SILENT DESIRES

She leaned forward and kissed him, still holding his face in her hands. She stroked her hands through his hair and then over his cheeks again, smiling a tender smile all the while.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“We make quite a pair, don’t we? We’ve made mistakes. But I like to think that we haven’t given up. And that maybe we’re stronger for it all. It makes me hurt that you’ve given up so much for me. Your family. The place you grew up in. And you gave it up, bought a beautiful house you knew I’d love all because you loved me. If I don’t forgive you then I’m denying myself that love and I don’t want to live without you, Matt. Or your love. Not anymore. The last months have been the worst of my life. I don’t ever want to relive that kind of agony again.”

He pulled her into his arms, leaning forward so they didn’t tumble into the sand. He held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. They were together. Finally, Without all the hurt and pain of the past. Without reservations or barriers.

As soon as she’d told him she loved him and that she forgave him it was like the weight of the world had been lifted. She felt lighter and freer than she’d ever felt. She felt…happy. Joyously, giddily happy.

“I love you so damn much, Savannah,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve always loved you. I never stopped loving you. I went to bed at night thinking about you, worrying and wondering where you were, if you were happy, if you were all right. I made all sorts of excuses for hiring someone to find you but the truth was that I couldn’t live without you.”

She smiled and leaned her forehead against his.

“Do you think maybe we can stop beating ourselves up over things we can’t change and make a pact to love each other for the rest of our lives and be happy for every day of them?” she asked.

He slid his hands over her arms, up to her neck to cup her face again. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I can do that.”

He pulled away, smiling, his eyes raw with emotion. “Marry me, Savvie. Right away. I don’t want to wait even a day. Marry me here on our beach. Just you and me.”

“Our beach,” she said softly. “I love the sound of that. And yes, I’ll marry you. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

For the longest time they sat there on the steps leading to their beach. A beach where they’d raise their children. Where they’d laugh and love and remember how they’d pledged their love and made vows to stay together through all the trials that life threw at them.

They sat until the sun sank below the horizon and the soft colors of dusk settled over the ocean. And then when the moon rose and spilled silver over the water, Matt carried Savannah down to the beach and they danced to the soft melody of the rolling waves.

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Barefoot and wearing a pair of cotton crop pants and T-shirt, Tess flipped through the baby magazine she had picked up in the doctor’s office the day before. Her clothes and lack of makeup were in defiance to her husband’s ego and her own emotions. As promised, she was waiting for Dash, but she refused to gild the lily for this confrontation.

She tucked her feet up on the small sofa in the outer room of her and Dash’s suite. At least they would have privacy here for their discussion.

Living with his family necessitated eating most meals with company; however, having the private sala meant there was a certain measure of independence within the confines of the household.

Tess needed that. Although she loved both Elena and Amy, she had spent too much of her life alone to easily adjust to the continuous company of others.

“Tess …”

The magazine slid from her fingers and she barely caught it before it fell to the floor. So much for a cool reception at his arrival. Picking the periodical up, she laid it neatly on the small table in front her. She fiddled with it, attempting to get it perfectly perpendicular to the edge. She didn’t want to look at her gorgeous husband. It would hurt.

To see him and experience the deepest sort of love imaginable and know it was not returned was beyond her emotional capabilities at the moment.

One brown hand covered hers where it fiddled with the corner of the magazine.

“Honey.”

He was on his knees beside her, the warmth of his hand a seductive lure when she felt chilled to her soul. Having no choice if she did not want to come off the coward, she lifted her head and took in the superficial details of his appearance. He had removed his suit jacket and tie and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. His hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it…several times. And there was an intensity in the brown depths of his eyes she dared not trust.

“Your mother and Elena have gone shopping. They invited me to go along, but I told you I would wait here.” It was inane chatter, but safer than the questions screaming through her mind.

His jaw tightened. “I’m glad you stayed,” he said.

She nodded. “You said we needed to talk.”

“Yes.” He stood up and swung away from her. “I want our marriage to last.”

“Why?” she asked. After all this, she needed concrete answers.

“I… I just… I believe it’s the right thing to do.” He still hadn’t turned around and she was glad.

His words were a death knell to the hopes she had tried so hard not to nurse.

“Why did you marry me if you don’t love me?” She just could not believe he was so determined not to have an affair with a virgin that he had chosen to marry a woman he had so little feeling for.

He spun back to face her, his expression almost scary. “You know why. I have been unkind, I admit this, but you must also admit that you carry some of the blame for that.”

“Because I was a virgin?” she asked.

“Do not play games.” His hands clenched at his sides. “I heard you tell your father thank-you for his manipulations on your behalf.”

She stared at him, as at sea about this whole thing as she had been when he’d gone off the rails the first time. “I just don’t understand why you’re so upset about a little matchmaking. You didn’t have to succumb.” She said,

“Is that what you call it, matchmaking? How innocent that sounds, but I call it blackmail.”

There are things you don’t know. Her father’s words echoed in her mind. “Are you saying my father blackmailed you into marrying me?” she asked.

Impossible. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in the twenty-first century. It was positively Machiavellian and that kind of business had gone out with the Middle Ages, at least when it came to marriage bargains and the like.

But Dash’s expression denied her naive certainty. “Are you attempting to convince me you did not know?” he asked.