The Seduction of His Wife

by Janet Chapman

  “He’s not even real,” Sarah ground out. “He’s a figment of some demented woman’s imagination.”

  Alex headed down the hall. “She certainly seems to know something about men.”

  “Hey!” Sarah yelped, just now realizing where he’d carried her. “I am not moving into your room.”

  He stopped beside the bed. “Why not?”

  “Why—because it will confuse Delaney and Tucker, that’s why,” she said, wiggling to make him set her down.

  He held her firmly against him. “You’re the only one who’s confused, Sarah. We’re married, we’re having a baby together, and you like being in my bed. So what’s the problem?”

  “You’re the problem! You’re assuming I’m going to move in with you just because we slept together.”

  “I don’t remember getting much sleep last night,” he said with a wicked grin. “In fact, I think I need to go to bed myself,” he added, kissing her in a way that said he was anything but tired.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  S arah spent the next eight days worrying about which was going to give out first, her sanity or the clothes washer. The Knights were running a marathon of engine replacement and retrofitting, and she’d been trying to feed them and keep them clean with the use of only one hand. The men came into supper each night covered in grease from head to toe, their fingers wrapped in Band-Aids, and their eyelids drooping with fatigue. Even Tucker helped, heading out to the machine shed immediately after school to hand them tools. Delaney, bless her heart, was a great help to Sarah, especially when it came to moving Sarah’s stuff up to Alex’s bedroom. The girl had been positively beaming as she’d lugged clothes and toiletries upstairs.

  The only point Sarah had won in the last eight days was a promise from all the men that they wouldn’t tell the kids about the new baby. She wasn’t even seven weeks pregnant, and things could still go wrong in the first trimester.

  “You and Daddy should have a real wedding,” Delaney said as she opened the oven door to peek at the brownies she was baking. “Was your wedding to Mr. Banks fancy?”

  “No. It was just Roland and his mom and a justice of the peace,” Sarah told her. “But Alex and I don’t need a wedding, sweetie. Our proxy marriage is legal as long as no one says anything.”

  Delaney turned with her hands on her hips and frowned. “But you need a real wedding,” she argued. “It’s the last one you’re going to have, and I want to be in it and wear a long dress and flowers in my hair. I can be your maid of honor.”

  Delaney walked over to the table and picked up one of the carrots Sarah had peeled. She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “You’re driving Dad nuts, you know. Don’t you want to stay married to him? You’re sleeping with him.”

  This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to move into Alex’s bedroom, Sarah thought with a sigh. “Has that boy at school tried to kiss you again?” she asked.

  Delaney’s face turned bright red. “Daddy told you.”

  Sarah nodded. “So if you woke up tomorrow morning and found out you were married to this boy, how would you feel?”

  “Grossed out,” Delaney immediately answered. “But Daddy’s nice. He doesn’t smell like a wet dog, and he’s handsome and strong and smart.”

  “Okay, then suppose you woke up tomorrow and found yourself married to a handsome, strong, smart, nice-smelling boy who also happened to be a complete stranger. Would that make it okay?”

  “Well…no,” Delaney said with a frown. She shook her head. “But Daddy’s not a stranger to you anymore. And if you’re sleeping with him, that means you must like him.”

  Sarah reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Delaney’s ear. “I do like your daddy,” she admitted. “But I’ve only known him seven weeks.” She cupped her palm over Delaney’s cheek. “Sometimes when men want to get a girl’s interest, they mask their true personalities to make a good impression. I’m not saying your daddy’s one of those men; I’m just saying that I was hurt pretty bad once, and it’s going to take longer than seven weeks for me to get over it.”

  “Are you talking about your first husband?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “But if he took off his mask after you were married, why didn’t you just leave him?”

  “It’s complicated,” Sarah said, positioning another carrot in the three usable fingers on her right hand so she could peel it with her left. “I didn’t have anyplace to go, and no money even if there had been relatives I could run to.” She stopped peeling and smiled. “That’s part of why I fell in love with you and Tucker. I’ve always wanted to be part of a big family.”

  Delaney smiled back. “And now you are. You’ve got us and Daddy, and Ethan and Paul and Gramps, and you’ve got a new baby on the way.”

  Sarah stopped peeling again.

  Delaney smiled. “I know what morning sickness is.”

  “Please don’t say anything to Tucker,” Sarah pleaded. “There’s enough craziness going on around here without adding my pregnancy to the mix.”

