Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (11 page)

Michael sighed heavily as she looked back at him blankly. Carrie wasn’t rolling her eyes, but she didn’t look even remotely convinced either.

“Just tell me what you think you need from me now. I’ll gladly give that to you until you can believe that I’m in love with you,” he said, tired of not just saying the truth. “Because I am absolutely, totally in love with you. I have been for years.”

“After two failed marriages, I’ve given up on happily ever after, Michael. I’ve been loved before, but there’s always a point where it breaks down. Eventually I just see something that makes me think I’m going to be stuck living with someone like my father or Kevin,” Carrie said sadly. “That’s when I get out. I left my husbands. They didn’t leave me.”

“So was your leaving your husbands my fault? Because I wish it was,” Michael said, tightening his hold on her to keep her from pulling away.

Carrie laughed at Michael’s question. Fault? She was so beyond that. If she wasn’t, being here would never work, even temporarily.

“No—none of what I’ve done is your fault or been directly about you. I married men I cared about to have a legitimate sexual outlet, and yes I hoped they would help me forget my history with you in time. I did care about them, Michael, just not enough to fight for the relationship when problems surfaced. Now I would prefer not to harm any current or future man that crosses my path,” Carrie said. “I’m not a bad person, just someone who’s made some bad decisions.”

“Consider yourself welcomed to the club by a card carrying member then,” Michael said, rubbing her arms in support.

Carrie shook her head.

“No—that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been trying to make you the bad guy. It would make this so much easier for me, but I’m starting to see that you’re hurting in our situation too. And I don’t want to make it worse—really, I don’t. At least with you, I know going into the marriage that it’s not going to last forever. I can live in the present and deal with the rest when the time comes,” she said “It’s actually a relief to me not trying to live on the hope it will work out.”

Carrie looked at Michael’s face, not surprised to see her own distress there.

“The truth may be that I’m so mentally messed up, I’ll never be able to have what passes for a normal relationship,” she admitted, believing that to absolutely be the case. “But I don’t want to do anything to keep you from having one after this is over. We’ll have a normal divorce—I promise.”

“That’s bullshit,” Michael said harshly, seeing Carrie’s fears clearly but unwilling to accept them as inalterable. “You are not messed up. You’re one of the most amazing women I know. Heal your heart, damn it. I’m the one for you. It’s been a truth for years.”

Carrie shook her head, unable to even answer him.

“Okay. Don’t believe me, but at least let me express what I feel for you,” Michael demanded. “Be with me tonight. It’s not a real answer, but it might be a place to start looking at how good we are together.”

“Michael, you know I want you, I won’t lie about that, but sex is never—,” Carrie began, only to have the words disappear as Michael tucked her body along the front of his and hugged her close. She breathed in the lingering remainder of his aftershave as her arms came around him. She wanted to curl into the promise of his comfort.

“I’m not perfect, but I’m also not like the other men in your life,” Michael said, bending and lifting Carrie into his arms. He admitted it was his impatience making him do so. She was just so stubborn, especially about them.

“Open your heart to me—just a little,” Michael demanded softly.

Then he started down the hallway with her, carrying her to his room—her room now—hopefully soon, he thought—their room.

Chapter 8

“We never finished our contest,” Michael said, laying Carrie on the bed and climbing in beside her. The rightness of it was like a homecoming.

“Carrie, I’m so thankful you kept our baby. I’m also thankful you’ve agreed to be my wife. Tonight, I’d like to be thankful for more, but this can’t be about me taking advantage of you. We’ve done that too much already,” he said sincerely.

Carrie searched Michael’s face for some sign that being intimate with him was going to be just one more mistake in a long line for her, but she didn’t find anything other than hope in his gaze. Wanting him was the secret that lived in her heart, so really what decision was there to make? She was already physically his. She carried his live brand inside her.

“Michael,” she said hoarsely, trying not to cry. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“It’s okay whatever you decide,” he said, smoothing her hair back as he stroked her cheek. “I don’t know either. At this moment, I’m just happy to be lying next to you.”

Well, she thought, if this was going to happen, if she was going to be with him again, this time should be just a mutual seeking of pleasure, not some soul-stealing event that would have her avoiding him tomorrow.

Maybe being honest with this man for once would start to redeem her.

“Michael, I’m very, very, very thankful you didn’t cut your hair,” she said, reaching out a hand to touch his face.

Then the tears fell because speaking even the smallest truth liberated many other emotions about Michael from the death grip she normally kept on them. No matter how well she tucked away the pain of the past, pregnancy had flooded her with too much estrogen to remain stoic.

“Ssssh. . .,” Michael said, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. I knew how you felt even when you weren’t admitting it. It just hurt my feelings because being with you was the best sexual experience of my life.”

“You don’t have to keep flattering me,” Carrie said softly. “You’ve been with a lot of women. I’ve been around enough men to know most collect sexual experiences like baseball cards. They just keep them locked away until another collector comes along and wants to compare.”

“No other woman has been like you, and that’s the truth,” Michael said flatly, feeling frustrated that he had no way to convince her. He couldn’t deny that he had done his own collecting, but he thought of it now as more like searching. And the search had ended with her.

Carrie stroked her hand over his now rough jaw. “Regardless of what is or isn’t truth, I can be fair enough to give you back the supportive words you so freely gave me today. So listen up, Larson—no matter how many women you’ve been with or how much you enjoyed them, I accept that at the time you were only living your life the best way you knew how. So this is me saying I’m officially not going to beat you up over that anymore,” she said.

