Disillusioned (8 page)

After reaching the table, Tessa glanced up
across the brim of her glass. She thought she caught a look of
displeasure cross Jason's face. “You didn't enjoy the company?”

The space forced between them by her drink
gave Tessa a slight sense of relaxation, her raised hand increasing
the distance just enough to maintain respectability. “Oh, nothing
personal, Jason,” she replied easily. “I wasn't trying to get away
from you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
She had meant only to communicate to Jason that he wasn't the
object of her derision, but she recognized how he might misconstrue
her words. She could tell by the sparkle in his eye that he had
read more into the comment than she intended.

His boldness should have repulsed her. His
attention should have repelled her. Somehow, though, his look of
pleasure ignited her senses, spreading warmth throughout her skin
and shivers down her spine. She groaned inwardly at her sudden
inconstancy; did ten years of marriage mean nothing to her.
Unfortunately, Jason responded to the sudden flush of color on her
cheeks, and when he stepped closer, her power of speech failed
her.

Without warning, a voice knifed through the
air, punching her in the gut and sending her reeling. A moment
later, Merritt's form forced itself into the space between herself
and Jason. “Tessa,” Merritt commanded, though he looked only at
Jason. Her husband quickly placed his arm around her shoulders,
rather more possessively than affectionate, and said, “It's time to
go, Sweetheart.”

Tessa felt herself drowned in guilt, though
her mind tried to cry that she couldn't have helped the evening's
events.

Turning quickly to Jason, Merritt pressed
Tessa behind himself. “Good evening, Jason,” he proclaimed in a
terse, powerful tone. A dismissal, not a greeting.

“Merritt,” replied with equally pained
restraint.

As Merritt led Tessa from
the room, his arm firmly encircling her waist, Tessa seethed with a
confusing mix of anger and regret. Any suspicions Merritt had were
at least somewhat justified, she knew, but somehow it riled her to
know that Merritt trusted her so little. Too, he could easily have
picked a less confrontational method to deal with the situation,
one that didn't humiliate Tessa quite so completely.
Then again,
she
realized,
maybe I like the fact that he
cares enough to interfere.
If she could
have read his actions and words for the past five or so years, she
might just as likely assume that he found her burden rather than a
prize. She tried to suppress the thought, to feel gratitude for
Merritt's solicitous concern, but somewhere in the back of her
mind, the seed took root which told Tessa that she had a choice.
Just because Merritt couldn't appreciate her qualities, someone
else might.

Even as the thought bubbled from the ugly
depths of her heart, Tessa suppressed it in what she knew to be a
futile effort to protect the status quo. An ironic goal, she knew,
for someone who had always prided herself in her defiance. As
Merritt led Tessa to the car, she blinked away the tears that might
have exposed her new struggle to her husband. She did not look
forward to the two weeks ahead.

“What should I pack?” Tessa
queried as she watched Merritt hang up from a business call. “I
know you want to surprise me, but I need to know
that
at least,” she
pouted. To her surprise, Merritt had acted with consideration after
the party than he had for years before.
Maybe I should have flirted with another man a long time
ago,
she deadpanned silently.

Merritt started to answer, but seemed to
think better of it. Turning on her with a smirk, he stepped
directly in front of her, pinning her between the dresser and the
wall. “Is my little minx getting demanding on me?”

Rolling her eyes, Tessa feigned boredom.
“Minx?” she mocked. “What kind of a word is that?” She snorting
with laughter. Then, she lifted on her toes and raised her face to
challenge his. “And I am hardly little.” She stood only three
inches shorter than his 6' frame.

Suddenly, he placed his hands firmly against
the wall on either side of her face and kissed her. “You're small
enough,” he growled. “I can still handle you.”

What a show-off,
she thought.

Relief washed over her as the emotions of the
previous night's episode fled from her mind. When Merritt had found
her, he had seemed irate, and rightfully so. His wife standing
entirely too close to another man – the scene must have seemed
suspect at best.

