Zack Baker
Why Do I Scare You?
“Do you have a guest list?” Zack asked.
Tegan looked up from the magazine she was absently flipping through. She’d tried to read her new book about Antony and Cleopatra, but it hadn’t held her interest. In desperation, she’d turned to a magazine, but hadn’t had much better luck with it.
Surely there couldn’t really be a hundred and fifty ways to improve her love life…and even if there were, she wasn’t interested.
Being imaginative in bed had caused this problem, and there were no columns that dealt with what to do after you’d had a fabulous night of passion. “A guest list?”
“For the wedding?”
“Surely we won’t be inviting that many people.”
His shoulders filled the room’s entryway. He blocked the early afternoon light, and she wished he’d stay there, but knew he wouldn’t.
“I’d just like to invite my family,” she said. “Maybe a few of your close friends.”
“You don’t want a big wedding?”
“No, I already had one. It wasn’t what I’d hoped.”
“Then a small wedding’s fine.”
“You’re scaring me, Zack. It’s not like you to be so agreeable.”
“Just want you to set the date.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Nah.”
He grinned, and her heart forgot what it was supposed to do next.
“Next week?” he said.
“Two,” she countered.
“Done.”
She’d been had. The moment the word left her mouth, she’d know it.
“I’ll call the courthouse to set it up. Morning or afternoon?”
In the morning, so that she had all day and night to get through with him? Or afternoon, where night nipped at it’s heels? He’d already promised there’d be no closed doors between them… “You decide.”
“Any place in particular for a honeymoon?”
“We’ve already had it.”
He moved then. In three strides, the sound of his shoes muffled by the carpeting, he approached near her, until she had to tip back her head in order to look at him.
He filled her vision, made her stomach warm and tight.
“We’ll have out honeymoon, make no mistake about it.”
She couldn’t swallow.
“I expect my wife to sleep with me, and I mean that in all senses of the word. I’m just offering you the chance to get away for a few days, if you want.”
The fire in the grate snapped and crackled.
“I…”
“I can make love to you as easily here as at a fancy hotel. It’s up to you.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he said, his voice husky, like it was before he kissed her, made love to her.
Zack knelt on one knee before her.
This close, he was even more overpowering.
“Give me your hand, Tegan. I want to put my ring there. I want the world to know your mine.”
Her heart thundered.
Zack reached for her hand and held her wrist steady when it shook.
His head was bent. She closed her eyes, then wished she hadn’t when she saw images of herself desperately yanking at Aaron’s ring, trying to rid herself of his hold.
This wouldn’t be the same, not at all. The world didn’t have enough places for her to hide from Zack’s determination.
The past and present merged, suffocating her. Tegan pulled her hand back, sending the ring bouncing to the carpet.
“Tegan?”
“I can’t do this, Zack. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, his voice low and soothing, a contradiction to anything she’d ever heard from him, except during lovemaking.
He gathered her against him.
He was the one man she shouldn’t seek comfort from, and he was the only one she wanted.
As he stroked her, muttering meaningless words, her emotion slowly subsided.
When she hiccupped, he moved away, not stopping till he stood halfway across the room, near the fireplace.
She dragged in a few breaths, steadying her nerves.
He drummed a finger on top of a poker. Even from here, she saw the tension bunched in his shoulders.
“Help me out, Tegan,” he said, stilling his hand. “I want to understand what’s happening here.” He dragged spread fingers through his hair.
It took a great deal of courage to look at him. He was more masculine than anyone Tegan had ever met. Bold. Daring. Compassionate. And darn it—her future husband.
“Why do I scare you?”
“You don’t.”
“But you don’t want to make love.”
“No,” she admitted, facing him.
“You don’t like it?”
She had no choice but to confess the truth to him, as well as herself. Finally looking at him, she said, “That’s not it.”
“I could have sworn I satisfied you. That little gasp, the way you dug your heels into the mattress, then the way you collapsed beneath me…”
Something was happening inside her, an awareness… A cord of recognition made her realize she was woman to this man, that they were meant for each other, no matter how she fought it. “I…you…yes, you did.”
Never, in all her years of marriage, had Aaron asked these kind of questions. He’d never cared enough. “But it was the first time ever—“ she broke off, knowing she’d said too much.
“You mean to tell me you were married and you’d never had an orgasm until we’d made love?”
When she didn’t answer, he swore softly.
“What the hell kind of marriage did you have?”
“Not a good one,” she admitted, trying to regain her emotional distance from him.
“I want to hear about it, Tegan. Every single detail.”
Where he’d been understanding earlier, he was not radiating raw male determination.
“Neither one of us leaves this room until I know why the idea of being intimate with me again frightens the life out of you.”
