Love at First Flight (5 page)

“You know it was the only weekend we
could get the club.”

“Oh, well, if that's the case, who cares
if it's a bad weekend for the groom?”

“I don't know why you're being so
unreasonable. It's like you don't even care about our wedding.”

“I don't. I tried to tell you that last
night, but you didn't want to hear it. What I
care
about is the marriage, but I'm starting to seriously wonder if
I even want that.”

 
She recoiled as if he had hit her.
“Michael.”

Her mother joined them. “Everything all
right?”

With her hand resting over her heart,
Paige stared at her fiance in stunned silence.

“Everything's fine,” Michael said. “Are
we done here?”

“Yes,” Paige said softly. “We're done.”

“Okay, then,” Eleanor said. “Let's go
home for lunch. I have the books from the stationery store at the house, so you
can pick the invitations this afternoon.” She rattled on without realizing the
happy couple wasn't listening.

***

Michael struggled with his bow tie in
front of the mirror in the guest bathroom. He never had figured out how to tie
a bow tie properly, which was something every other man in Paige's life was
probably born knowing how to do. He hadn't had much need for that skill before
he met her.

Taking another stab at the tie, he
thought back to the first time he ever saw her, across the room at a gathering
of third-year law students at the dean's house. She had come with her father,
the dean's friend, and Michael could still remember the lavender cashmere
sweater and matching wool skirt she wore to the late-afternoon cocktail party.

The Admiral had been in full dress
uniform, and he somehow managed to command a room full of digni-taries. When
Michael's gaze connected with Paige, she smiled and rolled her eyes behind the
back of her father who gestured as he made an emphatic point in the
conversation he was having with the dean, the District of Columbia police
chief, the junior senator from Maryland, and the state's attorney from
Baltimore City.

Michael tipped his head toward the bar,
inviting her to join him for a drink. He watched her whisper to her father, who
nodded without missing a beat in his conversation.

“Whew,” she said when they met at the
bar. “Thanks for the lifeline.”

Michael chuckled. “My pleasure. Buy you
a drink?”

“White wine, please,” she said to the
bartender.

Michael ordered another beer. “Michael Maguire.”

She shook his hand. “Paige Simpson.”

They moved out of the party fray to sit
by the fire.

She slid off her black pumps. “It feels
good to sit down.”

Watching transfixed as she stretched her
long legs, he was startled when his penis sprang to life.
Holy junior high!
He quickly shifted his eyes up to find that her
porcelain complexion had grown rosy from the heat of the fire. In her blue eyes
he saw intelligence, laughter, and a touch of mischief. He cleared his throat. “So
what brings you to our exciting shindig?”

“My father.” She nodded to the Admiral. “My
mother had a meeting, so he asked me to come along.”

“Is he stationed at the Pentagon?”

“No, the Naval Academy. He's the
superintendent.”

Michael released a low whistle. “That
must be nice.”

She smiled. “It's not bad.”

“What about you? What do you do?”

“My father says I'm a professional
student. I'm an undergrad here at Georgetown. I've switched majors a few times,
so I'm on the six-year plan. I'll finally be getting an art history degree in May.”

That made her twenty-four, Michael
figured. She seemed both older than that and younger at the same time. The face
was that of a child but the eyes were those of a woman, and they were studying
him with interest.

“And you're at the law school?”

“Yes. Almost done, thank God. Just a few
more months to go.”

“Then what?”

“I don't know yet. I think about going
home to Rhode Island to open a practice. That's what I've always wanted to do,
but I love living in D.C. So the jury's still out.”

She smiled at the legal pun.

“Paige, honey, there you are,” a voice
boomed from behind them.

“Dad, this is Michael Maguire, a third
year at the law school.”

Michael stood to shake his hand. “Pleased
to meet you, Admiral.”

“Yes, likewise.” The Admiral turned to
his daughter. “We need to be getting back to Annapolis. I have a faculty
meeting tonight.”

“But my new friend Michael just asked me
to have dinner with him, so I can't leave yet,” she said with a sly smile and
wink for Michael.

“You don't have your car.”

“I'd be happy to bring her home after
dinner, sir,” Michael said. He was rewarded with a bright smile from Paige that
once again caught the attention of another part of his anatomy.
Christ!

“Well, then, I guess that's fine.” The
Admiral kissed his daughter's forehead. “Don't be out too late. You know how
your mother worries. It was nice to meet you, Michael. Drive carefully with my
daughter.”

Michael shook his hand again. “Yes, sir.”

They watched the Admiral consult with
his friend the dean and saw him nod with approval.

“Looks like you just got the okay from
the dean,” Paige whispered.

“It's a good thing because I was
thinking about asking you to have dinner with me.”

She laughed. “That's a wonderful idea.
I'd love to.”

***

A soft knock on the guest room door
brought Michael back to the present. Opening the door, he found Paige wearing a
pale pink strapless silk gown, her hair in a sleek French twist.

“You look stunning.” Michael stepped
aside to let her in.

“Thank you. Are you ready?”

They had exchanged only a few tense
words since their argument in the mall.

“Well, you know the tie always gives me
trouble.”

“Let me,” she said, ushering him toward
the bathroom mirror.

He squatted down so she could wrap her
arms around him from behind.

She knotted the tie with quick, confident
movements and then rested her hands on his shoulders.