  Delaney held up her hand with three fingers pointed at the ceiling. “Scout’s promise,” she said. “I’m old enough to babysit, and I’m willing to share my room with the baby.” She suddenly frowned. “But what about your camps? How will you run them with a new baby?”

  “I’ll hire help.” Sarah gave her a crooked smile. “You ever think about working at a sporting camp?”

  “I can do that,” Delaney said, straightening her shoulders. “If the pay’s good.”

  “I pay top dollar for good workers. The girl helping me on Crag Island was only thirteen years old. You remember meeting Karen last August, don’t you?”

  “She was kind of shy. I tried to get her to explore the tidal pools with me, but she said she had to get home right after she got done with work.”

  “Karen comes from a large, very poor family. She’s the youngest of six kids, and she’s always been intimidated by the children who stayed at my inn, because she thought they were rich and…and more worldly than she was. I know how she felt, because I felt the same way when I was growing up,” Sarah softly confessed as she started peeling again.

  “And that’s why you came here to live with us—because you figured our woods would be just as safe as your island.”

  Sarah gaped at Delaney. From the mouths of babes, as they say. Was that why she had come here? Was she really afraid of venturing into the big world, as Alex had suggested?

  The buzzer on the stove told them the brownies were done, heavy footsteps came tramping through the door like stampeding cattle, and Sarah blinked wildly to fight back tears as she vigorously started peeling again. Dammit, she hadn’t been fooling anyone but herself. There obviously wasn’t one feisty, confident bone in her body.

  “We’re not here for supper,” Alex said, giving her a cold and likely greasy kiss on the cheek. “We’re done with the delimber and the older skidder, so now we’re heading over to get the tree harvester from Porter. We’ll be back in two hours, three tops.”

  “I’m going with them,” Tucker said, snatching a carrot off the table and biting into it. “I’m the radio man on the wide-load truck. It’s my job to watch out for mailboxes, so they don’t get flattened by the rear wheels of the trailer.”

  “Make sure you do a good job then,” Sarah said, rubbing a smudge of grease off his face. “Because I’m betting your daddy will dock your pay for every mailbox that gets flattened.”

  Tucker swung to face his father. “Will you?”

  Alex nodded, his expression serious. “One dollar a box. You and Delaney okay here alone?” he asked. “We should be home just after dark. We have to be off the main roads by sunset.”

  “Then get going,” Sarah told him, giving him a shove when he stole one of her carrots. “We’ll be fine.”

  “We’re taking your SUV, but the plow truck is here if you need it.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, shoving him again. She looked at Ethan and Paul stan
ding by the door, holding steaming brownies in their hands. Grady was by the sink, popping pieces of raw turnip into his mouth. “If you don’t all get out of here, there won’t be anything left for supper.”

  Every male in the room scrambled out the door except Alex. He bent close to her ear and whispered, “You better not fall asleep on me tonight. We’re just getting to the good part of our novel, where Duncan is sneaking Willow out of the house to take her on the schooner so he can get her alone.” He darted a glance to see that Delaney was busy in the pantry, kissed Sarah on the lips, and whispered, “I’m learning a trick or two from Duncan.”

  Sarah shoved him away again, and Alex finally left, his laughter trailing behind him as she stared at the swaying curtains on the back door. That was another battle she’d lost, and for the last seven nights she’d had to lie in bed beside Alex and listen to him read Willow Foster and Duncan Ross’s story out loud. Sarah figured her cheeks were permanently stained from blushing so much.

  Tuesday morning arrived with a cold, wind-driven snow, and Sarah was glad the sun wasn’t shining, since her eyes were still sensitive to bright light. She could see quite well now, since she was putting on the salve herself instead of letting Alex administer it in globs. As for morning sickness, well, some mornings she woke up fine, and sometimes she barely made it to the bathroom in time.

  She felt pretty good this morning as she lounged in bed and watched Alex dress. The guy wasn’t at all shy about parading around their bedroom naked. In fact, Sarah suspected he did it on purpose.

  She had tried parading around naked herself a few mornings ago just to tease him but had found herself right back in bed when Alex had jumped up and started making love to her before they’d even hit the sheets. Everyone had been sitting at the kitchen table, eating cold cereal and looking sorry for themselves, when she and Alex had finally made it downstairs half an hour later.

  “You’re not dressing for work,” Sarah said when she saw Alex slip into the silk undershirt he usually wore for ice fishing.

  He turned to face her as he pulled on silk long-john bottoms. “Ethan’s leaving for Loon Cove Lumber today, and Grady and Paul don’t need me to help the crew clean up at our old cutting. So I thought I’d take a little hike up that trail on Whistler’s Mountain before we move our equipment over there tomorrow.”

