The Marriage Command

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Claire tried to focus on the big man, the supremely harsh and powerful looking big man, who sat across from her and had just cold-bloodedly proposed a loveless marriage to a woman he didn’t know outside of a private investigator’s report. A man who, judging by the unremitting harshness on his stony face, still didn’t seem to even like her.

As stunned and overwhelmed as she was, it was the heartless declaration of blackmail that touched off a conflagration of outrage.

Otherwise, I’ll let you stay here through the weekend, but Monday morning you’ll have to leave. The boy and I will have to work things out between us without your help.

Claire was on her feet without making a conscious decision to stand. It was a poor choice because her legs felt like spaghetti, though sheer temper might carry her through a ten-mile marathon.

“Please indulge me, Mr. Pierce,” she began with strained softness, and it was hard not to grit her teeth as she said the words. “Did you say that if I don’t agree to marry you, that I’ll never see the boy again after Monday?”

He tipped his head back slightly to keep eye contact with her. He looked relaxed, damn him. And she suddenly caught a hint of enjoyment that nettled her even more because there was something indulgent in it. As if he liked women with prickly tempers because he found them entertaining, though he wouldn’t for a moment take those tempers seriously. Which was male arrogance at its most aggravating.

“I won’t hire you to nanny the boy because it wouldn’t set right for him to have a nanny he calls momma,” he said. “I don’t care to sort through the women I know to find one who’ll be as much a mother to him as she will be to kids of her own.”

Then he delivered a rapid-fire list that stoked her outrage higher with each item.

“I like your potential. Dress you up a little, get a little glamour on you, and I’ll be satisfied with the package. If you’re as good a wife as you are a mother, I’ll be satisfied with that, too, and you can adopt the boy.”

Claire was so infuriated by that list, especially his “get a little glamour on you” remark, that she could barely keep the red haze out of her vision.

“And if you’re not satisfied with ‘the package’?” Oh how she loathed those words!

“You aren’t the kind of woman who takes something on if you can’t commit yourself to it. And once you’re committed, you follow through, whether you made a good bargain or not. Farrah is just one example.”

The harshness on his face had eased into a look of self-satisfaction. He had her pegged, and he had no compunction against letting her know he had. And he held the one thing she wanted with all her heart, so he was confident she’d knuckle under to everything he’d listed.

But if she could find some way to tolerate this arrogant manipulator and bring herself to marry him, she’d become Cody’s legal mother. The courts could then be compelled to grant her equal standing in custody issues, should she and Logan divorce.

Claire knew instantly that if she submitted to such heartless blackmail and actually married this—this creature—that there would be a divorce on the horizon. As soon after she became Cody’s legal mother as was humanly possible.

That was the commitment she’d be making if she agreed to marry Logan Pierce.

But oh, oh how she’d love to punch that arrogant look off his face! Claire had never had violent feelings before today, she’d never lifted her hand to hurt anyone in her life. But she’d never felt so wildly angry and trapped and frustrated as this man had made her feel when she’d officially lost Cody to him. That had brought her close enough to hating him.

But her anger now and this trapped and frustrated feeling was suddenly so intensely personal that she was bubbling inside. And she was scared out of her mind over the idea of having to submit to anything even remotely sexual with him. She doubted she could even stand to hold his hand, much less kiss him. Never mind the rest.

Good sex, he’d said. At the moment, she couldn’t associate either the word “good” or the word “sex” with Logan Pierce.

Though she was compelled to ask what she did next, Claire knew right away that Logan could tell she wasn’t serious about the question, that it was merely a delay. She couldn’t associate the word “love” with Logan Pierce any more easily than the words “good” or “sex.”

“What about love? You’ve said nothing about love.”

Or respect, but she reckoned that asking him about respect was laughable at this point. Respect for her was something she’d force him to learn one way or another, whether he wanted to master that particular lesson or not.

It was remarkable how quickly his arrogant, self-satisfied look stiffened and went harsh again.

“I don’t put stock in love, Miss Ryan. It’s not important.”

Claire nodded, not surprised. “You don’t have any to give, either, is that what you’re saying?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer that. “Well, you’ll need to scrape up some for Cody. I don’t care about love from you, either, but I won’t stand for you to not be loving to the boy. I also won’t tolerate any kind of abuse from you. No dragging me around like you did earlier, and if you ever raise a hand to Cody or to me, you’ll never get a second chance.”

Now his dark brows lowered into surly whorls. “I’ve never raised my hand to a woman or a child, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you think I would.”

She gave a small nod. “Good. That’s good. I’m very glad to hear that. And I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that any marriage we might make won’t be a one-way street with everything going only your way.”

“Then the answer is yes.”

“The answer is, I’ll think about it.”

His dark eyes glittered again and some of that arrogant satisfaction ghosted back over his harsh, unhandsome face. “Fair enough.”

Claire gave her head a decisive shake. “No it’s not fair, Mr. Pierce. None of this is. You might as well know now that I don’t think much of you for using the boy to manipulate me like this.”