“I don't know how you do that.” He
adjusted the tie into place on his tuxedo shirt. Catching her gaze in the
mirror, he noticed tears in her eyes and turned to her. “What's this?” He
brushed at a tear before it could mar her eye makeup.

She shrugged.

“Paige?”

“I can't stop thinking about what you
said before. Did you mean it?”

“I've been having some worries lately. I
won't deny that.”

“About us?”

He nodded.

“And you wait until the day of our engagement
party to mention them to me?”

“Actually, I tried to mention them last
night,” he reminded her.

She clutched her stomach. “I think I'm
going to be sick.”

“Paige! Michael! Are you coming? We need
to go,” Eleanor called from downstairs.

“Just a minute,” Michael replied before
he turned back to Paige. “Let's enjoy the party. There'll be time to talk
later.” He held out a hand to her.

“Do you still love me, Michael?” Her
blue eyes glis-tened with new tears as she held her breath and waited for his
reply.

Leaning in to kiss her, he suddenly
thought of Juliana and her soft, captivating brown eyes. Unsettled, he said, “Of
course I do. Come on, your parents are waiting for us.”

CHAPTER 6

AFTER THEIR EMOTIONAL DISCUSSION ON THE
BEACH, Jeremy devoted himself to showing the reluctant Juliana a good time.
They drove south along A1A to Saint Augustine where they walked through the
Spanish Quarter. He tugged her over to look at rings in a jewelry store window.

“If you could have any one of them,
which one would you choose?” he asked with a playful smile.

She pulled her hand free. “Don't, Jer.”

“Come on.” He brought her back. “Just
look.”

The diamonds glittered in the late afternoon
sun. Only yesterday this discussion would have made Juliana's heart dance with
excitement, but now she just felt dead inside.

“Which one do you like? How about the
square one? That's cool, isn't it?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“Let's go in so you can try it on.”

“No.”

“Jule—”

“I said
no
”

“Is there
anything
I can do?” he pleaded. “I want to take back everything I
said this morning. I want to go back to where we were before.”

“You can't take it back, and you
shouldn't have to. You were honest about how you feel.”

“Then tell me how
you
feel,” he said with quiet desperation.

She looked straight into his eyes. “I
hurt,” she whis-pered. “Everywhere.”

“I'm sorry.” He took a sudden interest
in his feet. “I love you so much. That I could've hurt you like this kills me.”

“Can we go back to the hotel? I don't
want to be here.”

“Sure.” He put his arm around her and
led her to the car.

Back in their room, Juliana still didn't
feel up to talking, so she decided to take a nap.

“Do you mind if I go for a run on the
beach?”

“No, that's fine.”

After he left, Juliana stretched out on
the big bed and turned so she could see the ocean. Would the sound of waves
crashing on the beach always remind her now of Jeremy telling her he wanted
other women? She ached when she thought about life without him—a life that
revolved around her mother, her job, and her endless responsibilities. But how
could she stay with him knowing what she did?

Losing him would be like severing a
limb, only more painful. For so long he had been her refuge, her sanc-tuary,
her place of peace in the storm of her life. She closed her eyes and must have
dozed off because she awoke with a start when Jeremy returned from running.

“Babe,” he whispered. “Are you sleeping?”

Juliana kept her eyes closed so he would
think she was asleep. She couldn't deal with any more just then. When she
didn't answer him, he went into the bathroom to shower. At home he
sang—badly—in the shower, but here he was quiet.

He came out a short time later and
squatted down next to her, brushing the hair off her face and kissing her
forehead. A few minutes later, he stood up.

Juliana opened her eyes. He had a towel
around his waist and was slumped against the big window.

“Jer?”

Turning to her, his face a picture of
devastation, he said, “I'm sorry, Juliana. I'm so sorry.” She held out her arms
to him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned
into her embrace. “I don't know how to fix this.”

Touched by his raw despair, she brought
him down for a soft kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her and
shifted her under him in the middle of the big bed. “Jule,” he whispered
against her lips, “I love you so much. Let me show you.”

She arched into him, her arms tightening
around him in surrender to the familiar dance.

He pulled back to gaze down at her
before he tugged the shirt over her head. Capturing her hands, he left a
lingering kiss on each palm and put them on the pillows.

“Leave them there,” he whispered,
running his index finger straight down the middle of her, between her breasts
and over her belly.

She trembled and fought the urge to
reach for him.

Unbuttoning her shorts, he slid them and
her panties over her hips and tossed them aside, all the while keeping his eyes
fixed on hers.

He gave her ear his full attention then
left wet, hot kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, and the end of her nose.

She tried to capture his lips, but he
shifted to focus on her neck.

She moaned.

With the flip of two fingers over the
front clasp of her bra, he freed her breasts and kissed her everywhere but
where she craved him most. When he finally rolled her nipple between his teeth,
she lifted off into a soaring climax that shook them both to the core. In all
their years together, it had never happened like that for her.

He rested against her until she caught
her breath and then devoured her mouth in a series of kisses that left her weak
with desire. Cupping her, his fingers coasted through her slickness. As another
orgasm rolled through her in soft waves, he raised himself to enter her. He
gave her everything he had, as if it was their first time—or maybe their last.

And when it was over, he lay gasping on
top of her, his eyes bright with emotion. “I love you, Juliana. I'll love you
forever.”