Ms. Manwhore (Manwhore #2.5)(7)

“What happened to the conference call?”

“I seem to have developed a new ability that’s called rescheduling.”

He spreads a jacket, black as midnight, down on the ground right next to me, and signals for me to sit.

Seeing him after these intense past twenty-four hours is making me ache more powerfully than ever before. “You know, I like touching the earth.” I slip my fingers into the dirt a little and then lift them and dust them off. “It grounds me.”

When he only looks at me in the shadows and settles down next to his jacket, making me nervous to know what he’s thinking about that makes him so pensive and quiet, I feel flutters all over me. AAARGH. We were just in bed together last night.

In fact we’ve been in bed every night together for more than four months.

My eyes widen when he reaches out and picks me up from the ground and straight to his lap. Every bit of him is surrounding me, enveloping me, maddening me. Malcolm turns his head and narrows his eyes when he notices, like me, that some people are whispering and pointing at us.

Self-conscious, I drop my face and his lips press warmly into my ear. “I’m going to cry when I walk up the altar.”

“I’ll hold you.”

“I’ll be alone walking up there with no dad.”

“Your mom can walk you to me. And then I’ve got you. For the rest of your life or mine.”

It strikes me that he, too, will be alone waiting for me up there. No father, no mother, just his best man and groomsmen. Saint will be the only man in my life, and I’ll be the only living family that he loves.

“Did you like being an only child?”

“No.”

I peer into his face. “So you’d be fine with us having two? When we’re ready?”

He chucks my chin and chides me: “Where’s your sense of adventure, Rachel? I was thinking more along the lines of four.”

“I’m going to kill you.” My eyes flare wide. “Four Saints running around the penthouse?”

“I can get a double penthouse. And nannies for each.”

“I’d be fat for almost four years. Of my life!”

His eyes grow lusty as he spreads his hand widely, encompassing my flat stomach. “You’d be pregnant. With my children.”

I blush. “So you want a Kyle, a Logan, and a Preston . . .”

“I want a mini-Rachel.” He squeezes my tummy and looks pleadingly at me.

“Noooo. You can’t have her. It’s a boy first . . . my precious little Saint. See, why should we wait to get married? The sooner we get married, the more we can enjoy each other before the babies come.”

“We need to wait.”

“So I can sign your prenup contract?”

“That one. And the one making you my wife.” He loves my greediness. I can tell he loves that I’m eager to have him. “Do you realize this is something I never thought I’d want? I can’t think of anything else but making you my wife. My priority is merging your life with mine.”

He looks greedy and anticipatory and strong and tender.

My walls have crumbled before him and I don’t ever want them back up. My lids are heavy, but so are his. We’re both tired after our sex marathon last night.

But I still want him, every second more and more.

Barely surviving the dull throb between my legs and in my heart, I lift my head and kiss his jaw and settle back down at his side, close for warmth.

“Look at me. I was just sitting on the ground . . . with bare feet. I’m a simple girl. I like simple. And I want us to get married without the world watching us so closely.”

“You chose the wrong guy.”

“I’ve got enough complexities in my guy . . . so if we have a simple wedding then we can get to the good stuff. Like a honeymoon.”

“You would deny me the pleasure of giving you a big wedding?”

“I wouldn’t deny you anything, much less myself.”

I close my eyes, relaxing against him. Saint works so hard and leads such a fast-paced life, I treasure my calm moments with him.

“But I do want you to be my wife as soon as possible,” he tells me. “And I do want to protect you from the media frenzy.”

My eyes fly open. “You do?”

“You’re my passion, Rachel. More than work. We’ll do what makes you happy.”

“What about you?”

“Either one we go for, I get what I want.”

He pulls me back against him. We fall silent and just stay there, leaning against the tree trunk.

PEACE, a sign posted by a fellow camper, stares back at me. I’m doing one of the things I most love, with the guy of my dreams. My body starts relaxing into its arousal and into him. My body’s on fire and my soul is serene. Peace is what I find in his arms.

Peace and wildfire.





MOMENTUM


We’ve settled on a small wedding with our fifty closest friends. Malcolm is making plans to fly everyone to a little island in the Caribbean exactly five weeks from now. Nobody knows but our small circle, and we plan to keep it that way. That Sunday when we finally have all our plans in motion, Saint shoots Tahoe a call about keeping a lid on it. Tahoe has been warned.

On Monday, we meet with the lawyers.