She saw the flare of anger that caused, but the knock that came at the closed door to the hall startled her. Logan called out a terse, “What is it?” that diffused a fraction of the taut tension between them.

Elsa’s voice sounded subdued. “The boy’s awake.”

Concern for Cody waking up so soon distracted Claire, who promptly abandoned her things and hurried to the door to open it and rush through the house to Cody’s bedroom. The fact that Logan stayed behind in the den and allowed her to go alone gave her some much needed time to recover from the wild turmoil of raw emotion that tested her more savagely than anything ever had in her life.

What on earth should she do now? What could she do? The anxious questions answered themselves the moment she reached Cody’s bedroom and rushed across the room to take the boy in her arms. It seemed to take forever to quit shaking and regain her composure.

CHAPTER THREE

LOGAN had a rare appreciation for fiery women. He hadn’t expected the very proper, coolly composed Ms. Ryan to have that spark. Until today, she’d appeared meek and maybe a little too self-sacrificing. She’d seemed almost too much a Polly Pureheart for his personal taste, yet all the qualities he’d seen would do to make a fair, easily managed wife. He’d thought her full potential could be brought out and molded, that he could solve a lot of problems by getting her to marry him.

But then he’d seen that fire and it interested him. The lady had a temper, and she wasn’t quite the meek Goody Two-shoes he’d taken her for—the meek Goody Two-shoes he’d felt so guilty for squashing in court, the Goody Two-shoes he’d felt so guilty for taking the kid away from.

But she’d marry him now however angry she was, he was certain of it. And it eased his conscience to find out she wasn’t quite the gracious loser he’d thought, though he planned to reward her handsomely for losing to him. She’d be glad to raise the boy and grateful to do it, she’d enjoy having a fine house and all the money she wanted.

Though she probably couldn’t tell by how he’d acted today, he knew how to treat a lady like a queen, he knew how to satisfy one in bed.

As long as none of that required him to involve his heart, he could afford to be magnanimous. Besides, now that he’d got custody of Cliff’s boy and he was safely under his roof, Logan was ready to have other heirs. It bothered him that he and Cody were the last of the Texas Pierces. The only way to remedy that was to have more kids. Two or three besides Cody would be an impressive start.

The three months of marriage he’d planned to have with Claire before a conception, would ensure that Cody would be the right age by the time another baby arrived. After all, three years between kids seemed to be considerate to the mother. And now that Claire Ryan was here and she’d passed muster, there was no reason to delay since Cody had already turned two.

He’d allow Claire a few minutes of privacy with the boy, then he’d drive them all into town to get the marriage license before the courthouse closed for the day. Because she might be too proud to have folks find out the reason for her sudden marriage, Claire surely wouldn’t want an elaborate wedding.

And a wait would cause a separation from the boy that he was also certain she wouldn’t want. If they got the license today, they might be able to go ahead with the formalities in the next few days. He knew most of the judges in this part of Texas. If Claire would rather have a preacher do the ceremony, he’d look one up.

Satisfied with what he’d accomplished, Logan picked up the file and carried it back to lock in his desk. He paused to glance through the prenuptial agreement he’d had his lawyer draw up earlier in the week, but elected to leave it locked in the drawer with the file.

In it was the promise to allow Claire to adopt Cody. If she’d marry him without forcing him to sign this, he’d feel more comfortable. Not even he wanted to start a marriage with a prenup if word of honor was enough. And, there was always the chance that he’d misjudged Claire completely. If he had, then a break of her vows would entitle him to break his word to her.

He felt a nettle of guilt over that, but there were certain women who couldn’t be trusted. Claire Ryan appeared completely trustworthy, but then, so had his mother. He’d trusted her too, though he’d been a naive little boy at the time. He’d been too trusting and naive a couple of times when he’d been in his early twenties, but he’d wised up. At thirty-two, he was years past that kind of foolishness.

Nowadays, he automatically conferred skepticism and mistrust on any woman he was interested in, unless she proved herself undeserving of it. Cody’s mother, Farrah, hadn’t had a scrap of honor, so he was rightly cautious of Claire, whatever he’d been able to find out about her.

Claire Ryan still had a few things to prove to him before he’d feel comfortable allowing her to adopt Cody. Whatever he’d said to her about her ability to live up to her commitments, he’d seen that mutinous flare in her pretty blue eyes. He’d known the moment he’d seen it that she was capable of filing for divorce once Cody became her legal son.

Which would defeat the purpose of marrying her to solve his problems with his nephew and to have a wife to get heirs. And, Claire wasn’t quite the shy submissive flower he’d taken her for. The woman had managed to say a couple of things that had made his conscience squirm.

But then, he’d blindsided her with this, and she was upset. He’d allow her to blow off a little steam because her temper didn’t trouble him. He’d braced himself for tears, so it was a distinct relief that she’d merely shown anger. At least he knew she had enough pride not to automatically resort to tears to get her way.

