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Burley never had. Burley had said the kitchen was woman’s work. “You could set the table if you’d like.”
Carter took the initiative and started hunting through cabinets for what he wanted. “Best way to find out where everything is,” he explained with a cheeky grin.
“You’re probably right.” Desiree found herself smiling back, even though it was unsettling to see a stranger going through everything as though he had the right.
He has the right. He’s your husband.
As she peeled potatoes and put vegetables in a pot on the stove, Desiree realized she had been extraordinarily lucky in her second choice of husband. Carter wasn’t like Burley. He could control his passions. It was too bad he was getting such a bad bargain. She couldn’t be the wife he obviously wanted and needed. She was too bruised in spirit to respond as he wished.
Desiree had planned this dinner at home because she had feared that conversation between them would be stilted, and it would be embarrassing to sit across from each other in a restaurant in total silence. However, when the three of them sat down together, things didn’t turn out at all as she had expected. Carter, bless him, wasn’t the least bit taciturn. He even condescended to answer several of Nicole’s questions. However, when Nicole finished eating and approached Carter, Desiree realized there were limits to his tolerance.
“Can I sit on your lap?” Nicole asked.
“You’re a big girl,” Carter replied.
“Not too big,” Nicole said, sidling up next to him. “My friend Shirley sits in her daddy’s lap.”
“I’m not your—”
Desiree cut him off before he could deny any relationship to her daughter. “Carter has a full stomach right now. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room and play,” she said.
Nicole gave Carter a look from beneath lowered lashes. “Is your stomach really full?” she demanded suspiciously.
Desiree saw the war Carter waged, the way his hands fisted. “Nicole! Go play.”
Nicole’s lower lip stuck out, but she knew better than to argue when her mother used that tone of voice.
The little girl had already turned to leave when Carter grabbed her under the arms and hefted her into his lap. “I suppose you can sit here for a minute,” he said grudgingly.
But Desiree caught the brief, awful look of anguish in Carter’s eyes as his arms closed around the little girl.
Nicole settled back against Carter’s chest and chattered happily, oblivious to the undercurrents.
Over the next five minutes, Carter’s face looked more and more strained, and his jaw tightened. Desiree realized there was something very wrong.
“That’s enough for now, Nicole,” Desiree said. “It’s time for you to go upstairs and choose a book for me to read before your nap.”
Carter sighed as though relieved of a great burden as he lifted Nicole from his lap and set her on her feet.
Nicole ran upstairs without a backward glance, leaving them alone at the table. Desiree waited for Carter to explain himself. To her amazement, he pretended as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“If I’d known how good you can cook, I’d have jumped at that first proposal,” he said.
Desiree didn’t press the issue. And she chose to accept the compliment, rather than be put off by the fact Carter hadn’t wanted to marry her at first. “Thank you.”
“Maybe you could give me a tour of the ranch this afternoon,” Carter suggested.
“Nicole usually takes a nap after lunch. I should be up there getting her settled right now. You’re welcome to take a look on your own.”
Carter saw the relief in Desiree’s eyes at the thought they wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day together. He could see she was going to use the child as an excuse to keep them apart. It was funny, because he had planned to use ranch business with her as a way to avoid the child.
“I can wait until Nicole wakes up. We’ll go then,” he said.
“She’ll have to come with us.”
As a chaperon, Carter thought wryly. But the little girl obviously couldn’t be left alone, and there was no one else around to take care of her. One or the other of them would always have to be with her. Which led him to ask, “How on earth have you managed to do the chores around the ranch and take care of Nicole at the same time?”
“Sometimes it isn’t easy,” Desiree admitted.
Carter thought that was probably the understatement of the century.
“All right,” he said. “While Nicole’s napping you can show me around the house.”
She gave him a disconcerted look. Was he looking for an opportunity to get her alone in the bedroom? “There isn’t much to see.”
“You can show me what needs fixing. I couldn’t help noticing that the faucet drips in the kitchen, and the newel post on the stairs wobbles.”
Two pink spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She was thinking of bed, while he was thinking of dripping faucets! It would be funny if it weren’t so humiliating. “I didn’t marry you to get a handyman.”