On the way home, Merritt
had spoken little, a brooding silence filling the car, and
oppressive fear had smothered Tessa into speechlessness. Tessa had
feared that he would blame her, that he would take his anger out on
her for her part in the situation. Of course, Tessa would have
understood. Had she stood in his place, she would have felt
unimaginable anger. True, Merritt had pushed Tessa away earlier
that night, but she couldn't claim that he had pushed her into the
arms of another man. As such, she would not have felt surprised to
catch a serious tongue-lashing from Merritt. He owed her that, at
least.
I wasn't in his arms,
she reminded herself.
I
didn't even touch the man.

Instead of berating, however, Merritt's
silence stretched on through the car ride home and into an
ice-brushed bed. Tessa eventually fell asleep, tired from wracking
her brain to determine how she should respond to him.

In the morning, all evidence of the evening's
events had evaporated from Merritt's countenance, and Tessa found
herself breathing a sigh of relief. Usually, Merritt would ignore
her when she had made him angry. When she entered a room, he would
look away, not so much to punish her, but to control his anger. The
morning seemed so unlike her past experience of his anger that she
had to think he had chosen the higher ground. For once, maybe he
had chosen not unleash his anger on her, though now more than any
other time, she deserved it. Still, though she appreciated his easy
forgiveness, she couldn't entirely trust it. At some point, no
doubt, the other shoe would drop.

Rather than dwell on what she couldn't
control, Tessa tried to go along with Merritt's playful attitude.
She could never resist him when he teased her, playing the dominant
male in a way that mocked both him and her. For Tessa, any attempt
to strong-arm her usually resulted in a mule-headed resistance on
her part. With Merritt, though, they both knew the joke. He would
never actually strong-arm her, and she really would never resist
him.

How could
I
? she wondered as the scent of him washed
over her. The crisp, clean smell of his newly-pressed shirt
entwined with the scent of his own musky skin and intoxicated her.
When he stood above her, she could feel the warm of his body
envelope her, a heady sensation even on his worst day.

Today was not his worst day; on the
contrary, on this day, she longed to lure him to her. With the the
tension of the night's events fresh in her mind, she needed to feel
that he loved her, not just hear it. She stared up into his eyes,
trying to pour all of her affection into her gaze.

“Pack warm clothes,” he stated
nonchalantly, leaning away from her. “I would hate for you to get
cold.”

Disappointment flooded her
as she felt the air chill around her. Maybe Merritt had resented
the previous night after all, she pined as the storm of worries
gathered around her once again.
A roller
coaster,
she lamented.
Today is like a roller coaster. And I hate roller
coasters!
One moment, she relaxed, the
next she mourned, the next she felt lost in confusion. For a
moment, she considered calling off the vacation as all her emotions
churned like angry bees in her mind.

Before she could speak, the mad buzzing of
her thoughts were gone.

In their place stood Merritt, his arms around
her, his mouth on hers. He, no doubt, had intended play with her by
walking away, another toying round in their continuous cat and
mouse game, but to Tessa, the feeling of his embrace felt deadly
serious. It erased all of her self-doubt and unwound all the
anxiety in her mind. If he could hold her like this, then he had
truly forgiven her. Even through the play, Tessa could sense an
intensity, as if Merritt, too, wanted to eradicate the previous
evening's tension.

By the time he stepped away
from her, Tessa's pulse raced. How he could still so easily knock
her off balance she didn't know or understand; the thought brought
a smile to her lips. So strong and beautiful in his youth,
Merritt's few added years had increased his power rather than
diminished it.
Not fair,
she pouted. His physique had not weakened or
waned – if anything he had grown stronger. Years of martial arts
classes had both satisfied his drive for excellence and hardened
his musculature. The hair at his temples had greyed lightly,
perhaps earlier than his years would dictate, but his thick, wavy
hair was still soft and full, and Tessa loved the scent of his
shampoo.