“Nice to hear, but not nearly good enough, Carrie Addison. I want you to believe me when I say I love you. I’m going to just keep working on our relationship until you do,” Michael said, his ego soothed but not satisfied.

“Michael, I negotiate with people for a living. This is my best offer to help get us through the next few months. Take it while you can,” Carrie told him, smiling into the dark.

“Fine. I’ll take the concession because it’s hard to walk around feeling guilty all the time when I never meant to hurt you,” Michael said.

Typical man
, Carrie thought, but without malice. Michael might genuinely be shocked at how many of the women he’d bedded where she worked still hoped to win him back. Erin for sure was not going to be happy about their marriage. She had told Carrie many times that one day she and Michael would get together again because they were so compatible between the sheets.

Yet even feeling resentful of his rationalization, the maleness of Michael Larson called to her anyway. While the attraction alone would never tip the scales toward him, his loyalty in front of her family had won him her respect today. The least she could do to show her gratitude was stop punishing him for a past neither of them could change.

The least she could do for herself was give herself permission to take what he was offering.

“Michael Larson, you are hereby granted dispensation from my resentment of your womanizing past. Stated dispensation will last for the duration of our personal arrangement. I’ll even let you amend the prenuptial agreement just so you have a way to hold me legally accountable to my promise,” Carrie said, trying to joke about it. “You may now seduce me. I know you like to be the one in control.”

“Good to see you getting back to your usual bossy self,” Michael said dryly, stalling while he wondered how far dispensation was from the forgiveness he sought, and what Carrie really felt. Her words didn’t ring very true to him.

“Bossy? Yes, I guess that’s fair. Kevin woke up the warrior woman in me today when he hit you,” Carrie said carefully. “Morning sickness has kicked my butt for a couple months now, but I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself.”

“We all need a champion now and again. I’m glad I got to be yours today,” Michael said. “I’m thinking about adding
dragon slayer
to my business cards. I like the way it sounds.”

Laughing when she laughed, Michael rolled over onto Carrie, forgetting her fragility as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down into her to hold him close. Their bodies were made to fit together every bit as well as their mouths did.

“I’ve missed you every day we haven’t done this,” Michael told her.

“I want you too, Michael,” Carrie said. “Just don’t ask me to pretend it’s more than that.”

“Okay. If I have to believe you don’t want more than sex, then you have to believe that I want nothing more than to be buried inside you forever,” Michael told her sincerely. “Want to see my evidence? It’s pretty concrete.”

Carrie laughed at his innuendo but had to agree with the description.

Michael felt her heartbeat pounding in excitement against his as he pressed his whole body down on hers.

“So, warrior woman, now that you’re feeling better—tell me what you want in bed so I can give it to you,” he demanded, bringing his hands to her breasts and kneading until she arched into them and moaned like he’d wanted earlier. “You’ve got about ten seconds to make your requests before I show you what a dragon slayer does after two months of celibacy.”

Dizzy with desire, Carrie reached around Michael and slipped the loose band from his hair until it cascaded in a black curtain over both of them.

“You,” she whispered, gathering handfuls of black silk as she closed her eyes in pleasure. “I want you.”

Michael frowned as he worked on buttons, hooks, snaps and zippers as Carrie docilely stroked his hair. Her acquiescence disturbed him and had him growing more nervous with every barrier he loosened.

When Michael finally paused long enough to notice Carrie’s expression, the look of awe on her face as she combed fingers through his hair had him tipping over the edge of rational, gentle behavior, and straight into hands trembling as they roughly tugged at the cloth separating them.

Then Michael stopped, realizing that if he let this mood rule their love-making, he might actually hurt her. His blood was racing. His heart was pounding, and his erection was so insistent that holding back hurt.

He wanted Carrie too fiercely to be gentle and was pent-up from two months of waiting to be with her again.

No
, he thought.
Not like this
. He was not making love to her like this.

Michael kissed her deeply, and then rolled off her and away.

“Give me a minute or two. It’s been a long time and I need to calm down,” Michael said softly, swallowing hard and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t be tempted to look at her partially nude body and lose his resolve.

Carrie turned her face to him, her turquoise eyes glittering as she stared at the wild-eyed man lying at her side. She slid the rest of her clothes off, then reached over and went to work on Michael’s.

“I don’t want you to be calm,” she informed him firmly, her displeasure with him coloring her tone. “If we’re doing this, I want you—the real you. Damn it, Michael. My hands are trembling. Finish undressing yourself. I don’t have the patience right now.”

Carrie pulled her hands away from him, clenching them in fists at her side as she lay back down.

Because her tone was as now as agitated as his, Michael said nothing in reply. Finally doing as Carrie asked, he removed the rest of his clothes and rolled back to face her.

Reaching out, Carrie’s hand found and gripped the evidence of just how much he wanted her. Michael had been like this with her before. The man seemed to be all hard lines in bed.

“You’re worried about hurting me, aren’t you?” she demanded.

“Yes,” Michael said through gritted teeth, but he wasn’t going to stop Carrie from touching him after waiting so long.

“Well, stop worrying,” Carrie said, stroking firmly as she listened to him moan. “You won’t hurt me.”

Because of her sickness, she had been drowning in self-pity, Carrie thought. That’s not how she had survived her life, or her relationships. And that wasn’t how she wanted to be, feeling sorry was not going to be part of the person she’d made of herself.

Climbing over Michael, Carrie straddled his hips, her hand guiding him inside her. As she sank down completely on him, there was relief and a feeling of entitlement way too delicious not to enjoy completely. She carried his child. That gave her more of a claim to him than anyone else had.