Karen woke to the hum of an electric razor and the splashing of water in the wash basin. She rolled over and reached for Shane but she was alone in the big bed. She opened her eyes and realized that he was making the sounds she was hearing. Intimate sounds that made her smile.
A glance out the window told her that the fog had lifted and the day was sunny and clear. The hands on her wristwatch pointed to one o'clock. They'd slept for four hours and she felt marvelous. She sat up and stretched as the sounds from the bathroom ceased and Shane came into the room. He looked freshly scrubbed and much more rested. She held out her arms to him and he sat on the side of the bed and kissed her. He tasted of wintergreen toothpaste and shaving lotion and his hands pressed her to him.
"Do you feel better now?"
She nodded. "Yes, do you?"
"Much." He pulled away from her and stood up. "The bathroom's all yours, but don't be long—lunch is ready."
Mrs. Whitney greeted them, then stayed discreetly in the background as she served lunch, but Karen could feel the chill of her disapproval. Without even saying a word she had managed to let Karen know that she thought Shane had been out of his mind to marry her. Karen had observed Mrs. Whitney and Audrey deep in conversation at times and she wondered if Mrs. Whitney was disappointed that Shane hadn't married Audrey.
The housekeeper was quickly forgotten, however, when Karen realized that she was starving and attacked the fresh garden vegetable soup that was placed before her. She hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. She had been too nervous to do more than nibble at the wedding and too upset to eat breakfast this morning. There were breast-of-turkey sandwiches to go with the soup and snow pudding with a creamy lemon sauce for desert. Shane watched her devour everything with wry amusement, but she noticed that he wasn't turning anything down either.
Later they went for a leisurely ride along Seventeen Mile Drive. At the Spanish Bay picnic area he pulled off the road into a secluded spot where they could sit and watch the breakers form far out at sea, then come rolling inward, foamy whitecaps riding the crest to smash and break with a muted roar against the shore. Shane put his arm around Karen and they relaxed against the cushioned seat back as he said, "I want to talk to you, Karen."
A stab of fear splintered and raced through her. Was he going to tell her he didn't want her anymore? Would he offer her a bonus for trying and send her on her way? She raised her face to look at him and he must have seen her fear because his jaw hardened and he growled, "What is it about me that frightens you so? I've never laid a hand on you but you look at me like you expect a beating."
She shook her head. "I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid of what you might do."
"What on earth do you think I'm going to do?"
She buried her face in his chest. "I'm afraid you'll send me away."
His arms around her drew her close and she could feel his heart pounding beneath her cheek. With a little groan he spoke into her hair. "Karen, I don't even pretend to understand you. I thought I was going to have to convince you to stay with me and you were afraid I'd send you away. What is it with you? Last night you fought me, screamed that you hated me, and this morning you curled up and slept with me with no fear at all."
"I told you—" she murmured.
"I know." He sighed. "You're so damn young! I feel like a heel taking advantage of you."
Her arms tightened around his waist. "No! You're not taking advantage of me!"
His fingers caressed the nape of her neck. "Yes I am. Don't you know that if I had the strength to send you away I'd have done so that afternoon on the bluff, when I woke and found you sleeping in my arms. I knew then that you were dynamite and I should get rid of you, but I couldn't. I know now that the only thing I can decently do is have this marriage annulled and send you away to school. But I can't. You're like a fever in me that can't be quenched."
He lifted her head and his lips teased hers, then clung. Her arms wound around his neck and he turned so he could press the full length of her body against his. The kiss deepened as their passion mounted until Shane forcibly pulled himself away from her. His voice quivered as he said, "Hey, none of that! My self-control is gone after what you did to me last night, and there's something very important that I have to discuss with you."
She felt the old fear again and kept her eyes down so Shane could not see as she said, "What is it?"
"Karen, are you sure you want to go through with this agreement of ours? It's true I can't send you away but if you want to change your mind I'll let you go. So far, it's not too late."
She looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I want to have your baby, Shane."
There was a fleeting look of relief on his face as he said, "All right, then, we'll forget about the wedding ceremony and start over."
She didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, my wide-eyes little innocent, that I'll forego my husbandly rights and court you as I should have done earlier."
She blinked. "But—"
He grinned. "Don't argue. I could easily be dissuaded! I'll move you into the other bedroom of our suite and we'll pretend the wedding never happened. We'll get to know each other the way we should have done before."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The sooner they consummated their marriage, the sooner she would get pregnant and he would have his heir. There was only one explanation and she could hardly bear to ask. "Don't you want me, Shane?"
He took her in his arms again and his voice was husky. "Oh, I want you Karen—never doubt that—but I'm not quite the animal you seem to think I am. You have to want me, too." He let her go and started the engine. "Would you like to go to a movie?"
They found a theater in Monterey that was showing a spy thriller and afterward they had spaghetti in a tiny restaurant, where their casual dress was suited to the red-checked table cloths and dripping candles stuck in wine bottles. Their mood was gay and relaxed and when they got home Shane helped Karen move some of her things into the lavender room that had been his mother's. He kissed her good night and left and she felt curiously bereft.
