The Senator's Hispanic Bride (5 page)

Michael was quiet a moment and then looked out of the car window. “She is.”

“What did you invite her for?” Isabella asked, anger growing in little bubbles inside her.

He turned and frowned at her. “I didn’t invite her. She gate-crashed. I wouldn’t have invited her there. I didn’t want her there.”

She couldn’t believe he had said that to her. “You didn’t want her there? You sure looked pretty cozy with her on the dance floor, holding her and kissing her. If you didn’t want her there, you should have kicked her out instead of lip locking with her in front of all of our guests!”

Michael covered his eyes with his hands and took a deep breath to calm the irritation in him. “It really wasn’t like that. Actually, we were arguing and I told her to leave. I didn’t know she was going to kiss me.”

“It looked like it to me and everyone else.” Isabella clamped her mouth shut angrily.

Michael sighed and moved closer to her, taking her hands in his and looking at her, even though she was staring out of the window ignoring him.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to be there. I didn’t know she was going to kiss me. I was standing there talking with some business partners and she just sort of appeared and dragged me on to the dance floor. We got into the argument and I told her to leave and she kissed me and then left. I’m sorry, Isabella, I really am. Please don’t stay mad at me.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. She turned her head and looked at him and his pleading eyes melted her on the spot. “You better make it up to me.” She pouted with a small smile. He grinned at her and pulled her into his arms, lowering his mouth onto hers and kissing her sensuously.

“How about this?” he whispered against her lips.

She grinned and closed her eyes. “That’s a start,” she whispered back, and let him kiss her until she forgot what they were talking about.

They pulled up to her brownstone and it was a full twenty minutes before they emerged from the car, so wrapped up were they in kissing each other. She pouted a little and tugged on his hand. “Can’t you come stay the night with me?”

Michael shook his head. “Not tonight, I’m sorry love, I have to finish up some work and I have an early meeting. We’ll spend the night together soon.” He kissed her again and saw her safely inside, and then the car took him back to his house. It was funny, he thought, that they had only dated three months and went straight into an engagement without having lived together, but that is just how it had worked out.

He climbed out of the car at his own house and walked inside, poured himself a drink, pulled off his tuxedo jacket, unbuttoned his shirt and sank back into the leather couch in his den. It had been a long day and he was not finished with it yet. He knew he’d have to face the work left undone in his office before he could go to bed. He took a drink and closed his eyes to rest for a moment.

“You look so relaxed,” came a velvety voice.

Michael opened his eyes, startled, and then he opened his jaw in surprise. Standing before him was Kelsey in nothing but a sheer black negligee robe that was open all the way down the front, her blonde hair was hanging in waves over her shoulder. She walked toward him, a smile playing on her red lips, and then she lowered herself onto his lap and leaned her chest toward him, her bared cleavage inches from his face.

He blinked at her in astonishment. “What in the world are you doing here? Why are you… naked?” He meant the words to come out more firmly, but they were more like a stunned whisper.

She shook her head at him. “Tsk, tsk, my dear, have you forgotten already? We used to have such good times. You must know what I want.” She reached her hand down between his legs and began to stroke his body firmly. He cursed the betrayal of his body as his erection grew thick and solid beneath his pants.

She gasped in subtle delight. “You do remember! I’ve missed this so much and it looks like you have, too.” She leaned forward, pressing her breasts to his chest, and took his face in her hands, covering his mouth with hers. She parted his lips and slid her tongue in between them, tracing the tip of it along his tongue and twisting hers around it, and as he opened his mouth a little more, she closed her lips around his tongue and sucked gently on it, while she moved her hips down directly above his groin and began to sway her body against his hardness.

Michael knew she shouldn’t be there. He knew she should not be where she was on his lap, grinding herself against him, and she should not be kissing him, but somehow the hot touch of her mouth had taken him back to the days when she was his, when they had made passionate love so many times and he had wanted to marry her and be with her for the rest of his life. He had loved her more than anyone, and she had left him for an old man with a lot of money. He had heard that they married and the old man died and left all of his money to her, but he hadn’t seen her in so long that he hadn’t known for certain what was truth and what was rumor.

