by Laurie Paige
This wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. She rubbed her forehead and tried to think.
He took a step toward the door. “Marriage my way or not at all. Which will it be?”
“You can’t possibly want to…to…”
“You have no idea what I want,” he told her, his tone so soft it frightened her. “I didn’t plan on inher- iting a failing silver mine when my father died last year, but that’s what I got. I didn’t plan on a forced marriage, but it looks like that’s what I’ll have to take.” He looked at his watch. “Make up your mind, sweetheart. Time, as the poets like to say, is a-flying.”
His smile was hard, but he wouldn’t hurt her, not in any physical sense. He might make life miserable for a year, but it hadn’t been wonderful in ages, so that didn’t matter.
“Okay,” she agreed.
“To everything?”
Her throat closed. She nodded.
“Then hurry. You have five minutes to prepare for a wedding.” After giving her one more cutting glance, he went down the stairs, presumably heading for the library to inform Ken of the change in plans.
Isa fell back against the door. Married. He’d agreed. They were getting married.
She clutched both hands against her chest. Only one thought came to mind. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The bong of a clock somewhere in the house re- minded her of time’s passage. She leapt over the crum- pled sheets on the floor—heavens, what had Ken thought upon seeing the bedroom in a mess and Har- rison and her standing lip-to-lip, without moving?
Looking through her mussed clothing, she realized there was one thing she hadn’t thought of during her mad scheming. She hadn’t bought a wedding dress.
Chapter Four
The wedding chapel was next to the lake.
“You may choose whichever view you prefer,” the justice of the peace, an older man who was hastily slip- ping into a suit jacket, told Isa. This decision was clearly within the purview of the bride in his estimation.
The chapel was on the upper level of the building. One plate-glass window framed a picture-perfect scene of Lake Tahoe with snowy mountain peaks in the dis- tance. The window in the adjacent wall gave a view of lofty mountains covered in snow-crested evergreens perched against a backdrop of sapphire sky. A bit of lake was visible in the right corner of the window.
The justice’s wife smiled benignly from the bench in front of an electronic organ. Live music was twenty- five dollars extra, she explained, looking their clothing over to ferret out a clue to how much money they might spend. “Shall I play for you?”
“Oh, yes, by all means, let’s shoot the works,” Har- rison agreed before Isa could refuse.
The plump wife perked right up at Harrison’s sar- donic remark. The next thing Isa knew a bridal nosegay of pink sweetheart roses and white baby’s breath was thrust into her hand. Only fifty dollars.
Harrison bought it. The matronly woman looked re- gretfully at Harrison and Ken’s casual clothing and the boutonnieres in the handy refrigerated display case.
Isa had chosen her black slacks and white silk blouse with the gold belt and earrings for her wedding outfit. The two men were in jeans and shirts with sweaters.
“We have wedding rings,” the wife said, “in case you haven’t had time to shop for them.”
“This was rather a sudden decision, wasn’t it, dar- ling?” Harrison gave her a squeeze and a wink that had her gritting her teeth to keep from telling him to pack it in. “Yes, let’s look at the rings.”
When he’d picked one for her from a large selection in a jeweler’s case, she chose one for him, too.
“Look,” she said, pointing out the discreet sign. “The second ring is half price when you buy two at the same time.”
“Wonderful, darling,” he agreed warmly. “I want the world to know I’m a married man.”
She nearly choked at the tender look he gave her. Ken looked amazed. In fact, he’d worn a bemused ex- pression all morning, as if wondering if he was going to wake up soon. She could identify with the feeling.
Harrison was the epitome of the happy-go-lucky groom. And she was certainly the nervous bride. The nosegay shook like a field of wildflowers in a gale. In her left hand, she clutched the wedding band for her groom.
“Don’t be nervous, darling,” Harrison leaned close to say. “I’ll make a marvelous husband—tender and sensitive and all the things you modern women want.”
The justice’s wife nearly swooned at his feet. Isa gave the woman a heated glare, then turned it on her groom, who gave her an innocent-as-a-shorn-lamb smile.
She wasn’t sure who was getting fleeced here.
“We have champagne, already chilled,” the wife sang out, bustling around the chapel and setting out the extra flower baskets…only two hundred dollars.
“We don’t have time,” Harrison said with a world of regret in his richly melodic voice.
There was also no time for Isa to further protest the unnecessary expenses. The justice picked up his little black book and opened it. He cleared his throat loudly.
Isa faced the lake and kept her eyes riveted on the far mountains as he began the ceremony in a rumbling monotone.
This was only for a year. She could stand anything for a year. During the ritual, she repeated the words of wisdom that had gotten her this far in her scheme.
There was nothing Harrison could do in a year that would make her give up, she vowed. One year, then she and Rick could move to some small town where no one would know them and start their lives over with a clean slate.
“I do,” she answered almost gaily when the justice paused in his reading and looked at her.
“I do faithfully promise,” the justice repeated.
She hadn’t realized she was supposed to repeat the vows. “I do faithfully pr—” The word snagged in her throat. She swallowed hard. This wasn’t a real promise, she reminded herself. “I do faithfully promise….”
