Wronged (Book 1) Read online

  Chapter Twelve

  Louis held Marian, stroking her soft back gently. “What are you talking about, healing? What do you mean?”

  She sniffed. “We promised not to mention his name. I don’t want to spoil this night.”

  “I don’t care, Marian. Just tell me. Why are you crying?”

  “Nothing.” She reached up and caressed his face. “You are wonderful. I’ve never experienced anything like what we just shared.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and entwined her limbs with his. The feel of her soft flesh against his aroused and confused him all at once. He felt protective of her and only knew he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “Then why are you crying?” he asked again.

  “Jean and I, we didn’t share a bed for months, sometimes even years.”

  Stunned at her confession, Louis swore. No wonder she hated Jean.

  “After the birth of Renee, Jean seldom came to my bed, even after being away for months at a time. I tried to talk with him on several occasions about why he avoided me, but he never gave me the same reason. I guess I took his rejection personally. I begin to believe he no longer found me attractive.”

  “Oh, Marian,” Louis said holding her tightly in his arms. “You are an attractive, you’re an intelligent beautiful woman.”

  She started to cry again and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, I never meant to tell you all this and I certainly never thought I would become upset talking about our lovemaking problems. It’s just that since Jean’s death I’ve wondered if my lack of attractiveness is the reason that he searched out other women.”

  Louis shook his head. “You’re not thinking like a man.”

  She leaned back and he could feel her gaze upon him in the dark. “What do you mean?”

  “Men who cheat on their wives don’t need a reason. They cheat because they want to.” He paused, his hand stroking her hair, the sweet perfume of magnolias rising from it.

  “Is this the reason you wanted to seduce me tonight?” he asked, suddenly realizing it wasn’t loneliness that drove her into his arms, but something else that he feared to hear.

  In the darkness her voice trembled. “Jean’s deception has been eating at me for months, probably even years. I decided to find an answer to the question that nagged at me.”

  Louis kissed the top of her head. “You still haven’t told me why.”

  “I... I wanted to see what part I played in the breakup of my marriage. I needed to know if I was normal.”

  “What do you mean, normal?” he asked.

  “I needed to see if I was attractive enough to seduce a man. I needed to see if I’m a normal woman,” she said.

  Louis froze for a moment, his mind reeling from her confession, feeling stunned. What they just experienced, she had initiated this to reassure herself that nothing was wrong with her? She wanted to test her abilities as a woman in bed with a man she’d never been with before? And she’d chosen him?

  “Why me?” he asked, suddenly curious, not at all expecting her to respond.

  “Because ... because you’re so good with women and because I needed someone that I knew.”

  He lay with her in his arms, silent. This had never happened to him before and he didn’t know whether to feel angry, sad, or pleased as hell that she’d chosen him. All because she needed reassurance of being a desirable woman!

  Saddened, he realized the pain of Jean’s deception went deeper for Marian than he’d realized.

  “I don’t know why Jean didn’t make love to you. Mad is the only word to describe him, if he didn’t find you attractive.” Louis kissed the top of her head, holding her tight. “God, Marian. He’s dead. He doesn’t matter anymore. You’re alive, you’re beautiful, and you just about drove me crazy tonight. Bury Jean and leave him behind.”

  She reached up and kissed his mouth hard and Louis felt himself responding once again to her body. Her lips released his and she gazed deeply into his eyes.

  “Thank you, Louis, but you don’t have to be kind. I understand that you’re used to women more sophisticated in these matters and ...”

  “Marian, I’m not being kind. You were everything a man could want. You are everything I want.”

  His lips plundered hers making her his, not Jean’s. Louis lost himself as he felt her naked and wanting against him. It was true that he couldn’t remember enjoying a woman more. No one since his late wife had aroused his passion to such heights and even Anne had never made him feel so much.

  So what would he do now?

  Come Monday, could they return to the office and look at each other in the same way again? Could he sit across from her without remembering her soft whimpers and the way she melted in his arms? But did he really want to?