His body ached with remembrance and need as she took over his mouth and slid her fingers deftly over the buttons on his shirt, pushing it aside and sliding her fingers over his bare skin. She clawed at his chest, raking her red nails over him and he groaned softly as she did. She opened her robe and thrust his face into her large breasts and he closed his mouth over one of her solid nipples, sucking on it hard and hungrily. His hands grasped at her waist and held her tightly and she clenched her fingers in his hair, holding him to her breasts. He lifted his face to her and shook his head, saying, “I can’t…” but she closed her mouth over his and pushed him down on the sofa, unfastening his pants and closing her hand around his erection.

“Yes, you can, baby. Come on… no one is going to know. Just you and me. We’ll have a little fun.” She hovered over him and rubbed her breasts on his chest, kissing him hard. “Nobody is ever going to know. I promise. Just for old times’ sake.”

She moved her body down to his groin and slid the length of him into her mouth, sucking on him deeply. He groaned loudly and tangled his fingers in her hair, twisting it as she drove him beyond need. As his pleasure mounted, all he could think of was Isabella. It cut at him that he was letting Kelsey get as far as she had, and he hated himself for it. She lifted her mouth from him and moved her body up over his, angling herself over his erection so she could slide it into her depths, but he stopped her, holding her away from him.

“We can’t do this. I can’t be the one that cheats on my partner, like you were. I can’t cause anyone else the pain you caused me. You have to leave. Get dressed, and leave, Kelsey. It’s not like this between us now, and I have another woman in my life. You have to go.”

“But you don’t love her! It won’t matter if we have a little fun!” she insisted, reaching for him to slide him into her.

Michael pushed her off of him and stood up, fastening his pants and turning to look at her with an intense gaze. “Get your things and get out of here. You had no business coming here tonight, and I had no business making out with you. I wish I hadn’t done it. You can leave.”  He turned and walked out of the room, heading for his bedroom where he locked the door and stepped into a cold shower.

When he emerged from his room an hour later, she was gone, and he poured himself another drink and buried his head in his hands. He had never done anything to hurt any woman he was with, and he had never cheated on any woman he was with, and he swore that he never would no matter what he felt or wanted. He let an old part of his past go that night when she left, the part that had always thought that if she ever wanted him again, he would take her back, the part that needed her and desired her, the part that had never really fallen out of love with her. That part of him vanished with her when she left and he knew it was gone for good.

Chapter Three

Though she hadn’t wanted it to happen so soon, Michael insisted that the wedding be held six weeks from their engagement party. It gave her almost no time to plan for it and get all of the things done that she needed to get done for their big day.

She went to the restaurant and sat with Marisol at a table, ready to show her all of the things she needed help with. Marisol kissed her and sat down and then looked at the thick file of things her sister slid toward her.

“How long do we have to plan this?” Marisol asked, flipping through the papers in the file.

“Six weeks,” Isabella answered. She hadn’t told her sister that part yet, because she didn’t know how to tell her. Marisol looked up from the papers in her fingers and stared at her sister.

“
What?
” she asked in amazement.

Isabella sighed. “I know… it’s not very long.”

“Six weeks? Are you serious? You can’t plan a wedding in six weeks. Not one of the magnitude that you are talking about having. You need to push the wedding back. Do it in six months,” Marisol said firmly.

“I can’t. We have to have it in six weeks.” Isabella sighed.

Marisol sat up straight and looked urgently at her sister. “Are you pregnant?”

Isabella laughed. “No! No, I’m not pregnant. It’s just what we need to do.”

“You mean what he needs to do! This is Michael’s decision isn’t it? I knew it!” She scowled and shut the file, folding her arms over her chest. “Well, you need to tell him he can’t have it in six weeks.”

“Mari, please! This is what we have to do! Okay? It’s happening in six weeks from now and I really need your help to get it going, okay? Please?” Isabella begged her sister.

“Why does it have to be in six weeks? What’s he up to that he needs you to be his wife in that time frame? You know what’s up? His election. This is not about you, it’s not about love, it’s not about any of that. This is about his election and that’s it. You ask him and see what he says about it. I’m not wrong about this.” Marisol grew irritated and fired up over her conspiracy theory.

Isabella shook her head. “No! He loves me. We’re doing this because we love each other. Part of it may have to do with the election, but it’s only because he is so busy with it and we want to have a beautiful wedding before things really get crazy with the election. Okay? Please?”