Harrison repeated his vows without a hitch.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the justice intoned.
“Good,” Harrison said grimly, all signs of his feigned cheer gone. He glanced at his watch. “Let’s get out of here. The plane will be landing in fifteen minutes.”
“But wait,” the justice cried.
Three sets of eyes glared at him.
“You…ah…forgot to kiss the bride.”
A beat of silence passed, then Harrison turned toward her. “So I did,” he said. He grabbed her wrist and reeled her in like a fish on the end of a line.
For a second, she resisted. Then, at the narrowing of his eyes, she realized what she was doing. Foregoing the useless struggle, she assumed a radiant smile. “Oh, yes, darling, the kiss,” she murmured and pulled his head down to hers.
Somehow he kept turning the tables on her and gain- ing the upper hand. If she was going to endure, she had to take control. She would show him he couldn’t man- handle her. She plastered herself aggressively to him.
Her lips tingled at the first touch, then sizzled as his mouth covered hers. He gave her a lover’s kiss that burned clear down to her toes. She couldn’t breathe…or think….
His tongue stroked her lips, then delved inside as she opened to him, unable to stop the response. His hands roamed her back but stayed respectfully above her waist.
An uncontrollable tremor raced through her.
For a second his arms tightened convulsively, then he released her. She swayed dizzily. He held her shoul- ders until she regained her balance. Confused, she could only stare up at him, not sure what had happened in those few seconds.
A shower of flower petals hit her in the face. The, plump wife tossed them into the air and romped around like one of those nymphs dressed in billowy veils that appeared in old paintings Isa had seen in museums. Ken and the justice were smiling broadly.
“Now let’s get the documents signed,” the justice suggested.
With a shaky scrawl,
Isa signed her name to the mar- riage certificate that would be registered with the State of Nevada that very day.
“Let’s go,” her groom said, a grim expression in his eyes, taking charge once more.
Harrison drove them to the airport, Ken in the back seat and Isa in the front. She clenched her hands to- gether. The unfamiliar gold circle on her third finger, left hand, bit into her flesh. She stared at the ring as if she’d never seen one before.
Married He’d probably strangle her before the year was up. Especially when she made one more demand of him—to continue his act as the loving groom until the judge released her brother into her care.
They arrived at the tiny airport only minutes before the private plane set down on the tarmac. Two men climbed out—the pilot, a man in his thirties, she esti- mated, and… “He is an old codger,” she said, surprised into speaking.
Zeke Merry looked like a prospector just returning to civilization after months in the desert. He wore old boots, baggy jeans, a frayed shirt and a sheepskin jacket that should have been put out to pasture years ago.
“Don’t let his looks fool you,” Ken told her. “He’s as cagey as they come. And a stickler for high morals. He wouldn’t have approved of you being at the cabin alone with Harrison.”
She wondered if the old man would approve of their rushed marriage. Harrison introduced Ken to the tycoon, then looped an arm around her waist. “And this is Isa.” He gave a hard-edged smile. “My wife.”
The watery blue eyes in the wrinkled parchment face zoomed in on her. Isa smiled pleasantly and squirmed under the intent regard of the old man.
Or was it the feel of Harrison’s fingers lightly ca- ressing her along her waist that had her suddenly rest- less?
“Wife, eh? I don’t recall you being married,” Zeke stated.
“It was fairly recent,” Harrison inserted smoothly. “We’re still on our honeymoon.”
Isa stared in stunned surprise as the old codger clouded up. Tears actually formed in his eyes.
“I’m glad to hear it. Marriage steadies a fellow,” he said, nodding his head wisely. “A man oughtn’t to be alone. I still miss my Abby and she’s been gone fifteen years or more.”
Isa guessed his age to be in the seventies or eighties. It was hard to tell. He was one of those people who looked as if he’d been born old and time hadn’t im- proved his looks.
“I’m glad to meet you,” she said politely, and held out a hand.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her close enough to buss her on the cheek and offer some advice. “You - keep that man of yours in line. Women got more sense than men any day of the week.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Isa glanced at Harrison. “You didn’t tell me Mr. Merry was a philosopher, dar- ling, and a brilliant one at that.”
“Call me Zeke.” He pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch. “It’s nigh past my lunch hour, and my stomach’s rattling like a set of bones in a cup. Where can we eat around here?”
“I’ve made reservations. Is your pilot joining us?”
“No, thanks, I’m going to check out the plane,” the pilot said. “There’s a hum I don’t like.” He nodded and left them.
“Cole don’t cotton much to people,” Zeke said sadly as if this was a personal loss.
“What happened to him?” Isa asked. She watched the pilot’s solitary figure head for the greasy-spoon res- taurant in the airport. He had the aura of a loner who trusted few people.
“His daddy was killed when he was a tyke, then his ma lit out with another man when he was fourteen.”
“Did she leave him with relatives?”
“Nah, she left him on his own.”
Isa’s heart went out to the man. She’d been so wor- ried about holding the family together and raising her brother when her mother had died. It had been an enor- mous responsibility.
“Our reservations are for one,” Harrison broke in. His arm tightened around her, pulling her solidly against him.
