Forever in Love (9 page)

“I don’t have a husband.” Catherine’s harsh whisper startled him.

His gaze fell on her left hand. “But you have a ring.”

She looked at her finger. “I do have a ring,” she agreed. “It’s a reminder not to repeat the mistake.” She looked him directly in the eye. “I’ve been extremely naïve and foolish.”

* * *

Catherine noted the skepticism in Blaine’s eyes, like he didn’t quite believe her. Why wouldn’t he? Did he think she’d lie about something like this? “I was married until a few months ago,” she began, then stopped. Why was she explaining herself anyway? But when Blaine’s gaze focused on her, she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to tell her side of the story, the one that nobody bothered to listen to, not even her own mother. “I…” Where should she begin?

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he said.

“But I do. Everyone’s heard everyone else’s point of view but mine. It’s about time I told my side.” She speared a big strawberry piece from her bowl. “I married this guy, thinking he loved me. He told me he did even though he knew I was with his younger brother at that time. His brother wasn’t bad or anything. He was just kind of…cold and emotionally distant. We would’ve been materially comfortable, but otherwise disconnected and unhappy with each other. So when the older brother approached so sweetly and promised me the world, I couldn’t help myself. I became infatuated, then fell in love with him.” She paused and gave a long soft sigh. “Our marriage was perfect for about a year. Then things slowly started to fall apart. We wanted to have children, but it turned out we…couldn’t. He became busier at work. I sometimes wonder how many nights away from home were spent working and how many were at strip joints and…other places.”

“He wasn’t faithful?”

She shrugged, then steeled herself for the dull pain to come. “Probably not. Not that I ever found out for sure. It was better not to know. That way I wouldn’t have to do something about it. I didn’t want our marriage to fall apart. We were a perfect couple in public, and I had my pride. But at home we were like strangers, barely talking to each other. Then his wife showed up.”

Blaine’s fork stopped in mid-air. “
What?
”

“He had—has—another wife. He married her first, so she’s actually his real wife, not me. I found out last year. Then his family discovered the family business he’d been managing was in big trouble. Some money’s missing, and things look very bad.”

“Jesus.”

“And they blame me.”

“Why?”

“I was on the board of directors.”

“So? Were you making all the decisions?”

“No. I let my husband do whatever he wanted. I had no reason to think he wouldn’t know what to do. He’s smart. Has an Ivy League degree.” Every one of her in-laws knew this, but somehow they blamed her. As if stupid Catherine, the one her teachers had thought was so slow and dim-witted, would somehow know how to embezzle money even if she had the chance.

She hadn’t been able to do anything right in her life, and acknowledging it hurt.

“So what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to fight them?” Blaine asked.

The notion stunned her. “Fight them?”

“What they’re doing to you is messed up. If you haven’t done anything wrong, you should fight back.”

She tilted her head. “With what? I have no resources, and I’m basically…nothing. His family has private investigators, forensic accountants and an army of lawyers on retainer. They have enough money to finance a civil war in some third world country. How am I supposed to fight people like that?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned. “But I can’t help but feel there’s gotta be something you can do to make them back off.”

The sentiment was sweet. But she knew better; there was no justice in the world for people who couldn’t afford it.

“And what about your folks? Aren’t they helping you?” he asked.

“My father passed away years ago, and my mother thinks I’m to blame for my marriage falling apart.”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, she thinks that I should have somehow known that my husband was already married…and hiding it from me. But that’s Olivia for you. She is what she is. I just need to take a deep breath and do what I can to minimize the damage.”

“That’s messed up. And unfair.”

She shrugged. “Life’s always unfair. My in-laws are determined to protect my faux-husband, so they’re gathering evidence to use against me. They also have lots of influential friends, and people tend to stick with who they know.”

“Haven’t you met anyone over the years who can defend you?”

“Plenty of people. But most of them are also close to my in-laws. And my cousins…well, they don’t like me much, so that’s that. I’ve never been the nicest person.” She’d always been too scared to be nice. If anybody got too close, they might have realized that her whole act was a sham—a pretty façade without anything else to offer. When her youth faded away, she’d be nothing. Less than nothing. Pitiable, even.

