Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to debate further, she carried the test kit into the bathroom with her and followed the instructions. When she’d finished, she set it on the bathroom counter and set a timer for fifteen minutes.
Kyle was pacing in the kitchen when she returned.
“You didn’t believe me,” she murmured, unable to hide the hurt she’d felt earlier in the day.
“About what?”
“Seeing Sanders.”
“You watch too many crime shows.”
Carrie was stunned. “That’s probably the most insulting thing you’ve ever said to me.” She breathed deeply in an attempt to rein in her exasperation. “I’m a conscientious citizen, and you make me sound paranoid.”
“I don’t mean it like that,” Kyle said, and she knew he was telling the truth. Unfortunately, it was too late. He’d gone way beyond irritation.
“We insult each other on a regular basis,” Carrie said without rancor. “My goodness, is it any wonder our relationship is so rocky?” She pushed the hair out of her face and held it back with both hands. “Now you’re insisting we get married. Frankly, I don’t understand why.”
“There’s the small matter of a child—or the possibility of one, at any rate.”
“True,” she said smoothly, “but answer me this. If I’m not pregnant, will you rush out for a marriage license Monday morning and demand we go through with a wedding?”
“Of course not,” Kyle said, stalking to the far side of the room. All at once, he seemed to realize what he’d said. “I’d still want to marry you, just not next week.”
Carrie sat down and mulled over his response. So much for any illusions she had. So much for thinking their relationship was more than a physical one. Kyle had set her straight in the space of a single heartbeat.
“That’s answer enough,” she whispered, through a throat that had gone dry and tight all at once. “It doesn’t matter what the results of the pregnancy test are.”
“Of course it matters.”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. We’re not getting married under any circumstances.”
Kyle’s dark eyes burned with frustration. The timer dinged in the other room.
She momentarily shut her eyes, and it seemed the oxygen froze in her lungs. Moving just then felt impossible.
“You ready?” Kyle asked.
Carrie wondered if she would ever be ready. “I guess,” she said. Together they walked down the narrow hallway to the bathroom.
The test container rested on the counter.
“Blue is for positive,” Kyle reminded her as they each took one step forward.
They studied the results.
“That doesn’t look blue, does it?” Carrie asked, her voice strained and willowy.
“I’m afraid it does.”
“It’s only sort of blue, don’t you think?”
“Sweetheart, if it got any bluer we could sell it for toilet bowls. The sky doesn’t get that blue. If color is any indication, you’re carrying triplets.”
Carrie placed her hand over her mouth. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she was keeping herself from saying something she shouldn’t, or holding in a deep well of tears. The last thing she expected was to start laughing. But that’s what happened.
“Personally, I don’t think this is a laughing matter,” Kyle said sternly.
“I don’t either,” she insisted, between hoots. “But it’s so typical of me. You have to admit, I’m not the type to ever plan a pregnancy.”
“True,” Kyle agreed, and then with a martyr’s sigh said, “We’ll apply for a license Monday morning.”
“Who do you plan to marry?” she asked in identical tones. “If you want to sacrifice yourself, Kyle Harris, you’re going to have to get some other woman pregnant, because there won’t be any wedding Monday—at least not one that includes me.”
“Okay, okay,” Kyle admitted. “I blew it. I seem to do that on a regular basis with you. I want us to be married, Carrie. It’s important to me that this child have my name.”
This was an improvement over his last statement; she was willing to concede that much. “I need time to think,” she said. “I’m going home.”
“You can’t,” Kyle said automatically.
“Please, I’ll be fine.” She needed to be around things that were familiar. Kyle meant well, but he simply didn’t understand.
“Then I’m coming with you.”
She didn’t have the strength to argue with him. “If you insist,” she said listlessly. All at once she had all the strength of a rag doll.
She reached for her purse and headed for the front door but stopped cold when she opened it.
“Kyle…Kyle!” she cried. Abruptly, she whirled around and plowed into his chest and grabbed hold of his shirt with both fists. “He was here. He was here!” she said in near hysterics.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Sanders!” she cried, her inertia swept away on the winds of panic.
“How do you know?”
“Look,” she cried, twisting away and pointing toward the porch. “He brought back our luggage!”
13
“Carrie, is that you?”
“Sh-h,” Carrie whispered into the telephone receiver. “I don’t want to wake Kyle.” Unable to sleep, Carrie had phoned her sister. Not until she’d dialed the number did she realize that it was three in the morning and her sister was undoubtedly asleep.
“Where are you?” Cathie asked on the tail end of a lengthy yawn.
“My house. I needed to talk.”
“Kyle’s sleeping over?”
“It’s not like it sounds. He’s on the couch.”
“You had a fight.”
“Not exactly. Listen, I didn’t call to discuss Kyle, at least not directly. I need to talk, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I trust.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“How’d you guess?” Actually Carrie had given her sister plenty of advance warning. Now that her suspicions had been confirmed she felt the need to confide in someone. Kyle had certainly been no help. The man had a one-track mind. All he could think about was sacrificing himself on the altar of honor, despite how that made her feel.
