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“You have to know I didn’t. I would never deliberately bring a baby into a mess like this! You seemed so nice that night, and idiot that I was, I trusted you enough to confide in you … and sleep with you.”
He stared into her eyes for a long time.
“Okay,” he muttered as he finally put the SUV into gear and pulled out into traffic. “Okay.”
“The morning after we slept together my father called me and told me about the missing money from the Houses for Hurricane Victims. He said you took it, and that you set him up.”
“Well, I didn’t. So do you always believe everything your father says?”
“I try to see his side of things … because he’s my father and the only parent I have left.”
“Look,” he growled, “I was nice to you that night because … Hell, I already told you why ….” He swore under his breath. “If I’m already damned in your eyes, why should I bother to defend myself?”
After that final question, the thick silence that fell between them grew increasingly strained.
Her mind drifted, and she remembered all too well how Jake had coaxed her to confide in him their first night together. He’d pretended to listen to her fears concerning her father and to understand; pretended to care about her, and, she, as always, too eager and made happy by any kindness, however small, had ended up in his bed.
But not before she’d told him too much. Pretending sympathy and passion after her confidences, Jake had soothingly kissed her mouth, her face, her throat, her breasts, until he’d made her feel safe and breathless with desire for him.
“It’s going to be all right,” he’d whispered in a kindly tone. “Dark moments are part of life. They teach us lessons we need to learn.”
Soon she’d been clinging, longing for more than his compassion. Forgetting her father and his troubles, she’d begged Jake to make love to her and he’d complied, showering her with all the warmth and passion she’d craved.
Then the next morning Jake had gone out. Later her father had called her and cruelly informed her that the merger was in trouble—and that Jake Claiborne, along with Hayes Daniels, Logan’s CEO, had joined forces and reported him to the feds.
Her father and his bank and shipyard had gone down in flames, and Jake was at least partially responsible. Every time she’d thought of how she’d bared her soul and given her body to a man who’d spent the night with her, maybe to milk her for information about her father she’d felt freshly used and humiliated. She’d told herself she shouldn’t ever see Jake again or even take his calls.
Not so easy when he’d continued to call her and all her friends had cut her dead.
Most of the time she’d ignored his calls, but once when he’d phoned her after some particularly vicious stories about her had filled the Internet and newspapers, she’d actually wanted to hear his voice so much she’d answered. They’d soon quarreled, but she’d had the feeling he’d been concerned about her. Then she’d seen him at Logan’s wedding. Not that they’d spoken.
She forced her mind back to the present and their new reality. Jake was driving so fast, she was clutching the armrest while houses and strip malls flew by in a blur. When they reached his sprawling home, half a dozen reporters’ vans were still lined up in front of his house.
Van doors popped open and reporters rushed toward his SUV as he swerved into his drive. Ignoring them, Jake drove the large vehicle slowly toward a gate that opened electronically and then shut behind them, locking out the invasive horde.
In his garage Jake cut the engine and turned slowly to face her. “Okay, you told me what you want and what you think about me, didn’t you?”
“I guess,” she replied.
“So, here’s what I want out of this disastrous affair. First, we involve as few people as possible in our little scheme. I don’t want my grandfather hurt. I’m not on the easiest terms with Logan or his new wife, Cici, so the less they know about this, the better. My grandfather’s lonely. I don’t want him forming an unsuitable attachment to a woman I don’t plan to keep in my life any longer than necessary.”
“But he was so friendly to me at his party. Do you really want me to be rude to him?”
“Be polite but cool. In case you didn’t realize it, you’re natural at that role.”
“Thanks … for nothing,” she whispered.
“Not for nothing, sweetheart. I agreed to marry you, didn’t I? For me—that’s a big step.”
“For me, too,” she said.
His weary expression told her he didn’t believe her. “You … proposed.”
“Not because I wanted to,” she flared.
“So—I guess the next step is to plan our wedding. Are you up to that or do you want me to get Vanessa to handle it?”
As a child her mother had let her decorate for all her parties. Excitedly they’d cut out cardboard stars and glued glitter on them. They’d hung posters and sent out invitations. Once her mother had rented ponies and Alicia and all her friends had ridden in the back yard. But after her mother’s death, the celebration of Alicia’s birthdays, when remembered, and of the important milestones in her life had always been planned by her father’s employees.
No way was she going to let her wedding, such as it was, be planned by Jake’s office staff.
“I’ll plan it,” she whispered, hurt beyond words that he’d suggested such a thing even though she knew her feelings were utterly illogical.