And she couldn’t stand the thought of it. Catherine Scarlett Fairchild was
not
pitiable. Contemptible, perhaps, but never pitiable.

But right now, looking into Blaine’s soft gaze, she knew she’d screwed up. She’d said too much, and now he’d think she was some pathetic washout from life. Damn it. She’d wanted him to see her differently, not as some spoiled bitch like so many others thought. If he was astute, though, he would realize she was too stupid to be saved and had too short a shelf life left to be of value.

For some time she’d regretted wasting so many of her best years on Jacob…but she’d never regretted it more than now.

* * *

Blaine’s heart ached for Catherine. It didn’t matter if you weren’t the nicest person. Who was perfect? Nobody deserved to have their life destroyed that way. He couldn’t understand how people didn’t stand by her, not even her own mother.

His mother had been uneducated and probably backward to many—she hadn’t even finished high school—but she’d always put her family first. She would never have kicked him, verbally or otherwise, when he was down. How could anybody function without a supportive family?

Then he remembered how furious Catherine had been about the stolen purse. She’d probably expected things to be made right since she was the victim. Nobody in town could deny it; everyone knew about Willie Rae’s sticky fingers. It must’ve been a kick in the gut to be told the sheriff wasn’t going to act on her behalf.

A sense of shame curdled like bad milk in Blaine’s belly. He hadn’t spoken up for her. He’d just thought she was making too big a deal out of the purse when she’d been assured it’d be returned to her eventually.

“Anyway, that’s enough. A sob story is no way to start the morning.” Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and she finished her fruit salad.

Except it wasn’t a sob story. She hadn’t said it to get his sympathy or play him the way Zoe had. Catherine had been intent on telling her story, not gauging his reactions so she could adjust her words for maximum sympathy. “I don’t mind,” he said.

“Don’t you?” She rose from her seat and put her dishes into the sink. She paused there for a moment, gazing out the window toward the hills in the distance, then turned and padded toward him, the edges of the robe swirling around her ankles. Her pink-tipped finger hit his chest then traveled slowly down his torso. “Do you know what I’d like?”

She seemed to leave a trail of fire on his chest. His breath caught at the intimate tone of her voice. “Tell me,” he murmured.

“I like show better than tell.” She brushed her lips over his, the touch light and delicate.

Blaine stayed still, but she could feel the energy in his body change. Catherine smiled to herself. This was one way to yank his mind away from her pathetic story, so he wouldn’t have the time or focus left to put things together.

She ran her tongue over his lips, and thrilled at his sharp intake of breath. But a part of her was wound tight with hesitation and nerves.

It’d been two years since she’d been with a man. Jacob hadn’t wanted to touch her once he’d realized she couldn’t get pregnant naturally. “Why bother?” he’d said. “Might as well hump a mannequin.”

She was almost sure he hadn’t gone without sex, but she’d pretended everything was fine. It was better than having a PI tailing him until she had proof of his infidelity. Then she wouldn’t have been able to pretend her marriage was still perfect.

If she could just prove to herself she wasn’t some worthless thing, but a desirable woman who deserved tenderness and passion…

She shook herself mentally. She didn’t want to use Blaine, no matter how willing and available he was, to just prove Jacob wrong and assuage her wounded psyche. That would make her no better than her bigamist husband.

Apparently tired of waiting for her to make the next move, Blaine wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. She gasped at the shocking heat. He pulled her down until she was straddling him.

“I liked what you were doing earlier,” he murmured against her ear.

His erection prodded against her. Her vocal cords no longer worked.

“Do you really want this?” he asked.

Did she ever. If she let him make the move, then it wouldn’t be like she was using him, would it? It’d be like she was—what? Just…participating. Just going with the flow, right?

She was so scared she was not only a pretty shell with nothing inside like Jacob had said but also a horrible, arrogant human being like so many in her life had implied. She wanted to believe she wasn’t like that, and that she didn’t deserve any of what had happened to her.

