by Laurie Paige
“Nowhere,” the boy answered.
“How’d you get there?”
“Thumbed.”
“Did you have supper?”
A shake of the head, eyes on the television, was the answer.
Since they had a year of living under the same roof ahead of them, he’d try to be friendly about it. “Maggie left a stew. Let’s have some while we watch the rest of the game. Isa’s sleeping. Looks like she’s out for the night.”
Rick wondered about his sister but didn’t ask. He followed his brother-in-law into the kitchen and readied himself for the lecture about keeping his nose clean and not causing any trouble—or else. Grown-ups repeated the same advice over and over. They didn’t know any- thing.
He loaded up the plate Harrison gave him. They re- turned to the ball game in the den. It felt odd, just him and a guy, eating and commenting on the plays, no lecture, no scowl of disapproval.
It made him uneasy, this palling around with an older person—Isa didn’t count; she’d always been there—yet he liked it. When Harrison listened to his comments on the game, it gave him a funny feeling…like his opinion was worth something.
When the game was over, Harrison went to check on Isa. Rick hung around, not sure what to do.
He had a suspicion his sister had married because of him. He suddenly wanted it to last. This was the best home they’d ever had. He went to his room feeling scared but hopeful.
Isa woke fully alert. She knew at once whose body cupped hers, whose strong, hairy leg nestled so inti- mately against the back of her thigh, whose arm rested across her middle. She scooted to the far side of the bed.
Harrison stirred and opened his eyes. He returned her stare without smiling or speaking.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, panic rising in her like bubbles in boiling water.
“I thought I had a standing invitation.” He gave her a sexy once-over, then raised his eyebrows slightly as if questioning her memory.
She recalled telling him, rather arrogantly, that he could come to her if he must. She also remembered his reply. “You said you wouldn’t…you didn’t need…that you…” She knew very well what he’d demanded from her, but she’d thought he’d changed his mind and meant to ignore her.
“I said you’d ask.” His voice dropped to a deep, husky register that stroked her senses like velvet. “You will.”
The panic subsided as indignation rose. “That’ll be the day.” She held herself very still.
“Mmm-hmm.”
He stroked along her torso with a gliding motion. Ripples of sensation ran through her. He moved closer, turning her, then he was looming over her, his thigh pressed between both of hers, his big, hard body half covering her.
His warmth spread through her, inciting longing. She gazed up at him, face composed while a riot took place in her blood.
“You are a wonder,” he murmured, in a tone that was half admiring. Then he proceeded to ravish her.
He kissed her unmoving lips for long, tender mo- ments before chuckling and moving on. He nibbled on her earlobe while he stroked around the rim of the other ear with his fingertip. Letting his fingers coast down- ward, he skimmed along the surface of her throat, light- ing fires wherever he touched.
Isa’s eyelids drifted closed. It was so tempting to re- lax and let him have his way… to let herself be seduced. She knew the passion he could incite in her, how beau- tiful it would be to share those hot caresses with him until they both exploded….
No.
She forced her eyes open. She had to keep her wits about her. “It’s time to get up.”
“It is?” He touched the lace of her slip and stroked along the sensitive skin there.
“I’m in my slip,” she said, confused by this fact.
“You slept all yesterday afternoon. All night, too.” he added, leaning down to let his lips replace his finger.
Her breasts beaded into hard points. She couldn’t hide the reaction. The tiny sun flared deep inside her, and golden lava ran through her veins as he continued to touch her.
“All night?” She glanced toward the window. The slant of the sun told her it was indeed morning. “Rick—”
“In his room.”
She tried to think. “I slept all through his first night here? That’s terrible. I’ve got to—”
He kissed her into silence. “You don’t have to do anything but relax. It’s early yet, only six.”
Against her thigh, she felt the insistent throb of his body. Her own traitorous pulse raced wildly. She un- derstood, on some deep, instinctive level, the bond that sexual satisfaction created. If they made love, it would be harder to leave when the time came. No entangle- ments, that was the rule.
His hand on her leg made her start.
“Easy,” he soothed in a deep, masculine purr.
She held very still as he caressed her knee and her thigh, almost to the apex of her legs. He moved back to her knee. She nearly groaned, whether in frustration or relief, she didn’t know. It was unnerving.
He glided upward again, pushing her slip out of his way as he went. When it was bunched above her briefs, he swung over her, settling lightly between her legs, claiming his place as husband and all the rights that entailed.
She trembled, unable to hide her reaction.
A lazy smile flicked across his lips.
“It’s only my body,” she stated, needing some- thing—anything—as a defense against the way he made her feel. She had to be tough and ruthless. She couldn’t afford softness.
His expression cooled, although his eyes didn’t. “That’s all I want.”
She squeezed her eyes tight, determined not to re- spond to his blatant sexual play. When she drew a deep breath, it fluttered in her throat, giving her away.
A tug on the strap of her slip and bra had her holding her breath. Cool air flowed over the newly exposed flesh as he slowly peeled the material from her until her breast was exposed.