He grinned. “But isn’t it lucky that I am one? Come on, Desiree, every house needs a few repairs now and then.”
Her lips flattened grimly. “I’m afraid this one needs more than that.”
“Oh?”
She recited a long list of problems with the house that ended, “And I’m not sure the furnace will make it through the winter.”
He stared at her, stunned by the enormity of what she had been coping with on her own. No wonder she had wanted—needed—a husband. Strange as it seemed, he felt better knowing how much work the ranch needed. It was a rational explanation for why she had married him, even if she had done it in a damned havy cavy way.
He could have used his money and had repairmen do everything that needed to be done in a matter of weeks. But he didn’t want her to know yet about his wealth. He wanted a chance to be needed—loved?—for himself alone. Later would be soon enough to reveal the rest.
“I guess I’ll start on those repairs while Nicole is napping,” he conceded finally.
“I usually do something quiet, so I won’t disturb her.”
“And repairing the newel post is hardly quiet.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
She shook her head. He was pleased to see just the hint of a smile tease the corners of her mouth. The scar didn’t pucker so badly with the smaller smile. He forced his eyes away from the mark on her face.
“All right,” he said with a gusty sigh. “You can show me the ranch books this afternoon. If you don’t think that would be too noisy a proposition?”
Desiree giggled. She didn’t know where the sound had come from, and it certainly wasn’t anything she could remember doing recently. But the look of surrender to the inevitable on Carter’s face struck her as funny.
“Just let me get Nicole settled, and I’ll be back to do the dishes.”
“I’ll do them,” Carter volunteered.
“That’s not necessary, I—”
“The sooner the dishes are done, the sooner we can get to those ranch books.”
What Desiree heard in his voice, what she saw in his eyes was The sooner we can be alone.
“Maybe you’d rather take that tour of the ranch,” she suggested.
Carter shook his head no. “I’d rather wait and go with you.”
Desiree stood rooted where she was, pierced by a look in his blue eyes that held a wealth of promises. She wanted to warn him that she couldn’t fulfill those promises. But something kept her silent. The longer it took him to figure out the truth about her sexually, the better. She dreaded the disgust she was sure would be her lot when he realized what a failure she was in bed.
Desiree took one last look over her shoulder at Carter before she left the kitchen. He was already clearing the table. Her grandmother’s silver-rimmed china looked fragile in his big hands, but he moved with easy grace between the table and sink. The thought of Nicole waiting anxiously for her upstairs pulled her from the mesmerizing sight of her husband doing the dishes on their wedding day.
To Nicole’s delight, Desiree read two stories. The first because she always did, the second because she was putting off the moment when she would have to rejoin Carter in the parlor, which also served as the ranch office.
When Nicole’s eyelids drifted shut and her tiny rosebud mouth fell slack, Desiree realized the inevitable could be avoided no longer.
She rose and squared her shoulders like an aristocrat headed for the guillotine. It was time to begin the process of becoming a wife and partner to the stranger downstairs.
Desiree felt her legs trembling and told herself she was being foolish. There was no need to fear Carter. He was not like Burley.
Not yet. But what happens when you disappoint him in bed?
That won’t be for a while yet. Carter promised—
You saw the look in his eyes when he carried you over the threshold. Was that the look of a patient man?
So he desires me. That isn’t a bad thing. Especially since we’re married.
Are you ready to submit to him? To trust him with the secrets of your body?
Desiree shuddered. Not yet. Not yet. She ignored her trembling limbs and headed downstairs to join her husband. She would just have to be firm with Carter.
Sex would have to wait.
CHAPTER FOUR
DESIREE WALKED DOWN THE stairs, knees trembling—and found Carter sound asleep on the couch. An awkward feeling of tenderness washed over her as she stared at the sleeping man. Apparently he had needed a nap as much as Nicole. She sat down across from him in the comfortable arm chair that faced the fireplace in the parlor and searched his features.
The rugged planes of his face were less fearsome in repose. The blue shadows under his eyes suggested that he had put in some long hours the week before they were married. What had he been doing? The fact that she had no idea pointed to how much a stranger he was to her. A boyish lock of chestnut hair fell across his forehead, and she had to resist the urge to reach over and brush it back into place.