The next morning she made her bed carefully so the maids wouldn't know how badly she had failed Shane.
Shane greeted Karen at breakfast with a lingering kiss and the suggestion that they spend the day exploring the charming community of Carmel-by-the-Sea, a few miles southeast of them. Karen was delighted. She'd been to Carmel before with her parents, but Shane was a resident and knew the 'in' places where tourists were discouraged.
During the morning they toured the small but elegant art galleries along Ocean Avenue and had lunch in Carmel Plaza, with it's flowering garden and parklike beauty. Shane chose a French country cafe specializing in delicious Brittany crepes and omelettes served in true European fashion. They ordered a sumptuous concoction called a Niçoise Omelette, which consisted of fresh zucchini, tomatoes, green pepper and onion—all prepared in their natural juices then delicately combined with cheese. Shane drank wine but Karen couldn't resist the Cafe Viennois: espresso, chocolate, steamed milk and vanilla ice cream topped with whipped cream.
The breeze died down in the afternoon and the sun felt warm as they walked to the white sandy beach bordered by rare Monterey cypress trees. Swimming was prohibited because of the undercurrents, but they took of their shoes and walked along the icy cold ocean that occasionally lapped up around their ankles, then pulled back again, leaving their feet wet and caked with white sand.
They moved away from the ocean and found a secluded spot behind a boulder that sheltered them from curious eyes. Karen sank down wearily and Shane dropped down beside her. He took her in his arms and lowered her to the sand. It was soft, almost like a firm mattress, and his face was only inches above hers. He brushed the chestnut hair from her face and murmured, "Are you tired?"
Her hand caressed his cheek as she answered, "A little. I'm not used to so much walking."
He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose, then teased her lips
until, with a little moan of frustration, she took his dark head in her hands and guided his mouth to hers, then held it there as their lips clung. His arms tightened and he rolled over, pulling her on top of him and letting her take the initiative. His cheeks and chin were rough under her lips but his eyelids were smooth to the flick of her tongue. His breath came in little gasps as she sought and found the pleasure points at the side and base of his throat. With a groan he rolled her off him and sat up, his knees drawn up under his chin and his arms clasped around his legs.
For a minute Karen lay there stunned, unable to adjust to the sudden change. She watched Shane sitting there looking out over the beach, his face an unreadable mask. She sat up and cleared her throat before she asked, "Shane, what's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"
His look softened and he took her hand and kissed the palm, then held it against his cheek. "You were doing everything right, but my self-control is limited, Karen. Another few minutes of that and we'd have been arrested for outraging public decency!"
She chuckled and leaned over to kiss him lightly. "We could go home," she breathed.
The light in his eyes told her that he knew what she was really offering but he made no move to hold her again. Instead he said, "I'd like that more than you can possibly know, but we'd better not rush it. I can take cold showers for a few more days. I want you to be sure."
Karen wanted to tell him that she was sure, that she'd never been more sure of anything in her life, but she was too shy with him to put her feelings into words. He had every reason to distrust her impulsive offer after what she had done to him on their wedding night. No man would deliberately put himself through that twice!
The next day they went back to Karen's hometown to clear up some minor business details and give Karen a chance to say goodbye to some of her family friends. It was there that she found out for the first time what Shane's business was.
Ted Webster, their next-door neighbor whom she'd known all her life asked the question, and Shane answered. "We design and build boats. We have several medium-priced lines but most of our sales are in modification and custom-built models. We will either modify one of our standard models or design to the customer's specifications."
Ted, a boat owner himself, prodded further and Shane continued. "The business was started by my great-grandfather, who built a boat for himself. Some of his friends liked it and asked him to build boats for them and pretty soon he was in business. It remained strictly family for two generations, but by the time my father took over we had gotten too big and had to sell some stock to the public. However, the McKittrick family retains the controlling interest and it will be handed down to my son."
His son, Karen thought to herself with a pang. His son, not hers.
The next morning they slept late and then drove north on highway 1 to Santa Cruz, where they spent the afternoon on the boardwalk at the beach. It was a gaudy, noisy, raucous place with swarms of people, young and old, in shorts and faded jeans and damp bathing suits, milling around taking advantage of the last week before school started again.
Karen fully enjoyed herself. She had hot dogs and soda and rode the ferris wheel, ate hamburgers and rode the merry-go-round, and ate cotton candy and rode the roller coaster. They shared a seat on the sky tram and rode high above the boardwalk from one end to the other, then walked back by way of the games booths, where they threw balls at bottles, darts at balloons, and shot guns at moving targets, collecting numerous garishly colored stuffed animals as they went. When they'd ridden all the rides and played all the games, they put on their swimsuits and went swimming in the ocean. The water was cold and they stayed in only long enough to get wet, then stretched out on the warm sand and let the sun dry them.
When Karen's light skin began to turn pink Shane announced that it was time to go. Shane was silent during the drive home and retreated to his den as soon as he had changed. After dinner, he had more work to catch up on and some phone calls to make in his office, so Karen went into the library and started to work on her cataloguing. She'd left it only partially finished when she got caught up in wedding plans, and she was anxious to complete it. She loved the library and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books.
