’ve managed to insult all of them.”

Carrie tunneled her free hand through his thick hair when his voice began to rise, once again drawing the attention of their fellow diners.

“I left you, and you made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with me, either.” Karen’s eyes were narrowed slits of malice as Marcus spoke dismissively to her. “Keep it that way. Go play with your new toy and leave me and my woman alone.”

With that, Marcus very obviously turned his attention to Carrie, scooping up a bit of cream filling from their melting dessert with one finger and offering it to her.

Pretending the malevolent couple wasn’t there, she daintily licked his finger clean before sucking it into the warm cavern of her mouth. There wasn’t really anything sexual in the move. It was more about ownership. Marcus claimed her and now she was claiming him.

“You’ll regret this, Marcus Worthington.” Karen’s voice was a vicious hiss, like the viper Daniel had named her for. “Just wait and see. One of these days, your charmed existence will collapse around your perverted ears.” Marcus continued to ignore her, so Carrie did likewise. “We’ll see who’s laughing then!”

Carlo finally succeeded in dragging Karen away and Carrie let herself wilt in Marcus’ lap.

“Wow,” she commented softly. “You were married to that.” When Marcus growled again, she stroked his cheek. “I’m just amazed that you divorced her instead of stabbing her to death with a butter knife.”

His growl turned into a choked laugh and he finally relaxed, burying his face against her neck.