“How’d I guess?” Cathie repeated with a small laugh. “Well, let’s just say the last conversation we had sounded promising. You took the home pregnancy test the way I suggested, and it was positive. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” A baby wasn’t the end of the world, but the idea of being a mother took some getting used to. Not knowing her condition had been far more comfortable than knowing, Carrie decided.
“What’s Kyle have to say about all this?”
This was the reason Carrie had phoned her sister in the middle of the night. “He thinks we should get married.”
Her words were followed by a soft, brief silence. “You make it sound like he’s insulting you.”
“He is,” she said, louder than she intended. Her words seemed to bounce off the walls of her tiny bedroom. “He never once said he loved me or that he was pleased about us having a baby or anything else that indicated marrying me was what he truly wanted.”
“Give him time,” Cathie suggested. “He’s dealing with shock the same way you are. He just needs a few days for his head to clear. Instead of complaining, you should be grateful.”
“I know, but I can’t seriously see myself married to Kyle. He’s wonderful, or he can be, but I can’t help feeling we’re not right for each other.”
“It seems to me you’re simply confused. Sounds like you’re in love for the first time in your life and it’s stressing you out. You’re looking for excuses not to be.”
Carrie mulled over what her sister said and then laughed softly. “When did you get so smart?”
“I don’t know, but then I’ve never been in love.”
“How can you be so sure I love him?” Her sister spoke with complete confidence, whereas Carrie felt lost in a maze of feelin
gs and doubts. She and Kyle got along perfectly in bed together. Unfortunately, they lived a whole other life outside of the bedroom.
“I knew how you felt about Kyle from the first,” Cathie said smoothly, assuredly. “You turned up on my porch step wearing a nun’s skirt, and I knew immediately something had changed. It took me a while to realize what. You’d fallen in love.
“Kyle wore that same confused, lost look when he arrived looking for you. Now, are you going to get married or not?”
Carrie hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t let anyone pressure you. Be sure before you make up your mind,” Cathie advised.
“I will,” Carrie promised.
“I can hardly wait to be an aunt. Mom’s going to go ballistic when she finds out.”
“Mom,” Carrie repeated wistfully. She wished there were some way of hiding this news from her parents, particularly her father, but that was out of the question. He’d need to know sooner or later. Her preference was later. Much later. Like four or five years later.
“You and Kyle are fighting?” Cathie asked next, cautiously, almost as if she was afraid she was prying.
Carrie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. No man had ever irritated her the way Kyle did, yet when they were apart she felt empty and alone. No man had ever said to her the terrible things he had, and yet when he took her in his arms it felt as if it was the most natural place in the world for her to be.
Some days she was convinced she never wanted to see him again, and the moment they were apart she started counting the minutes until they could be together again.
It made no sense. Nothing had made sense from the time they’d started out for the broadcasters’ convention in Dallas. Which brought up another slate of worries, one that involved Max Sanders and the Secret Service and someone named Nelson, whom she’d never even heard of before.
Only these weren’t troubles Carrie intended on burdening her sister with. Not tonight. Her plate was full as it was.
“You’ll phone me if you need anything?” Cathie asked.
“Probably.” Until now Carrie had enjoyed the role of big sister, giving her younger sibling advice, listening to Cathie’s troubles, and doling out wisdom as if she were the Dalai Lama. For the first time in their lives, their situations were reversed. It felt good to have a sister, someone she could confide in. Someone who willingly offered her a shoulder. “Thanks, Cathie,” she said, her gratitude leaking into the words.
“No problem, sis, that’s what I’m here for, to guide your love life and dish out advice. Now get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”
Carrie yawned at the suggestion to return to bed. Lately sleeping was about all she’d been doing. She couldn’t seem to stay awake past nine o’clock.
“I’ll give you a call early next week,” Cathie promised.
“Thanks again,” Carrie said and pushed a button to disconnect the line. Setting the portable phone on her bed stand, she scooted under the covers and closed her eyes.
Kyle woke as the first bright streaks of dawn slid into Carrie’s living room. He rotated one shoulder and grimaced when his neck muscles protested. Sitting upright proved to be something of a task as he discovered muscles he’d long since forgotten.
Like a fool, when Carrie had refused to stay at his place, he’d insisted on being a gentleman and sleeping on her couch. For the love of heaven, he hadn’t been serious. Nothing could have shocked him more than when Carrie had brought him a lumpy pillow and a thin blanket. He wanted to tell her it was a little like closing the barn door after the horse had escaped, but he bit his tongue. Now he wished he’d taken the time and effort to sweet-talk himself into her bed.
This business with the pregnancy had confused him. Her too, he realized. He’d have thought she’d be grateful he was willing for them to marry. Not so. Not Carrie.
Maybe Carrie needed to know that he cared for her. Nothing more should be necessary to convince her of the wisdom of marrying him.