“Beautiful,” he said, so husky and deep, it stirred an answering need in her, despite her resolve.
She clutched the sheet in desperation as his lips did their magic, gliding lower and lower until he gathered the tip of her breast into the hot interior of his mouth and sucked gently.
A moan tore out of her throat. She put her hands against him, wanting, needing to push him away, but the will wasn’t there. Instead, she allowed her hands to rest against his chest, then she pushed her fingers through the wiry hairs, aware only of the tactile feel of his male body through every contact of her skin on his. She discovered that he wore briefs and that only two layers of cotton separated them from total contact.
“What are you doing?” she heard herself ask. She really wanted to know why.
“Making love to my wife.” He spoke against her breast, the stir of his breath cool over her damp nipple. When he raised his head, his eyes were filled with hun- ger. He didn’t try to hide or deny his need for her. “Any objections?”
She wondered if he was trying to provoke an argu- ment. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Neither would she renege on her word. “No.”
A flicker of surprise darted through his eyes. He gave a grunt of satisfaction, then began moving in gentle strokes against her. She went slowly out of her mind.
When he kissed the corner of her mouth, she turned to him, unable to forego the pleasure she knew awaited her in his hands.
The kiss was wildly erotic from the start, a meeting of lips and tongue and teeth, an exploration of all the possible nuances of passion shared in this way. It wasn’t quite completion but it was wonderful. And it fired the desire for total melding.
When she thought she could stand it no longer, he broke the kiss. “Do you want more?”
She blinked up at him. Disappointment hit her. He was trying to get the upper hand, to control her, but she wouldn’t play those games. Life was too serious. “I won’t beg,” she told him. “Never.”
His smile was slow. Light gl
eamed in his eyes, taunt- ing her with the desire she couldn’t deny. “Do you want more?”
“Do you?” she challenged, barely able to keep her wits.
He studied her for a long minute. It was insulting. “I want a hell of a lot more, dear wife, but I don’t think I’m going to get it, at least not today.”
With this strange explanation, he pushed himself up- right on one elbow as if to move away. His gaze swept over her. He lingered to run a fingertip over her breast again, watching as the nipple contracted predictably.
Anger, with herself for not being able to resist him, with him for making her respond, surged within her.
“I’m not a child to be swayed by physical appetites,” she told him even as she shivered in anticipation.
“No,” he agreed, “you’re not a child.” He paused and listened for a second. “I think your brother is up. We’d better have a family meeting and decide what to do about him.” He rose in one smooth movement and climbed out of bed, leaving her chilled without his body heat surrounding her.
She pulled the blanket to her chin. “He has to be enrolled in school. I checked. There’s still six weeks to go before it’s out for the summer.”
“He’ll be a sophomore this fall?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have an idea.” He stepped into a pair of shorts, fastened them, then slipped into a T-shirt. “Let’s have breakfast, then we’ll talk.”
“About Rick?”
Harrison paused at the door. “And other things,” he promised, a decisive set to his mouth.
She wondered what he had in mind while she show- ered and dressed. She hurried to the kitchen after smoothing on a light coating of moisturizer and makeup.
Rick was eating a bowl of cereal at the breakfast bar. Harrison leaned against the counter in Maggie’s usual place, a mug of coffee in his hand. Isa greeted them both.
“Good morning. You look lovely,” Harrison com- mented.
Rick didn’t say anything.
“Doesn’t your sister look lovely, Rick?”
Rick glanced up. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. The only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the wall clock and the munch of cereal as the teenager continued eating.
Isa tensed for a scene as Harrison’s eyes narrowed while he watched her brother finish the meal and shove the bowl aside.
“Around here, we put our dishes in the dishwasher when we finish,” he remarked. His gaze flicked to her. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Rick got up, shuffled around the counter in a pair of flip-flops and stuck his bowl and spoon inside the dish- washer. He picked up a glass from the sink and put it away, too, then he went to his room.
The edgy moment passed. Isa relaxed while she had toast and a glass of orange juice.
Harrison glanced at the clock. “I have a conference call at nine. Do you need help in getting Rick registered for classes?”
“No. I can handle it. Mrs. Addleson, the social worker,” she added at his blank look, “will be coming over this week to see how things are going.”
The tension bubbled while he considered this. “Will it be a surprise visit?”
“I don’t know. She said she’d see us this week.”
“I’ll probably be working late several nights. You can call me if she shows up.”
Isa nodded. He’d hardly been at the house at all dur- ing the two weeks of their marriage. She’d often felt she’d lived most of her life alone, yet she hadn’t real- ized how empty a house could be until she’d rattled around in this one, alone for hours on end. It was odd to miss a husband who didn’t want her.
“I’ll stop by your office at noon,” he added. “My attorney has some papers for us to sign.”
“All right.”
He watched her while she sipped her coffee, then blotted her lips on a napkin before he put his mug in the dishwasher and left the room. A minute later, she heard the growl of his car’s engine when he backed out of the garage.