Pregnancy. Hormones. A marriage of convenience to Jake. She was definitely in for a roller-coaster ride.
Six
How ironic that St. Anthony’s Garden, the spot his bride had chosen for their wedding, had once been the most popular dueling ground in New Orleans. Too bad the twenty-first century was more civilized. If Jake could have called his bride’s father out and shot him, he would have.
Tonight peace reigned. Birds chirped high in the oak trees. A great sculpture of the Sacred Heart reigned in the shady nook that smelled so sweetly of olives. Beyond the garden, tourists chattered as they posed in Pirate’s Alley snapping pictures. In the distance street musicians played jazz.
Jake wanted to hate Alicia for complicating his life but reason told him he was equally to blame. He didn’t want to marry her, but with every word that the priest uttered binding him to Alicia Butler, his desire for her grew until it felt like a crushing weight. Indeed, ever since he’d agreed to the marriage, thoughts of a naked and eagerly writhing Alicia in his bed had consumed him. All night long he’d lain awake in his bed and thought of her lying in hers downstairs, and he’d wondered if she was thinking of him.
Why did she have to stand so close to him in the dense, humid air so that with every breath he inhaled her perfume?
They say a little piece of paper doesn’t matter; that it changes nothing.
They don’t know crap. He felt trapped—doomed. At the same time his body raged to have her again. And again. He burned as if he had a fever. His feelings for this woman were illogical and out of proportion to any he’d ever felt for another.
Get a grip.
To distract himself Jake stared up at the triple spires of St. Louis Cathedral towering above their small wedding party hunched together beneath the hurricane-damaged trees. The only guests were his secretary and her bored-looking son, whose dark head was bent over some electronic device.
Thankfully, no member of his own family or Alicia’s was present to witness this farce.
It didn’t console him that Alicia seemed equally miserable. Her slim fingers that gripped his arm for support shook. Her carriage was rigid; her lovely face ashen.
His heart caught. Why should he sympathize? With a little imagination, surely she could have dreamed up a better solution than a sexless marriage that was already driving him crazy.
A man forced into a shotgun marriage should get something for his trouble, Jake thought gloomily. Why had he stupidly agreed not to sleep with her?
He’d been sober, that was why. He never thought straight sober.
Too bad he wasn’t sober now. Thanks to the shots of whiskey he’d drunk to give him the courage to show up, he felt dangerously near some breaking point.
The late-evening sunlight sifting through the oaks caressed her high, classic brow and made her creamy skin glow. Every time their glances met, her large, dark eyes shot sparks. Why did she keep licking her plump, sensual mouth? Didn’t she know that the sight of her tongue had him remembering all the erotic places her moist lips and tongue had touched him with deft little strokes?
His gaze drifted over her straight chiseled nose, her delicate chin and her long graceful neck. Her white lace sheath was skintight, showing off her flawless figure even as the purity of its color made her look virginal. How could a pregnant woman whose breasts were swollen look so untouched and sexy?
Hell.
“Jake, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?” Father Alex asked.
Alicia’s hot, dark eyes flashed when they met Jake’s again, causing his blood to quicken.
“I will,” he whispered hoarsely through clenched teeth.
No matter how he fought to blank out her soft response as she pledged herself to him forever, when her husky voice said, “I will,” something shifted inside him and the dark need to claim her obsessed him all over again.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait to slip his ring on her finger. He didn’t want other men looking at her or touching her without knowing who she belonged to.
She was his wife. His. Period.
As the priest continued to drone, Jake’s blood buzzed with fierce passion. Damn it, he wanted to at least kiss her. Wasn’t that part of this hellish ceremony?
After an interminable amount of sanctimonious verbiage, the priest finally pronounced them man and wife. “You may kiss your bride,” he said.
In a flutter, Alicia tried to turn away, but Jake grabbed her slim wrist and spun her into his hard arms. Cutting off her startled cry of protest, he claimed her mouth with his.
Her hands came up to push against his wide chest, but at the first touch of his lips, she sighed and then whispered his name.
“Jake, oh, Jake …” Her dark eyes were aflame with needs as deep and dark as his own. Rising onto her tiptoes, her arms circling his neck, she clung, leaning into his body.
She was soft and warm. Waves of hot pleasure washed through him. Her lips parted, inviting more.
Maybe everything about their marriage was wrong, but this felt right. Too right.
She was shaking, and so was he as his tongue swept inside her warm, honeyed mouth.