He wandered into the kitchen and sorted through no less than ten boxes of herbal tea before he found a canister of coffee. He’d suggested she try herbal tea because it didn’t contain caffeine, and he was pleased to note she’d taken his advice. Ten times over.
He brewed himself a cup of decaffeinated coffee and walked into the bedroom where Carrie was sleeping. She was lying on her back with her arms raised on either side of her head. She resembled an angel with her hair, as rich and thick as chocolate, spilled out over the pillow.
She must have sensed his presence because she opened her eyes and blinked when she saw him.
“Morning,” he said, leaning against the doorway, cradling the coffee mug in both hands. “Did you sleep well?”
She rubbed a hand across her eyes and leveled herself onto one elbow. “What time is it?”
“Morning.” He hadn’t bothered to look. “Eight, I’d guess.”
She pulled the sheet up and over her breasts, a mistake as far as he was concerned because it brought attention to the very part of her anatomy she was trying to conceal.
“Did you sleep well?”
“No.” He wasn’t going to lie. “I’d have slept a whole lot better with you.”
“I see.” It amazed him that she could blush so easily. Kyle would never have suspected it of her.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Please.”
He moved back into the kitchen and poured her a mug. She was sitting up in bed when he returned, and smiled her appreciation when he handed her the coffee. He gave her the opportunity to take the first sip, then removed the mug from her hands and sat on the edge of the mattress so that their gazes were level. “You’re beautiful in the morning.”
She opened her mouth, and he stopped her by pressing his finger over her lips. He didn’t want her to contradict him. Yes, her hair was mussed and she wasn’t wearing makeup, but then she never did wear much. She was beautiful because that was the way he felt about her, and never more so than now, nurturing his child in her womb. Fear struck him then: the fear of losing her, of living his life without her. He couldn’t have borne that, not now.
Gently he brushed the hair from her temple, then leaned forward and kissed her. Tenderly. Without passion. Without urgency. Just so she’d know how deeply he cared.
When he eased away from her, he was shocked to find her eyes glistening with tears. She sniffled and ran the back of her hand beneath her nose.
“Tears?”
She nodded. Making a weak motion with her hand, she whispered, “I’m not generally much of a crier. My emotions seem closer to the surface all of a sudden.”
Kyle gathered her hands in his own and kissed her knuckles. “We need to talk about the future.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes. I want to marry you, Carrie, and provide the family our baby deserves.” Kyle didn’t want to pressure her, but at the same time he felt they needed to take action and—for his peace of mind—the sooner the better.
“Let me think about it, all right? I need time.”
Kyle resisted gritting his teeth. Carrie often left him feeling powerless and vulnerable. It was what disturbed him most about their relationship. The upper hand seemed to be hers. He’d swallowed his pride so often it had almost become palatable.
“Give me a few weeks to sort everything out,” she repeated. “It’s all still so new. I don’t know what’s best, what we should do.”
Kyle sighed. “Would you think I was trying to sway you one way or the other if I told you I wanted to kiss you again?”
Her long lashes brushed her cheek as she shook her head. He bent forward and kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until a familiar hot excitement gripped his body. He managed to control it, but just barely.
Breaking away from her, he noticed how silky her hair looked as it tumbled about her face. More than anything he wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her.
They were staring at each other, and it seemed to Kyl
e that Carrie was wishing for the same things he was. He lifted his hands and gently cupped her breasts in his palms. “They seem fuller,” he said.
“It feels that way to me, too. They’re more sensitive.”
“Too sensitive for me to touch?” He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, and even through the thin material of her baby doll pajamas he felt them tighten.
Carrie sucked in an abrupt breath and trembled in reaction. “No, you can touch them.”
He was fully aroused and he’d done little more than kiss her. He lowered his palm to her smooth stomach and kissed her again. While their lips were joined, he slid his hand beneath the blankets to the space between her legs. He stroked her gently there.
She trembled and clung to him, her fingers biting into the flesh of his upper arms as she rested her head against his shoulder.
“Do you mind me touching you like this?” he asked, and nibbled her ear. She shuddered when he ran the moist tip of his tongue around the perfect shape.
She made an incoherent answer as his fingers moved over the most sensitized part of her flesh. Soon she was moving against him.
“I…you’d better stop,” she pleaded.
Kyle clenched his teeth. He must have misunderstood her. She couldn’t possibly mean for him to stop.
“Kyle. Oh, please.”
“I intend to please us both,” he assured her. “I want to make love to you. Don’t you know you’re driving me crazy? You have been for weeks. I need you, Carrie. Feel how much.” He lifted her hand and placed it against the front of his pants.
She sucked in her breath. Kyle groaned too, between clenched teeth, at the mere touch of her fingers. The strength of this simple intimacy stunned him. Her power over him was almost complete. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
“I need to make love to you,” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed about it ever since Dallas.”
“Oh, Kyle, please don’t talk like that.” Her voice heaved with emotion. She made it sound as if he were mocking her.
“Talk like what?”
“Like I’m beautiful and desirable and I drive you wild with passion.”
One Night Page 16