Marisol frowned and narrowed her eyes, but she opened the file back up and the two of them looked over the papers together. In no time, they were focused on the fun of it, rather than on the short time they had to do it in, and both of them were growing more and more excited about the possibilities and plans they were making.

Isabella saw Michael for dinner that night and showed him how far she and Marisol had gotten. He was duly impressed and congratulated her on it. He told her how far he had gotten as well and thanked her for doing what she could in such a short time frame.

“Isabella, I need to ask you for some help, please,” he said, holding her hand in his while they were eating dinner.

“What can I help you with?” she asked happily.

“I need you to come with me to a few functions this week. We want to show the public that we are together. I think your presence would be a big boost for me.” He smiled at her. “Would you be alright with that?”

She nodded at him and squeezed his hand. “Of course, I’m always glad to help you. I want to see you succeed.” She meant it when she said it, but as the days passed and she was taken with him to more and more functions, events, debates and speeches, she began to wonder if her sister wasn’t on to something.

The newspapers were touting her as the Puerto Rican fiancée of the candidate for senator, not just his fiancée. Her ethnicity was coming up regularly and at every turn she was asked questions about it. She began to feel like her ethnicity was much more of a factor in her relationship with Michael than she had originally thought it was.

She grew so concerned after a couple of weeks that she finally felt like she had to sit Michael down and talk with him. She wanted to wait until the time was right and she mentioned needing to talk with him when he had free time. She was relieved he agreed to discuss it with her. The time finally came one morning when she was sitting with him over breakfast after he had stayed the night with her.

“Michael, I have to ask you about something that’s really been bothering me lately.” She looked at him with trepidation.

“Is this what you want to talk with me about?” he asked, remembering what she had told him earlier.

She nodded and sipped her coffee nervously.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking at her intently.

“You have taken me to so many different events and functions over the last two weeks and something Marisol said has been nagging at me and I am worried that she might be right.” She took another drink of her coffee and set her cup down carefully, looking at him.

“What did she say?” He set his utensils down and listened.

“She said that she thinks you are marrying me because of my ethnicity and not because you love me. She thinks you are rushing the wedding because you want your voters to like you better. This wedding isn’t about your election, is it? Is this a publicity stunt for you? Is that why you are marrying me so quickly?” Her heart was in her throat and she waited anxiously for his answer.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, and then leaned back in his chair. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment and then he looked at her directly, sighed heavily and spoke.

“Isabella, first of all, I am marrying you because I love you. I wouldn’t marry anyone if I didn’t love them. Secondly, I realize that the newspapers and media are making a big thing of your ethnic heritage, so it makes sense you might feel like that is a factor in my marrying you. It isn’t. I will say that it is a small factor in the timing of our wedding. Having the wedding now would be a big help to the campaign and it would sway the Latin American voters towards me.” He looked at her trying to gauge her reaction, but he was not at all prepared for it.

Isabella felt a rage bubble up suddenly inside her and explode. She looked at him with such hurt and anger in her that he could only stare back in surprise.

“What the hell are you telling me? You’re marrying me so that all the brown skinned voters will vote for you? Is that it? You only want me because of my color? Because I’m the right heritage? Hurry up and marry you fast so that all of New York sees that you like the brown skinned girls enough to marry one of them so they should all support you?” She tossed her napkin down on the table and stood up, looking down at him. “You told me you loved me and now you are telling me this? Do you know what I have given up for you? Do you realize that I have declined several opportunities to work as a chef around the city for guest dinners because I was busy at some function with you, looking pretty on your arm and following you around as you romance all your voters? I have my own life that I have set up on a shelf for you so that you can put yours first! We never go see my family and you promised that we would! I’ve given up so much for you and now you are telling me that my sister is right and you are rushing our wedding and making me plan this whole damn thing in a hurry because it will help your campaign? That’s what this is about?” She was shouting at him by then, pacing around the kitchen and glaring at him angrily.

She continued, “I’m not about to be involved in some sham marriage, Michael! I am not going to marry someone who isn’t interested in having a partnership and making a real go of it! My life is too important to throw it away serving someone who only wants to serve himself and not give anything back to his wife! I am worth more than a damn publicity stunt, and I’m sick of everyone bringing up the fact that I’m Puerto Rican! Who cares! It shouldn’t matter what I am! I don’t see the papers going on and on about anyone else’s spouse or partner being anything other than a person! That’s all I am! A person! It does not matter what color my skin is. You should love me for who I am and want to marry me for that, not for my ethnic heritage!” She turned on her heel and started to walk out of the room, but he jumped up and ran after her, grabbing her arm to hold her back.