Logan finished with the paperwork he’d been doing when Claire and the boy had arrived, then went in search of his bride-to-be. He remembered she’d left her things beside the chair, so he went back to the den for them.

He found her in Cody’s room, where she was sitting on the floor cross-legged with the boy in her lap as they looked through one of the oversized picture books he’d had the decorator supply.

Claire was dressed conservatively in a long-sleeved white blouse that was tucked into her belted and neatly creased khaki slacks. She’d worn simple sandals and had painted her toenails a tasteful pink. Her hair was a rich, dark brown, but her skin was city pale.

She had fine, even facial features, fairly straight teeth, but she wore almost no makeup. With a little effort and a more stylish haircut than the simple straight hair that fell to the top of her shoulder blades, she’d be striking. He noted again that she was petite and well-proportioned, but it was her long legs and her tantalizingly full breasts that he appreciated most.

He hadn’t needed an investigator to tell him that she was nothing like her promiscuous stepsister. Though he was far from handsome, he knew the look women got when they had certain thoughts. Claire hadn’t shown even an inkling of those. She was either not attracted to him at all or she didn’t have enough experience to automatically consider him in terms of a potential affair.

And that was another reason he’d chosen her. The moment a woman found out he was rich and single, she zeroed in. Claire didn’t seem at all interested in either him or his money, apart from how it affected the boy, and her chaste lifestyle was one he automatically respected.

He figured because of her reaction to him so far that she’d never fall wildly in love with him, which was fine. He wouldn’t feel as if he’d cheated her when he didn’t love her wildly back.

Claire looked up to see him in the doorway, and he noted the subtle way she stiffened. The boy must have felt it because he looked up to peer over the top of the oversized book. The moment he saw Logan, Cody turned in Claire’s lap to bury his face shyly in her shirtfront. She calmly closed the book and set it on the bookshelf behind her.

Leery of startling the boy, Logan kept his voice low. “Is he in better humor?”

Claire offered a faint smile. “Much better. Perhaps if you’d come over and sit down, he wouldn’t be so intimidated by your s-i-z-e.”

The fact that she’d spelled out the word tickled him. He brought her things and put them beside her. But instead of sitting on the floor like a woman or a kid might, Logan hunkered down and gave Claire a prompting look. After all, she was the expert and she’d just been generous enough to give advice. Though she might be doing it solely to help the boy, Logan would benefit.

“An s-m-i-l-e might help, Mr. Pierce. They look like this,” she added and widened her own stiff smile.

Logan felt the sting to his pride. Was she poking fun at him? He studied her face and it seemed a little too guileless to be believed. He wasn’t sure how to take this. If she was teasing him, he automatically took a dim view of it, though he did manage what he was sure was a more pleasant expression.

“Hey there, Cody.” His greeting to the boy felt awkward and that was a surprising frustration. He’d expected something more man-to-man, an instinctive understanding because the boy was blood kin and they were both male.

He’d have to remember that the child had had mostly female influence in his life, so it might take a little longer for them to hit it off.

Cody turned his head and sneaked a look at him before he shyly hid his face again. Claire eased the boy a little away from herself.

“Say hello to your uncle Logan, sweetheart,” she coaxed. “He’s the one who got you the beautiful book.”

As if being bought a book was a big deal to the kid, the boy looked over at him, a little less mistrustfully. But there was no hello, so Logan took a chance.

“Have you tried out the rocking horse?”

Cody merely blinked at that, but Claire shook her head.

“Ever seen a real pony?” he tried next, and felt a flush creep along his cheekbones. It felt odd and somehow unmanly to talk to the boy this way. And he was stumbling around at it in front of Claire, who handled the kid easily and with a familiarity that he suddenly doubted he’d ever have.

It was a reminder not only of her power over his nephew, but that however dense the judge had been, Claire Ryan was the one person qualified to continue raising this boy. Logan might have won the legal right, but morally, Claire was the one who’d earned it. The hard way.

Knowing that did nothing to ease his sense of guilt for pushing to get the boy, and it annoyed him that the guilt he’d tried to ignore about blackmailing Claire suddenly spiked. He had good motives, and he meant to cause only good to come out of this, but he’d charged into something private and special to lay claim to a child whom he was using to coerce a woman into marriage.

He’d taken away Claire’s choices with both things, and once she married him, he’d be after even more things that she might not have chosen to give him otherwise. It was all he could do now to tamp down his conscience to a more bearable level.

“We’ll go see a real pony when we get back from town,” he said gruffly, then lifted his gaze to Claire, compelled to keep pushing despite his feelings of guilt. “Are you done thinkin’ about this? It’d be best to get to town before the courthouse closes.”

Claire had been privately enjoying the big man’s effort to somehow connect with the boy, and she’d been unwillingly touched by it. It was clear Logan was trying, and it was also clear that he probably had no experience with two-year-olds. She’d seen the flush that had darkened his tanned skin and again felt as if she was glimpsing something—embarrassment this time—that humanized the man and made him less objectionable. Until he’d mentioned the courthouse.