Desiree breathed a sigh of relief that her fears about confronting Carter hadn’t been realized. At least, not yet. She knew she ought to get up and go do some chores, but the fire made the room seem so cozy that she settled deeper into the overstuffed chair. The house was quiet, with only the sound of the furnace doing its level best to keep up with the cold. She scooched down in the chair, put her feet up on an equally overstuffed footstool, and let her eyelids droop closed.
Desiree wasn’t sure what woke her, but she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. It was a feeling she recognized, and one that caused her heart to pound so hard she could almost hear it. She took a deep breath and let it out, forcing herself to relax. Then she opened her eyes.
Carter was sitting on the couch, staring at her. At some point while she was asleep, he had changed his clothes and was now wearing jeans and a red and blue plaid shirt with his work boots.
She watched him through wary eyes without moving.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
She sat up carefully. “You didn’t.”
“If you say so.” He yawned and stretched. She was impressed again by the breadth of his chest, by the play of muscles in his shoulders and arms. He caught her looking at him and grinned. “I had hoped we’d spend some part of the day sleeping together, but I had something a little different in mind.”
Desiree tensed, waiting for him to make some move to close the distance between them. But he relaxed with one arm settled along the back of the couch and hung one booted ankle across the opposite knee.
“I don’t suppose we’ll have time now to look at the books before Nicole is awake.”
Desiree looked at her watch. “We’ve slept away the afternoon!”
Carter thrust all ten fingers through his hair, leaving it standing in all directions. “I guess I was more tired than I thought. It’s been a tough week.”
“Oh?” Desiree arched a questioning brow. “What kept you so busy?”
Carter cleared his throat. “Just some business I needed to clear up before the wedding. Nothing worth mentioning.”
He was lying. Desiree didn’t know why she was so sure about it, except that one moment he had been looking at her—well, not at her face, but in her direction—and the next, his gaze was focused intently on the leafy design sewn into his worn leather boots. She didn’t believe in keeping secrets. It spawned distrust. But considering the fact she hadn’t been totally honest with Carter, Desiree could hardly challenge him on the matter.
“What shall we do with the time until supper?” Carter asked.
Desiree was thinking in terms of chores that could be finished, when Carter suggested, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what you’ve been doing in the years since we last met?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, what matters is the present and the future, not the past.”
Carter pursed his lips and muttered, “If only that were true.”
Desiree met Carter’s gaze. His eyes held the same despairing look she had seen when he held Nicole at the dinner table. What had happened, she wondered, that had caused him so much pain? “Are you all right?”
The vulnerability in his eyes was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by icy orbs that didn’t invite questioning. Desiree welcomed the sight of her daughter in the doorway. “Did you have a good nap, sweetheart?”
“Uh-huh. Are we going for a ride now?” Nicole bounced over to Carter and laid her hands on his thigh, as though she had known him forever.
Desiree held her breath waiting for his reaction. It came in the form of a puff of breath Carter expelled so softly it could barely be heard. He stared at the spot where Nicole’s tiny hands rested so confidently against him. He stood without touching her, and her hands of necessity fell away.
Nicole reached up to tug on the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “Can we go see Matilda first?”
“Who’s Matilda?” Carter asked.
“She’s my calf. She’s black.”
“Matilda’s mother didn’t survive the birth,” Desiree explained quietly. “I’ve been keeping the calf in the barn and feeding her by hand.” Desiree saw the look of incredulity on Carter’s face and hurried to explain, “I—we—can’t afford to lose a single head of stock.”
“I had no idea things were so bad,” Carter said.
“There’s no danger of losing the ranch,” she reassured him. “I’ve just been extra busy because my hired hand broke his leg and has been out of commission for nearly two months.”
For reasons Desiree didn’t want to explain to Carter, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hire a stranger to work for her. Which made no sense at all, considering the fact she had married one.
Nicole grabbed Carter’s hand and began tugging him from the room. Desiree watched to see if he would free himself. He did, quickly shoving his hands in his back pockets. But he followed where Nicole led. She trailed the two of them from the parlor through the house to the kitchen, where they retrieved their coats, hats and gloves and headed out the kitchen door.
