Dean evened his breathing with an effort. It was not uncommon for his father to make fun of him. It didn't need to affect him more today than on any other occasion. "I'm afraid you've made a long trip for nothing." Dean spoke very, very softly. "You see, I have absolutely no need of your help."
Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Don't you, though?"
"No."
The two men looked at each other. Dean waited for Kirk to back down, for his cowardly, ineffective father to break. Instead, one side of Kirk's mouth quirked. "Coulda fooled me."
Dean said nothing. He knew what Kirk was doing. His father often wanted to get his goat. He couldn't stand the fact Dean had grown out of him — despite Dean having grown out of him thirty-odd years before. Dean knew he shouldn't feel angry, and he wouldn't have felt angry if the little worm of panic, the one he'd been fighting off for weeks now, hadn't used this opportunity to crawl its way to the surface.
Kirk scratched the side of his mouth. "She's...quite an eyeful."
Dean forced his voice to calm. "And why shouldn't she be?"
Kirk shrugged. "No reason. Just, uh, something that might have hurried you down the aisle."
Dean clenched his jaw. "I was in no more of a hurry than you have been in, on occasion."
Kirk flashed a grin. "See, that's what I'm talking about. Like father, like son."
Dean had to make himself breathe. No, I wouldn't say that. I wouldn't say that at all. He wanted to declare it. But his mouth wouldn't open to say the words.
Kirk laughed. "Who'da guessed?"
Dean glared at him, but his heart was pounding madly. Indeed, who would have guessed? Dean hadn't — until that moment. No wonder he'd been so unreasonably disturbed that his father had come home. The man was like a — a symbol. A living announcement of Dean's folly. Oh, how very like his father he had acted — and was still acting!
Kirk clasped his hands over one knee. "Can't say I blame you. The girl's something else. Hard to think straight around a female like that."
Dean was starting to feel sick. "I can think clearly enough." But it wasn't true. He hadn't been thinking clearly at all.
Kirk seemed to know it, too. He laughed. "Who'd have thought you could be impulsive?"
He hadn't been impulsive. Dean wanted to say that. But impulsive precisely described his marriage to Kelly. Hell, he'd been hypnotized. How much more impulsive could a man get? And since then...well, since then there'd been the fantasy.
Kirk gave him a patronizing look. Meanwhile Dean tried to remain logical. So, he'd acted impulsive. It had worked out. Kelly had even said she was staying.
But the panic was rising, climbing up his gorge. So what if Kelly said she was staying. What did that signify?
Kirk hooked his elbows over the back of his chair. "I tell you it was worth the trip to see this: you actually acting human."
Dean glared at him. "I have always been human. I've just never wanted to — "
Kirk raised his eyebrows when Dean stopped. "You've just never wanted to...what? Make a mistake? Admit you had needs?"
Dean stood up from his chair. The fear was like an animal inside him, clawing through his gut, fighting up his throat. He hadn't made a mistake. Nor did he have needs. He wanted Kelly, that was all. He was independent. He was in control. He didn't count on fantasies.
I'm not like you. Dean wanted to say that. He wanted to shout it at Kirk. But he didn't.
Kirk stood up, too. He'd stopped smiling. "All right, fine. You don't need me. You never have. But I'm here, all the same. And I've already told Robby about the trip and he's thrilled, so I'm taking him."
No you're not. Dean wanted to say that. He wanted to keep Robby with him, keep him on track toward a stable routine come fall. He wanted to claim that his life was stable, that it was all settled and not like Kirk's life at all.
Dean wanted to say that, but he didn't.
Scowling now, Kirk threw up his hands. "I'm taking Robby. So you've got your wife to yourself, whether you wanted her that way or not."
Dean was still standing behind his desk when Kirk left the room. The fear was like a chain of mail, wrapped around him. He didn't need his wife to himself. Their relationship wasn't that temporary. He'd wanted to say that.
But he hadn't.
He couldn't.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dean took so long with his father that Kelly fell asleep. Propped on a half-dozen pillows and clutching a paperback, she slept until the switching off of the lamp on her night table woke her.