She couldn't help but lean toward his
retreating face to catch the scent, and Merritt grinned in triumph.
Relaxed by the reconciliation, Tessa fell back into their normal,
comfortable play. She gathered all the challenge she could muster
and glared at him in defiance. Such an expression would have
intimidated a lesser man. Merritt, however, never backed down from
a challenge, and he knew better than anyone just how impotent
Tessa's bark could be. Instead of seeming scared, Merritt barked a
cocky laugh. Tessa wanted to punch him; and Tessa wanted to grab
him by the collar and plaster her mouth on his.

As if he read her mind, Merritt reached back
toward her and gripped both of her wrists. He pinned them above her
head and flashed her a feral smile. Before she could protest, he
had pressed his entire body against hers, pinning her to the wall,
and he brought his lips within a breath of hers. Her whole body
shivered.

Merritt laughed, a sudden mirth
lighting his face. “We can't afford to miss the plane,” he teased
in a whisper, “and though you obviously want to, we can't stay in
our bedroom the whole vacation.” He raised his eyebrows
suggestively. “Though I won't say the idea isn't
appealing.”

Without even kissing her, he turned and
strode toward the door.

Tessa threw a pillow at him, and much to her
delight, hit him squarely on the back of the head. “You wish!” she
snapped. “I have no desire to stay here!”

Without warning, he had
reached her side once again and wrapped his arm entirely around her
waist. “Liar,” he leveled wickedly, then delivered the kiss with
which he had teased her only moments before. She hardly breathed,
wishing to prolong the contact as long as possibly, and Merritt
seemed in no hurry to turn away from her. As the heat of the kiss
faded, the corners of Tessa's mouth turned up in a smirk, finally
breaking the heat of the moment and softening the intensity of the
kiss. Her mind had suddenly become aware of something.
I think I actually won this
time
, she thought as her trapped breath
pressed against her lungs. When he finally pulled back, both he and
Tessa wore triumphant grins.

He leaned to his right and
reached gingerly over her shoulder, retrieving his dopp kit from
the nightstand beside her before gliding away without ceremony.
Slowly, she inched herself away from the wall until she felt her
knees strengthen enough to continue her packing.
Maybe he won just a little
, she admitted to herself as she recognized her physical
weakness. Merritt knew exactly how to affect her.

With Merritt, however, Tessa rarely
had control, so at least she had practice managing the vertigo.
Smiling ruefully, Tessa imagined how smug he must have felt. So few
people could ever unsettle Tessa that Merritt took great pleasure
in his abilities. As her emotions settled, Tessa began
to

laugh at herself.
Mechanically, she packed turtlenecks and sweaters, corduroys, thick
socks. She broke into sporadic laughter whenever she thought of
Merritt.
Next time, I'll make sure I
win,
she mused.

In an attempt to fully prepare herself for
the trip, Tessa packed enough clothes for three weeks, assuming
that Merritt's drive for action might result in several wardrobe
changes. She threw a few dresses into a garment bag, making sure to
include the backless dress she had bought several years ago but had
few opportunities to wear. Some tennies, her snow boots, her
lace-up stilettos to match the backless dress, and a couple of less
ostentatious pairs of dress shoes to wear on less formal
occasions.

She stared at the backless dress, a wicked
grin returning to her face. Perhaps the low-cut front and open back
could secure the victory she sought against Merritt. Even if not,
she would enjoy torturing him a little. Beneath Tessa's amused
schemings ran a vein of relief, relief that life – at least, life
with Merritt – had returned to normal. She needed him, and he
needed her, and all was well with the world. With the relief came a
giddiness that fed itself with thoughts of her future. The turn
around from twelve hours before couldn't have felt more
distinct.

Interrupting her thoughts,
Merritt returned to the room, smiling even wider than before, and
announced that the limo had arrived.
Limo;
nice,
thought Tessa. It seemed Merritt
shared her enthusiastic hope for this trip. Merritt brought her
luggage to the front door where the limo driver took over and
stowed the luggage into the storage compartment at the back of the
SUV. Tessa had foregone her comfy jeans in favor of a nicer,
straight-legged pair. She wore a short-sleeved, melon-colored,
cashmere sweater with a low scooping neck, and she had clipped her
long brown hair into a sloppy knot on the back of her
head.