When she glanced up in question, she saw a glitter of emotion in his eyes, then it was gone. She tried to figure out what it had been. She knew he was still angry with her over the marriage, but this had been directed at the pilot.
Could it have been…? No, surely not. Harrison wouldn’t be jealous, especially not of her.
Zeke insisted she ride in front with her new husband. He rode in the back with Ken and talked nonstop about the changes in the area since he’d last been there. “Back a few years, it was,” he reminisced over a lunch of barbecued spareribs. “I came to visit a widow, but it didn’t work out. Her kids didn’t approve.”
Isa licked the sauce off her fingers. This was her wedding luncheon, she realized. She nearly laughed. Her best friend, who lived in California now, would appre- ciate the irony.
They had decided as teenagers to marry rich men, have beautiful children and live next door to each other. Neither of them had gotten all three wishes, although Carly seemed happy with her tall, silent rancher and his son.
While the men talked of world affairs, then the base- ball season, her thoughts remained stubbornly rooted in the dreams she’d once had. Nine years ago, nothing had seemed impossible; now everything did….
Harrison laid a penny beside her plate.
She felt her color rise as she glanced around the table. The three men were watching her with various expres- sions on their faces. Zeke acted the irascible old man, but his eyes were kind.
Ken was worried, probably about the future of the company.
Isa turned to her husband. His expression was amused, but his eyes still smoldered. It would take only a spark to rekindle his earlier fury at being tricked into marriage.
He laid another penny beside the first.
Put on the spot, she had to say something. “I was thinking of children…of my brother,” she amended. “I’ll be glad to see him again.”
“Where is he?” Zeke asked
“He’s at a juvenile detention center in Oregon.” She might as well tell the whole of it. Harrison would find out soon enough. “He was arrested in connection with a warehouse theft.”
“You ought to take a broomstick to him,” was Zeke’s advice.
She locked her hands together in her lap, remembering the past. “My father used his belt. It only made Rick more determined to defy him.”
“Did he use it on you, too?” Harrison asked in a peculiar tone of voice. His eyes glittered with emotions she couldn’t define.
“No.” She smiled defiantly. “I learned early not to talk back. Men don’t like to be told what they’re doing wrong.”
“Especially by their women.” Harrison laid his hand over hers. He rubbed her knuckles until she relaxed her grip. When she moved her hands apart, he took his hand away. “Ready to go?”
She nodded.
They left the restaurant and returned to the mountain house. Zeke was assigned to the bedroom with the pri- vate bath, the one that had been hers.
Staring at the closed door after the old man had dis- appeared inside, she wondered what the night would bring. Would Harrison really expect all the rights of marriage?
Tingles rushed over her. Her heart pounded very fast. To her dismay, she couldn’t decide if her nervous qualms were from fear or anticipation.
“See you in the study in half an hour,” he said to Ken.
Ken nodded and went into his room. The door closed behind him without a sound. All Isa could hear was the rapid beat of her heart.
“I had your things moved to my room while we were gone,” Harrison explained with a casual wave of his hand toward the closed door. “My neighbor,” he added by way of explanation.
“The one who takes care of things for you?”
“Yeah. I asked her to come over and make up the guest room. She tidied up the place, too.”
“I think—”
“We’ll talk later. There isn’t time now.”
Harrison took her arm and ushered her across the sky bridge and into the m
aster bedroom. He gave the door a shove, a much gentler one than he would have liked. It closed with a smooth click of the latch behind them.
His bride faced him with that artfully blank expres- sion. If she was scared of him and the consequences of her acts, she wasn’t showing it.
A hint of admiration warred with the anger that gripped him. Yeah, she had courage. He’d concede that. Too bad she was a lying, conniving witch to go with it.
Forget it. This wasn’t the time to hash over the vir- tues of his newly acquired wife. He had more urgent problems.
“Right now I need those reports and the contract. How soon can you produce them?”
She walked over to the king-size bed and reached under the mattress. She withdrew the documents and handed them to him with a little flourish.
“I have to hand it to you—you have talent and imag- ination,” he murmured. “Intelligence, too. I’d never have thought of looking there.”
“That’s what I counted on.”
“But then, blackmail was far from my mind at the time,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
She had the grace to turn away. He watched her walk to the French doors leading to the hot tub. Tall and lithe, she walked like a jungle cat on the prowl.
Yeah, and he was the hunk of meat she’d caught.
He shuffled through the papers. All there. “I’ve ar- ranged for dinner to be catered at seven. We should be through with the meeting by five. Can you entertain yourself until then?”
“Yes.”
He reached for the door, then paused with his hand on the knob. “I’ll need to know everything and every- one involved in your brother’s case. If you’ll write it down, I’ll give the info to my attorney and have him see what he can do when we get back to Reno tomor- row.”
“I…thank-you,” she said softly.
She didn’t turn to him. A sudden need to see her expression made him cross the room. When he stopped beside her, he still wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
Her gaze slid up to his, then away.
He clasped her chin and held her face up to his. Then, slowly and deliberately, he bent and kissed her. Her mouth formed a perfect rosebud of surprise.