She checked the clock. “Time to go,” she yelled down the hallway. No answer. “Rick, it’s time to go.”
He sauntered out of his room. “I’m not going. I’ve decided to quit school.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’ll get a job—”
“You’re too young to quit school,” she reminded him. “You have to go. It’s part of your parole.”
“I’m not on parole.” He gave her a fierce frown.
“You heard what the judge said. For the next year, you’re in a sort of trial period. You have to go to school.”
His thin face took on a mutinous cast, but he didn’t argue.
“Are you going to wear that?” she asked.
He had on ragged jeans and a black T-shirt. “Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.”
He was silent on the ride to the school. Isa didn’t force him into conversation. She remembered what it had felt like—changing schools every couple of years to follow her father’s schemes. Life had been hard.
“You’ll need lunch money,” she said when they parked at the high school. She dug into her purse and gave him twenty dollars. “That should cover supplies, too. I’ve already arranged for your books. The office will have them.”
“Yeah, sure.” He swung out of the car. “I can go in by myself. You don’t have to baby-sit me.”
She hesitated, not sure if she could trust him, then felt guilty for the thought. If she didn’t show her con- fidence in his honesty, then who would?
“Okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “The center is three blocks down this street. I’ll give you a lift home.”
“I’ll be okay,” he muttered. He slammed the door and sauntered off before she could question him further.
Worried, she backed out of the parking space and headed for her office. Really, she had nothing to worry about. She’d signed all the school papers a week ago to enroll Rick in classes. The counselor understood his cir- cumstances and knew to call the community center if anything happened.
Not that anything would. This would be a turning point in their lives. When he settled in, Rick would do well here. He’d be happy and well-adjusted and all those things she wanted so desperately for him. Life would be good from now on. She’d see to it.
On this optimistic note, she entered the office well before ten and worked on the bills and usual problems that cropped up during the day. The program director, the only paid person on staff besides her, stopped by at noon.
“We need better equipment,” Sidney told her.
“There’s no money.”
He frowned in disgust. “Throw a fund-raiser. Hey, I hear you’re married to one of our benefactors. Ask him.”
She resented his cavalier attitude. “Harrison already pays half the mortgage on the building. If you think you can get more out of him, you ask. I won’t.”
Sidney shrugged. His gaze became speculative. “You two had a rather rushed wedding, didn’t you?”’ His eyes skimmed down her body, making her uncomfortable.
“No. It was exactly what we planned,” a male voice answered before she could.
Jerking around, she spied Harrison leaning negli- gently against the door frame, his suit jacket draped over his shoulder, his tie loose and his collar open. He held a white paper bag.
“Lunch,” he announced. His frigid glance at the di- rector dismissed the man.
Sidney, perched on the corner of the old desk, got to his feet. With a nod to her, he walked out.
Harrison moved into the room to let the other man pass. “The center in financial trouble?”
“Always.” She sighed wearily. “That’s been my main job—find ways to keep it going.”
“Why wouldn’t you agree to ask me?” He set the bag on her desk, hooked a straight chair with his toe and yanked it closer so he could sit beside her.
“You already do enough.” She clamped her lips to- gether. Defending him wasn’t part of the job descrip- tion. “Besides, I didn’t think you
had any extra money to invest in a surefire losing proposition.”
“I don’t,” he said frankly. “You should have told him you plan to keep the money in the family. For you and your brother.”
Her mouth gaped at this flat statement. “That’s not true. I only want what’s due us. Nothing more.”
“A home for a year, then an annulment, right?”
“Yes.”
“And half the mine earnings, assuming it has any by then?” He filled a paper plate with Chinese food and started eating. He raised his eyebrows when she didn’t follow suit.
“I want what rightfully belongs to my family, noth- ing else. I am not a fortune hunter.”
“Sorry. A misjudgment on my part, I’m sure. It hap- pens when a man is blackmailed into marriage.”
His smile was so icy, she shivered. Well, she could hardly expect him to think well of her. Only time would prove she was an honorable person. Sort of.
“My attorney prepared some papers.” He took them out of his jacket pocket and handed them to her. “I’ve already signed.”
She opened them and started reading. “These are a…a prenuptial agreement.”
“Postnuptial, actually.”
“What is the agreement?”
“That at the end of a year, you leave without further claims on me or my assets.”
She sighed with relief. He was going to give her the year. That was all she needed. She grabbed a pen and flipped to the back page.
“You might want to read over the asset lists. I wasn’t sure exactly what yours were.”
His eyes raked down her, pausing at strategic points, while he continued to eat calmly.
Keeping her face perfectly blank, she read over the contract and signed it without arguing. In essence, she’d agreed to leave with what she’d brought into the mar- riage.
She handed the document to him. His eyes searched hers as if suspecting a trick.
“No argument?” he asked. “No addendum or chal- lenges?”
“No, I think you got it about right.” Her assets were her clothing and her six-year-old car. She couldn’t help but grin. “Five thousand dollars might even be stretch- ing my net worth by a thousand or two.”