"Mpf." She struggled upright, disoriented. Where was her pink lampshade nightlight? Where was the smell of cabbage that always seemed to come from Mrs. Rosen's place downstairs?
"Kelly," a deep voice said, and she remembered she wasn't in her apartment in Las Vegas. She was in Dean's luxurious, ugly house. His hand landed on her hip.
"Dean." Kelly tried to remember why he was coming in late, why he hadn't fallen asleep by her side. Oh, that was right. His father — She tried to wake more fully. They had to talk.
But then Dean's tongue licked the rim of her ear. It was a familiar gesture, a prelude. Muzzy as Kelly's brain was, her body got the message immediately. She plunged into a state of need. "Dean..."
He understood her unspoken desire. He pulled her close. She could feel the rough hair of his chest through the thin material of her negligee. She could smell his own special scent. Sparkles of sensation quivered over her skin.
"Never mind," Kelly gasped. Whatever they were supposed to talk about, it could wait. She wiggled against him.
Dean growled. In a sudden, almost violent burst of motion, he lowered Kelly to her back.
In the dark, their eyes met. Kelly could see in Dean's a strange and heavy need. She almost stopped everything. He looked to be in pain. Then Dean nudged her thighs apart. The expression on his face turned intent, determined, utterly masculine. Kelly felt her own need rise, stopping her questions. She helped him find his place. In one smooth motion, he plunged in.
"Oh, Dean," Kelly sobbed.
"Very — Yes."
It had become familiar, this ecstasy at the joining of their bodies, but it was still a spinning that went up to her head. Dean grunted and began to pump. Kelly's eyes widened. "That's so...good," she rasped out.
"Yes," Dean agreed on a hiss. He grabbed Kelly's hips and continued the mating rhythm; hot, heavy, desperate.
Indeed, it was rough and hard, not the way they'd been these past few weeks. It was...raw emotion. "Keep...going," Kelly begged. She curled her fingers over his shoulders and squeezed. Above her she felt the movement of his muscles, the damp of his exertion. Her nerves began to tighten, every fiber reaching. She began to gasp. This was going to be amazing.
And it was. Her whole body went off like a firecracker. At the same moment Dean arched and went taut against her.
"Kelly," he groaned.
She felt her eyes begin to tear. She wasn't even sure why. Their coupling had been amazing, fantastic. Still, it made her weepy. Something wasn't right. "Dean," she murmured, and relaxed her fingers to stroke her hands down his chest.
"Shh," he said, and pulled her against his body.
"But I don't — "
"Shh," he said again, low. "Just... Let's be quiet."
Let's be quiet? She wanted to know what was wrong. But Dean clearly didn't want to tell her. He only held her close, and at length the warmth of his body and the exhaustion of her own got the better of her. She fell fast asleep.
###
The next morning Kelly woke up alone in her big bed. She squinted at the empty place beside her, then looked around the room. No sound came from the bathroom. Dean wasn't even in her suite.
With a groan she sat up. She couldn't believe it. She'd wanted to talk to Dean last night. She'd been determined to make him open up. He needed to talk about his father and whatever was bothering him.
Instead she'd let the man have his fine way with her and now he was gone.
&
nbsp; Kelly rubbed her forehead and wondered if Dean had planned it that way. Had he wanted to avoid the issue?
She got dressed and went downstairs, upset she even had to consider Dean might be back to using sex in order to avoid a meaningful conversation.
At the bottom of the stairs, she saw a bunch of suitcases. Kirk was standing next to them in the front entry, talking to Jackson.
Kelly bit the inside of her cheek. It seemed Dean was following through on at least one determined course. He was getting rid of Kirk.
Warily, she approached the pair talking in the entry. Would Kirk blame her for getting the boot? And if so, would he be justified? She really should have gotten Dean to talk last night. If she had, he might have tried dealing with his father, instead of getting rid of him. That would have been healthier.
Kelly was wondering what she could say to Dean's father when there was something in the nature of a small explosion behind her.
"Kelly! Kelly!"
She turned to find Robby bounding down the stairs.
"Didja hear? Didja hear?" he shouted.