The hours flew by and it was ten o'clock when Shane came looking for her. She got up from her desk and went to him and he folded her in his arms and nuzzled her neck as he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to neglect you. There was more work there than I realized and time got away from me." He kissed her lightly and continued. "Would you like to go in the den and watch television? You mentioned wanting to see the movie—"
Karen hugged him and replied, "I'd rather talk. Can we sit down on the couch?"
They cuddled up together at one end of the red velour couch and Shane rubbed his face in Karen's thick brown hair as he said, "Was there something special you wanted to talk about?"
She nodded. "I—I want to talk about us. Shane, I—" She could feel the heat from the flush of embarrassment that was covering her whole body. She started over again. "I don't like the way we're living. I want to get on with our marriage. I—I want to sleep with you." The last sentence sounded breathless and run together.
Shane's arms tightened around her but he was holding back, seeming oddly reluctant. "Karen, I—"
She knew he was going to refuse her again and she couldn't bear it. She cut in quickly before he could go on. "I don't want to wait."
"Neither do I." His voice was husky. "But, believe me, it's best if we do. Now please, for my sake, go away. I promise you that we'll straighten everything out tomorrow."
Karen told herself she should be happy. Shane had said everything would be all right tomorrow, so why did she have this heavy feeling of foreboding? Why couldn't she hold back the sobs that shook her until she finally cried herself to sleep?
She slept late the next morning, after tossing and turning most of the night, and woke with a dull pain in back of her eyes. A glance in the mirror showed them to be red and swollen and her face marked with dry tears. She showered quickly. Afterward she did what she could to repair the damage to her face with makeup.
She poured herself a cup of coffee in the small kitchen on the main floor and Mrs. Whitney told her that Shane had gone, but said he would be back for lunch. She went outside and paced restlessly around the grounds, wondering where Shane had gone and why he hadn't wakened her and taken her with him. Why was she so uneasy? Shane had promised they'd stop this silly pretense of not being married, but he wasn't here. She wished she had someone to talk to. Taffy had been given a couple of weeks vacation after the wedding, but she couldn't have talked to Taffy anyway. She couldn't bear to have anyone know her marriage wasn't a real one, was never intended to be.
Shane returned at twelve-thirty and Karen ran to greet him. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her with a hunger that put all her fears to rest—until she got a look at him. His face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes; his shoulders drooped and he looked exhausted. She gasped and brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead as she asked, "Shane, didn't you go to bed last night?"
He shook his head and, with an arm around her waist, led her into the house. "No, but let's talk about it later. I'm hungry."
They made small talk while Mrs. Whitney served lunch, and Karen noticed that despite Shane's insistence that he was hungry he ate very little. When they'd finished dessert Shane suggested they go into the den, where they could talk. He settled himself in the big leather chair and looked at Karen, her feet tucked under her on the couch.
"Karen, I understand that before your father died you were accepted as a student at Vassar College in New York."
She was puzzled. This wasn't at all what she had expected, but she replied, "Yes. Dad was making the arrangements when his heart— when he had his heart attack."
"You must be very bright. It's quite an honor to be accepted at Vassar."
Karen nodded. "I suppose I am, but I studied hard for
my A's."
"Were you excited about going so far away to school?"
She frowned. "Yes, of course. Shane, why are we talking about Vassar?"
He gripped the arms of his chair, but his voice was calm as he said, "Because I've decided to send you there. I'm going to have our marriage annulled and send you to school."
Karen stiffened. She couldn't possibly have heard what she thought she did. Shane wouldn't send her away—he'd promised! She stared at him with horror as she said, "No! You can't! I won't go! I'm your wife—at least until after we have a baby!"
He leaned forward, still gripping the arms of the chair. "No, Karen. The marriage has never been consummated; there will be no problem about an annulment. It's the only sensible thing to do! I had no business getting you into this in the first place. If you only knew how I loathe myself!"
He put his head in his hands and Karen went to him and put her arms around him. "Shane, don't do this to me; I know what I'm doing. I want to be the mother of your son. Please, Shane, don't send me away!"
He pushed her aside and stood. She watched him, too upset to speak, as he walked to the window and stood with his back to her. "It's all settled, Karen; I spoke to the dean. She says they will still accept you if you get there right away. I've made arrangements for you to fly out of San Francisco the day after tomorrow."
"Shane!" It was a cry of anguish but he went on as though he hadn't heard.
"I'll pay all your expenses and give you a monthly allowance for the next four years or until you graduate."
"But why? Why are you doing this? Just last night you said you wanted me!" She was fighting back tears.
A muffled groan escaped from Shane as he turned to face her. "Of course I want you, Karen! For heaven's sake, I'm a normal healthy male and you're sexy, innocent, and available! That's a combination that would drive any man up the wall, but, damn it, if I take you to bed I'll never get rid of you!"
Temporary Bride Page 9