“Catherine?” Blaine brushed his thumb along her jaw line. “If you don’t want to do this, tell me now and I’ll stop.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “I want this. I want you.” The last word came out like a sigh.

His blue eyes deepened, and he kissed her.

And oh what a kiss it was. His lips felt just as amazing as the first night she’d bartended. They moved firmly and surely against hers. His tongue tasted her gently, like he was afraid to spook her. She shoved her hands into his warm, silky hair. Everything about the moment was perfect as he drew her closer to the fire he was building, the promise of pleasure to come.

She trembled as her sex grew slick with heat. This felt so different and new, almost like it was her first time. She had never chosen a lover out of pure need. When she’d dated it was because her dates could make up for what she didn’t have and offer her protection or care or something. But with Blaine, she wanted the man, not a quid pro quo.

Her shoulders tingled as his hand pushed away her robe. He studied the curves of her bared breasts, tracing them with his fingertips as he continued to kiss her. She opened her mouth wider, sucked his tongue like it was his cock and fitted her body better against his, cradling his erection between her legs. His chest rumbled with a moan, and she put her hands on his torso, feeling his heart pump furiously underneath her palm.

She was the center of his focus, his desire. The female side of her that had been long neglected gloried in it.

She unbuttoned his shirt and found a chest covered with brown hair. He was so big and solid, and she loved everything about his male body. The strength in his arms must have been ten times hers, but she felt utterly safe. It was as though a part of her recognized he’d never do anything to hurt her.

“Bedroom,” he whispered raggedly. “We’re not doing this in your kitchen.”

“Upstairs,” she said. “Last door, end of the hall.”

He lifted her and carried her effortlessly up the staircase. She felt like Scarlett in
Gone with the Wind
, about to be ravished, and clenched her thighs in anticipation.

Yes
,
yes
,
yes!

He shouldered the door open and laid her carefully on the giant bed. The sheet felt cool against her heated skin, and she gasped at the sensation. He pulled the robe off her like he was unwrapping a precious gift. There was so much focus in his eyes, and he drank her in like he would memorize every pore, every curve.

Suddenly self-conscious, she put her hands up around her torso. She’d been pretty good about dieting, but she’d neglected the yoga and Pilates once Jacob’s bigamy had come to light. And she was sure it showed.

Against eighteen year-olds
,
you’re a fossil
.

Her mother’s remark cut into the haze of desire. It took more effort to stay trim and toned now that she was older, and she should’ve never stopped exercising.

“Honey, don’t hide yourself from me.” Blaine took her wrists in his large hands. “You’re gorgeous. Let me admire you.”

“But—”

“Don’t you believe me?” He pulled her hand and put it over his thick and solid length. “You think I can fake this?”

Licking her lips, she shook her head. There was no way he could be this hard if he didn’t want her. He kissed her again and played with her nipple. It puckered and lengthened, desperate for more. Pleasure that was almost too sharp streaked from the tip of her breast all the way to her toes. Her legs opened and cradled him between them.

He groaned softly. “God, I can feel your wetness through my pants.”

“Take them off,” she said breathlessly. “Take off everything.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. He shed his clothes quickly, revealing a beautifully sculpted body. Clean, lean planes and lines created a perfect symmetry and harmony. The thick muscles hinted at unbelievable strength, but she’d seen how careful he was with her. The control he exercised was sexier than the raw power of his body, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with his physique. Blaine was a work of art.

His cock jutted out, thick and proud with veins standing up in an intricate pattern. Her mouth watered at the sight of it, and she reached for him.

“Wait. You don’t have protection, do you?” he asked.

She shook her head, her chest tight. Should she tell him it didn’t matter since she probably couldn’t get pregnant anyway? But it was her private little shame, something that didn’t work right with her body. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell anybody, and she couldn’t say it to Blaine either. This wasn’t about her problems. This was about need and two consenting adults making each other feel good.