Kelly couldn't help smiling as Robby ran up to her, grinning from ear to ear. He grabbed hold of her hands. "Didja hear the news?" he asked, and squeezed. "I'm going to Greece!"
"G-Greece?" Kelly's smile dropped and she blinked several times rapidly.
"Yup, Greece," Robby repeated. "My Dad is taking me, on his yacht."
"Oh. I — " Kelly was dumbfounded. Kirk was taking Robby? "I — What? How?" she asked.
"On a plane." Robby took her question literally. "It's going to take all day, and part of tonight. Then we have to take a bus and then a boat."
"Ah." This was all moving too fast for Kelly. Kirk was taking Robby to Greece? No. Robby was supposed to be getting a dose of much-needed stability. Dean had agreed.
Or had he?
Kelly frowned. "Uh... Does Dean know about this trip of yours?"
"Dean knows." It was Kirk's voice. He came up to throw an arm around the still-glowing Robby. "Not to worry, he's given his hearty approval."
"He has?" Kelly couldn't believe it. At the same time she felt a blow to her mid-section. At least a part of her could believe it.
Kirk smiled his charming smile. "Dean knows what's good for him. And Robby, as you can see, is delighted."
Yes, Kelly could see that. Robby was practically walking on air. But she wouldn't accept Dean had willingly agreed to this. He'd committed himself to Robby.
Hadn't he?
"Wait here," she told Kirk.
He raised his brows. "Jackson's got to leave with us in fifteen minutes."
"This won't take long." Kelly gave him a sickly little smile and backed away. No, it shouldn't take long because the whole thing was impossible. Dean wouldn't give up his responsibilities. Besides, he'd come to admit he loved Robby.
Hadn't he?
Kelly was panting by the time she got to the morning room. Dean was there, leaning against a windowsill. His expression as he looked out at the view was as cold and remote as Alaska.
Kelly's heart sank. She tried valiantly not to believe any of what Kirk had told her — but Dean looked just like the person he'd been when she'd first come to the house; a castle unto himself.
"I — What's going on?" she asked, still panting.
Dean turned his head. "Excuse me?"
Kelly gestured in the direction of the front door. "You're letting him take Robby?"
Dean shrugged. "Kirk is Robby's father."
"Huh! Technically."
Dean raised his brows. "Technically is enough."
Kelly crossed her arms over her chest. She evened her breathing. "Is this what's bothering you? Kirk demanding Robby? 'Cause you don't have to put up with it if you don't want to."
Dean gave her a strange look. "You think Kirk taking Robby to Greece bothers me?"
"Well, yeah." Kelly swallowed. How could he act so cool? "I think it bothers you, because in every real sense of the word, Robby is your son."
Dean hesitated. Then he laughed.
Kelly felt her face heat. He was being difficult, and they didn't have a lot of time. "You don't have to put up with this. If you set your foot down, Kirk will leave him here."
Dean pushed off the window frame. "Kirk isn't doing this to piss me off."
"Oh, come on."
"No, really. He's trying to help."
"To help?"
Dean stepped toward the table. "He wants to give us some time alone, to enjoy our marriage..."
Dean's voice trailed off and Kelly's brows knit as she tried to follow this. To enjoy their marriage?
Dean smiled. "While it lasts."
Kelly's lower jaw dropped. It took her a while to raise it up again. When she did, she had plenty to say. "Why, of all the arrogant, interfering, cynical — "
Dean leaned his palms on the tabletop. "Is he?"
Kelly's jaw dropped again. She blinked. "What?"
Dean straightened. "Is Kirk being cynical? Or is he being...realistic?"
"What?"
"Come on." Dean made a wiping motion in the air. "How long can our marriage really last?"
For a long moment Kelly could only stare at him. He couldn't be saying this, he couldn't be thinking it. Like he didn't believe in them. Hadn't he asked her two nights ago to stay and make the marriage real?
Or had he asked something a little bit different?
Kelly felt a scared sinking in her stomach. Dean was gazing at her in his old, sardonic way. She remembered: he hadn't asked her to stay. He'd said he wanted to keep things going. Open-ended, uncommitted.