His kiss was needlessly aggressive, possessive and primitive. Once he’d started kissing her, some force outside him took over, and he couldn’t stop himself.
He’d married her, hadn’t he? She was his. If his pulse had been racing before the kiss, her satiny mouth and honeyed taste made it accelerate to rocket speed.
Ever since he’d kissed her that afternoon she’d shown up on his doorstep, he’d thought about doing it again, thought about it too damn much. The night he’d spent in the swamp to get his head straight had changed nothing.
His arms crushed her body to his. He wanted her to moan, to press her slim body and heavy breasts closer, and to go limp and beg. The longer he kissed her, the more he wanted from her.
“Jake, we’re in public,” she whispered shyly. Her slender hands fells away from his neck and wedged themselves between their bodies. Pushing against him, she stared up at him with eyes filled with a mixture of longing and embarrassment.
Slowly her puny efforts penetrated his lust-charged brain, and he realized he was way out of line.
What the hell was he doing? Cursing his damnable weakness for her, he let her go and pivoted free.
Blushing, Alicia fell back a few feet. Turning her back to him, she wiped her mouth and smoothed her hair with hands that trembled.
When Vanessa’s sharp, questioning gaze sought his, he felt like an idiot, so he scowled back at her, willing to keep her damn mouth shut and mind her own business for once. She did, but her expression softened as she regarded first him and then his wife.
Then he realized Vanessa wasn’t the only member of their little party who was gazing at them with rapt fascination. Her son had stopped playing with his electronic device, and Father Alex had dropped his Bible and looked agitated as he stooped to pick it up.
Feeling a growing pressure to say something or do something, he turned on Alicia. “Well, now that we’ve gotten the ceremony out of the way, Vanessa can drive you home. I’m going back to my office.”
Alicia’s cheeks flamed with wounded pride. “But it’s Saturday.”
“So?”
“But … I mean … when will you be home?”
He didn’t want her to know how profoundly she affected him. He didn’t want any of them to know.
“This is hardly a real marriage,” he said beneath his breath. “So don’t wait up. Watch a movie. Read a book. Pet the beast. Frankly, I don’t care what you do.”
She turned so white, he was afraid she’d faint. He was reaching for her when Vanessa rushed to her side.
More than anything he wanted to take Alicia in his arms again. He wanted to drive her home and spend the night with her, but his feelings were too raw and charged.
His bride’s stricken expression made him feel like a heel. He’d hurt her, and he felt bad about that, too.
How the hell had she turned the tables on him? Her father had stolen money from his charity and from thousands of other innocent people. She was probably in on the entire scam.
But was she?
Damn it. Fool that he was, he very much wanted to believe she was innocent.
“Some honeymoon, huh?” Vanessa smiled as she stood on Jake’s front porch. “I’d come in and stay for a while if I didn’t have Rick in the car.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with my boss, and I don’t really know you, other than what I’ve read, but if you feel like talking to somebody, remember my home phone is number two on your speed dial. I’ll be home with the kids all evening.” Vanessa smiled at her.
“Thanks.” Just knowing that someone was out there was reassuring. “And thanks for coming today,” Alicia said. “I … I always dreamed of a different kind of wedding.”
“Don’t we all? I had a great wedding and a lousy marriage. Maybe you’ll have the reverse. It could happen. Jake’s a good man, better than most—but he is a man. Sure, he has his limitations. Trust me, he already had a lot on his plate before you showed up on his doorstep.”
“I know. And he thinks it’s all my fault.”
“I’m beginning to doubt that. You hang in there … and he’ll see you for who you really are. Be patient …. Oh, who am I to talk? I’m really the last thing from a romantic.”
Vanessa reached for her and pulled her into her arms. After hugging her, she whispered, “Good luck. You deserve it. For what it’s worth, you were a very beautiful bride. I think you knocked Jake off his feet. He’ll be back, probably sooner than you expect.”
“You’d better be calling to tell me you didn’t go through with it!” Mitchell roared.
Alicia sagged against a wall as she gripped the telephone. A small voice did ask why he couldn’t once take her side. Vanessa, who didn’t even know her, was at least trying not judge her.
“But Daddy ….”
In spite of the fact that Jake had forbidden her to call her father, she had. While Jake had been at work, she’d left her father a message yesterday informing him of her intention to marry Jake today. Besides, what was the harm? She hadn’t told him where or when, so it wasn’t as if she’d invited him and he might show up and upset Jake or anything.
As was his custom, Mitchell hadn’t even bothered to return her call in a timely fashion.