“Stop! Wait a minute!” he cried out.

She jerked her arm away from him. “Don’t you touch me! The wedding is off, and this engagement is off!” She ripped his ring from her finger and slammed it into his hand, then turned and marched up the stairs while he was in hot pursuit of her. She stomped into her bedroom and closed the door, trying to lock it before he got there, but he managed to reach it just in time and wrenched it open. He reached for her as she tried to back away and he pushed her down onto the bed and sat above her, holding her wrists firmly but not roughly with his hands.

“Get off of me and get out of my room! Get out of my house!” she yelled at him.

“I will!” he yelled back, “but first, you are going to listen to me and hear this whole thing, and then if you want me to go, I will go!” He looked at her intently and she growled in frustration and looked away from him. It was the only thing she could do as he had her pinned down.

“Look at me! Please!” he begged.

“No!” she shouted, staring at the wall beside her bed.

He sighed heavily and nodded. “Alright, fine. Don’t look at me. I’m still going to say what I have to say and then I’m going to leave, I guess.” He lowered his tone and she was silent. “Isabella, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s the truth. There are some other truths that happen to go along with that. Yes, you are Puerto Rican. Yes, that fact did not escape my attention, and no, that isn’t why I am with you, why I want you, or why I love you.”

He sighed. “Does it help my campaign that you are Puerto Rican? Yes. It helps a great deal. Am I taking advantage of that true fact? You better believe I am. I would be stupid not to. I’m running for senator to win, not just to see how it goes. The Latin American voters love you. You are beautiful, smart, you’re a beacon of success in this city and state, and you are an inspiration to them. You are an inspiration to me. We all want you. Of course I’m going to make the most of the fact that you are my fiancée. Yes, I am rushing the wedding so that we can have it done in time to sway as many voters as possible before the election, BUT!”

His voice became more stern, more insistent now. “But that does not change the fact that I love you, I want you to be my wife, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It just happens that it worked out this way right in the middle of my campaigning, and I need to use it to the fullest advantage if I’m going to win. I asked you if you would support me, and you said yes. I asked you if you would go with me to the functions and events and you said yes. You said you would do anything to help me, and you have! You have helped me so much, and I am so grateful for it, but you have to understand something.”

He paused and waited and she continued to look at the wall.

“Look at me! Please!” he insisted.

She turned her head to him and glared at him.

“I love you, Isabella, and I want you to be my wife, whether we get married now or ten years from now. The campaign might be running right now, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you, and it doesn’t change how I feel. I want you, always. I’m not trying to use you, and that’s not why I’m with you, but you are helping me a great deal anyway by being with me, and by marrying me in six weeks, whether you meant for it to help me or not.” He took a huge breath and sighed, and then released her hands and moved off of her, then sat on the edge of the bed.

She lay there a minute, feeling foolish and petulant, and then she sat up and moved over to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Michael,” she said quietly.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Me, too.”

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Could I please have my ring back?” She turned her head slowly and looked up at him, pleading with her warm dark brown eyes.

He sniffed. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it? You just declared your love for me!” she snapped at him with a small smile.

“Well, you’ll have to talk me into it,” he said, giving her a sideways glance and a sexy wink.

She laughed at him and pushed him back onto the bed, pulling his shirt off of him and kissing him softly and sensually. “How am I doing?” she asked, moving her full lips down his neck to his chest.

He moaned and smiled. “At this rate you’ll have me talked into marrying you in no time.” She laughed at him and bit his skin gently with her teeth. He laughed in return at her and rolled over, landing her on her back and hovering over her, looking down into her eyes. “I have some making up to do, too, I think,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers and tasting her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close to her.

“Yeah, you do,” she agreed.

He started at her lips and moved down her neck one soft, slow kiss at a time as he peeled away her clothing, like he was unwrapping a gift. She closed her eyes and grinned, lifting her chin in the air as she arched her neck. His fingers trailed over her curves, barely touching her, teasing her as light as a feather, and she thrilled with delight, gasping and drawing her breath in sharply as he tortured her so sweetly.