Fool, a voice inside her shrieked. You did it again, big-time, let a man use you.
Kelly shook the voice aside. She knew Dean loved her. Despite the fact he'd never said the words aloud, she knew it from every gesture and deed. What was happening here was an outbreak of insecurity. It had started with the marriage proposal, or lack thereof, and gotten worse with the arrival of his father. Dean was afraid of being vulnerable to her. That's why he hadn't asked her to stay married. It was why he was standing here, brows raised, as if he really expected an answer to his question: how long will it last?
Kelly drew in a deep breath. She should have realized. Dean wasn't as confident as he sometimes appeared. He was still very insecure in matters of emotion. His father, with his insinuations and mockery, had only made things worse. "I think," she said slowly, "I haven't been exactly fair to you."
Dean went absolutely still.
Kelly took another deep breath. She could see now that she was going to have to be the adult here. Because, well, she was the adult here, the emotional adult. Dean would have been one if he could have. He loved responsibility and taking care of things, but he'd never been given the tools to figure out how to take responsibility for this.
So it was up to her. She gazed at his cold, forbidding — and no doubt terrified — features, and felt her love for him swell.
"I should have told you before," she said. "It's just that I was waiting — " She shook her head. No use telling him what she'd been waiting for. She raised her chin and looked Dean straight in the eye. "I love you, Dean. I want to stay in the marriage. I want it to be a real marriage, for good."
He just stared at her. Kelly saw something move, behind his attempt at impassivity. He wasn't as unaffected as he wanted to appear. She waited, sure then that he was going to soften. He was going to say how glad he was, maybe even say that he loved her, too.
Instead he seemed to pull into himself. She could practically see the walls going up. "I see," he said. "Yes. But that doesn't answer my question."
"What?"
"How long?" Dean repeated. "I understand it would be difficult to name a specific date, but I'm sure you could give me a general time frame."
"What? "
He pushed back from the table. "Yes, I know we've been...close these past few weeks. But that was only because — Never mind. The important thing is that I'm over it now
. I'm back to reality again."
"Reality?" Kelly couldn't believe this was happening, that he was saying this sort of thing — now.
Dean drew himself up. "It's not that I'm implying you're lying. I think you do believe you love me, whatever that means. But this isn't going to last. It couldn't." He gave a strange, dry laugh. "Especially not considering the way it started."
Kelly felt light-headed. They shouldn't be arguing. She'd just given her all, surrendered. Hadn't that meant anything? "You don't even know how it started," she had enough presence of mind to point out.
"No." Dean smiled. "You don't know how it started."
Kelly's brows drew down.
Dean tapped his index finger on the table top. "It started," he said, "with Troy's hypnotic suggestion."
The hairs rose on the back of Kelly's neck. "You never told me what was Troy's suggestion."
"True." Dean looked to the side. "And he warned me, told me you needed to know."
Despite herself, Kelly felt chill. "So, what was it?"
"Troy told me to do what I wanted for forty-eight hours. To do what I wanted, instead of what I should."
Kelly felt ice all the way through. She wasn't even sure why. So, Dean coming on to her, courting and marrying her, had been something he wanted to do. What was bad about that? That was...good, and certainly better than having been compelled to do something against his will.
But Dean laughed harshly. "I did what I wanted, without considering the consequences, without thinking about the future. Acted unlike myself." He paused. "I acted, in fact, just like my father."
Kelly felt herself trembling. She stared at his hard, inaccessible features. "No," she said. "You can't believe that. It wasn't that way."
Dean's fingertips rested on the tabletop. "No? I think it was. I know it was. Because I've been acting exactly the same these past few weeks. I've been doing what I wanted, and not bothering with the consequences."
"But — "
Dean laughed again. "Come on, Kelly. How long could a marriage between us last? Eventually you'll have to meet my peers, the social throng. Nor would I pass muster, I suspect, with your crowd, all of whom, by the way, you've left behind. Where will you find new friends?" His head cocked. "Among the wives of my executives? Or maybe you think Robby and Troy and I are enough for you?"