"What if the moon sails right through the window and lands in your bath?" he asked mildly. He knew her well enough to realize that he could not feed her paranoia. They had been down this road several times before and he knew exactly what to say to her.
"You're being ridiculous," she muttered.
"And you're not?" Picking up a heated towel, he wiped his hands before picking up his wine. "You're the most caring person I know. It still pisses me off that you cannot drive past a homeless person without stopping and offering them some cash or a meal. No one walks around with cash, except you. I live in constant terror that someone is going to simply grab you and shove you into some nondescript vehicle and demand a ransom."
"I'm not helpless," she muttered. "And besides, you started hiring some beefy guy to tail me whenever I'm on the road."
"Someone had to look out for you," he reminded her. "You're nothing like the woman who gave you birth, nor are you like your grandparents." He recalled vividly how excited she had been when she discovered that she had grandparents living only a few miles away. By the time he had searched for her birth mother, she had already overdosed on heroin, but discovering that she had relatives had softened the devastating blow.
Until she had visited them. They had politely ushered them into their very neat and scrupulously tidy home and offered them refreshments.
They had also recognized her because her face was all over the screen. She was also married to him, and they were always in the papers.
His wife had been painfully eager to be reunited with the people she thought would welcome her with open arms.
It could still anger him the way they had crushed her spirit. They had proceeded to tell her that they wanted nothing to do with her. In their polite and colorless voices, they had told her that they had severed ties with their only child and that they were Christian people who wanted nothing to do with her world.
They had not expressed pride or sorrow for what she had endured as a child. They had simply told her that it wouldn'tbe prudent for her to come around again. They had their lives to live, and that life did not include the sinful lifestyle she had embraced.
Samuel remembered that it had taken a supreme effort on his part not to knock them on their asses. He had taken his wife's hand and led her out to the car and drove off. He also recalled that for the entire journey, she had cried bitterly. His first thought was to buy their scrupulously neat house out from under them and level it to the ground. They had hurt her, and he wanted to hurt them back for the pain they had caused her.
"You're still angry."
Her voice had him resurfacing from the emotions gripping him.
"A little," he concurred with a grim smile. "Ready to come out?"
"It's getting cold." She rose with his help and waited while he wrapped a towel around her.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
He bundled her up and lifted her into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom and placing her on the bed.
"I think you deserve a little TLC. Any objections?"
"None whatsoever." She was propped up on the mound of pillows, her chest heaving slightly as he proceeded to wipe her down. "It's just that…"
He looked up from his task of toweling her feet. "We've not been in this place in a long time."
She nodded. "And now?" She held her breath as he moved up to her thighs. She was completely naked. Yes, the towel was between them, but she could see the banked fires darkening his eyes, indicating that he was getting aroused.
"And now, I think we should try." His voice had thickened. Tossing the towel aside, he used his hands to gently massage the supple skin of her thighs, edging dangerously closer and closer to that area that was already throbbing in alarming reaction to his touch. "You asked me if I wanted a divorce."
"You said no." There was a breathy sound to her voice that threw him back to the past, a past where she would cry out his name as she peaked. It was making him as hard as steel.
"And I meant it." He pressed his thumbs into her inner thighs and caused her to jolt. "There's still something between us. Italways frustrated me to realize that you have such power over me. No one ever made me react the way you do."
He met her gaze, eyes wandering over her exquisite face. It was not just her physical beauty, even though Christ knew she had that in spades. It was her glowing caramel complexion, the shape of her lips, the light that seemed to shine from her. She was vivacious and full of life, and in spite of her upbringing, there wasn't an ounce of bitterness inside her.
She could still care about people. In his lengthy career as producer, he had seen people rise to the pinnacle and end up treating others like scum. His wife never did. She fascinated him. She intrigued him in ways he had never been intrigued before. And even after five years of marriage, he still wanted her with a fierceness that was astonishing.
Rising, he continued to stare at her as he toed off his shoes and then unhooked his belt.
"We-"
"Yes?" He drew the zipper down, the noise sounding very loud in the room.
"I thought you were through with me," she whispered, her eyes drawn to the wide expanse of his chest with its dusting of dark hairs.