Tegan looked up from the magazine she was absently flipping through. She’d tried to read her new book about Antony and Cleopatra, but it hadn’t held her interest. In desperation, she’d turned to a magazine, but hadn’t had much better luck with it.
Surely there couldn’t really be a hundred and fifty ways to improve her love life…and even if there were, she wasn’t interested.
Being imaginative in bed had caused this problem, and there were no columns that dealt with what to do after you’d had a fabulous night of passion. “A guest list?”
“For the wedding?”
“Surely we won’t be inviting that many people.”
His shoulders filled the room’s entryway. He blocked the early afternoon light, and she wished he’d stay there, but knew he wouldn’t.
“I’d just like to invite my family,” she said. “Maybe a few of your close friends.”
“You don’t want a big wedding?”
“No, I already had one. It wasn’t what I’d hoped.”
“Then a small wedding’s fine.”
“You’re scaring me, Zack. It’s not like you to be so agreeable.”
“Just want you to set the date.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Nah.”
He grinned, and her heart forgot what it was supposed to do next.
“Next week?” he said.
“Two,” she countered.
“Done.”
She’d been had. The moment the word left her mouth, she’d know it.
“I’ll call the courthouse to set it up. Morning or afternoon?”
In the morning, so that she had all day and night to get through with him? Or afternoon, where night nipped at it’s heels? He’d already promised there’d be no closed doors between them… “You decide.”
“Any place in particular for a honeymoon?”
“We’ve already had it.”
He moved then. In three strides, the sound of his shoes muffled by the carpeting, he approached near her, until she had to tip back her head in order to look at him.
He filled her vision, made her stomach warm and tight.
“We’ll have out honeymoon, make no mistake about it.”
She couldn’t swallow.
“I expect my wife to sleep with me, and I mean that in all senses of the word. I’m just offering you the chance to get away for a few days, if you want.”
The fire in the grate snapped and crackled.
“I…”
“I can make love to you as easily here as at a fancy hotel. It’s up to you.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he said, his voice husky, like it was before he kissed her, made love to her.
Zack knelt on one knee before her.
This close, he was even more overpowering.
“Give me your hand, Tegan. I want to put my ring there. I want the world to know your mine.”
Her heart thundered.
Zack reached for her hand and held her wrist steady when it shook.
His head was bent. She closed her eyes, then wished she hadn’t when she saw images of herself desperately yanking at Aaron’s ring, trying to rid herself of his hold.
This wouldn’t be the same, not at all. The world didn’t have enough places for her to hide from Zack’s determination.
The past and present merged, suffocating her. Tegan pulled her hand back, sending the ring bouncing to the carpet.
“Tegan?”
“I can’t do this, Zack. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, his voice low and soothing, a contradiction to anything she’d ever heard from him, except during lovemaking.
He gathered her against him.
He was the one man she shouldn’t seek comfort from, and he was the only one she wanted.
As he stroked her, muttering meaningless words, her emotion slowly subsided.
When she hiccupped, he moved away, not stopping till he stood halfway across the room, near the fireplace.
She dragged in a few breaths, steadying her nerves.
He drummed a finger on top of a poker. Even from here, she saw the tension bunched in his shoulders.
“Help me out, Tegan,” he said, stilling his hand. “I want to understand what’s happening here.” He dragged spread fingers through his hair.
It took a great deal of courage to look at him. He was more masculine than anyone Tegan had ever met. Bold. Daring. Compassionate. And darn it—her future husband.
“Why do I scare you?”
“You don’t.”
“But you don’t want to make love.”
“No,” she admitted, facing him.
“You don’t like it?”
She had no choice but to confess the truth to him, as well as herself. Finally looking at him, she said, “That’s not it.”
“I could have sworn I satisfied you. That little gasp, the way you dug your heels into the mattress, then the way you collapsed beneath me…”
Something was happening inside her, an awareness… A cord of recognition made her realize she was woman to this man, that they were meant for each other, no matter how she fought it. “I…you…yes, you did.”
Never, in all her years of marriage, had Aaron asked these kind of questions. He’d never cared enough. “But it was the first time ever—“ she broke off, knowing she’d said too much.
“You mean to tell me you were married and you’d never had an orgasm until we’d made love?”
When she didn’t answer, he swore softly.
“What the hell kind of marriage did you have?”
“Not a good one,” she admitted, trying to regain her emotional distance from him.
“I want to hear about it, Tegan. Every single detail.”
Where he’d been understanding earlier, he was not radiating raw male determination.
“Neither one of us leaves this room until I know why the idea of being intimate with me again frightens the life out of you.”