  Sarah sat up, holding the blankets to her naked chest. “Why? I thought that trail didn’t lead anywhere.”

  “I saw a map at your sporting lodge that showed caves up there.” He turned to rummage through his sock drawer. “I just want to check them out and see if there’s been any traffic on that trail.”

  “Alone?”

  He turned with his socks in his hand. “It only takes one person to look around.”

  “Daniel Reed should be that person. Or someone from the border patrol.”

  Alex walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed so he could brush her hair off her face. “I’ll stay out of trouble, Sunshine. If I find anything up there that doesn’t look right, I promise I’ll come straight home and call John and Daniel. But things have been pretty quiet around here lately, and there’s a good chance the bad guys have moved on since they haven’t been successful shutting us down.”

  “I still don’t like it. And why not take one of the snowmobiles?”

  “Too noisy,” he said. “Snowshoes are quiet and just as quick when the terrain is rugged.”

  “Ethan can go to Loon Cove tomorrow. Take him with you.”

  Alex bent over and pulled on his socks. “I’m not giving Ethan any excuses to avoid going to Loon Cove.” He straightened, leaned back on one elbow, and tugged on her hair. “You’re sounding very wifely this morning. Careful, Sunshine, or I might think you’ve finally decided to accept my marriage proposal but just forgot to tell me.”

  Sarah rolled out of bed, grabbed her nightgown off the floor where it had landed last night, and kept her back to him as she slipped it over her head. She heard him sigh and walk around the bed just before he took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  “Just tell me what you’re afraid of, so I can fix it.”

  “I’m not a piece of equipment you can fix. I have to fix myself.”

  “But fix what? What’s keeping you from taking that final step?”

  “Twelve years of conditioning can’t be erased in seven weeks.”

  “Ah,” he murmured, gently folding her into his arms. “Then if it takes another twelve years, I’ll wait. As long as you stay here and give me a chance to compete with your demons.”

  Sarah slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his silk shirt. “My hero,” she said with a sigh.

  Alex kissed her breathless, lifting her off her feet and carrying her over to the bed. Sarah rolled away the minute her back touched the sheets and scrambled off the opposite side. “Oh, no you don’t,” she said, pointing at him. “We will not be late for breakfast again. I couldn’t stop blushing all morning the last time.”

  He puffed out his chest. “We heroes like making our women blush.”

  Sarah grabbed the romance novel on the nightstand and threw it at him. He caught it in midair and turned it faceup, thumbing through it until he came to a dog-eared page. “He captured her hands, gently pinning them over her head as he leaned back and looked down at her so fiercely, Willow stopped breathing. His dark emerald gaze—”

  “You marked the sex scenes!” Sarah yelped, rushing over and swiping the book out of his hands. “You pervert,” she snapped, opening their bedroom door and heading down the hall, the sound of Alex’s laughter following her into the bathroom.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  T wo hours later, the snow had stopped, but the wind continued to howl down from the threatening sky. The house felt unusually empty, and Sarah felt unusually edgy, to the point that she hadn’t answered the phone both times it had rung. Worried about Alex, she was in no mood to talk to anyone, much less deal with brokers trying to find the last skidder engine and truck motor.

  There wasn’t anything worth watching on all one hundred and fifty satellite channels, and every country-western video that came on was too damn maudlin. Sarah finally sat down on the couch with her sewing scissors and started snipping off the bandage on her right hand. Surely she could remove most of the gauze around the two metal splints in a way that would let her use her fingers for more than propping up stuff.

  The phone rang again, but Sarah ignored it and kept snipping, again letting the answering machine pick up. She heard Grady’s message, silence, a click, and then the dial tone, just like the first two times. “Get a phone book and look up the right number,” she told whoever had hung up as she continued to snip.

  It took her twenty minutes, but Sarah was finally satisfied. She held up her right hand and opened and closed her thumb and first two fingers, thankful that it was her ring and pinky fingers she’d broken. Now she could do some real sewing.

  When she heard some snowmobiles pulling into the dooryard, she frowned. They must be lost. She walked into the kitchen but stopped when she saw three men pulling off their helmets as they climbed off three snowmobiles.

  Two of them were the men who had chased her through the woods! Sarah looked at the doorknob and noticed the door wasn’t locked. She ducked down, scurried over, and twisted the dead bolt. Staying bent over, she headed back through the great-room door, turning to stop it from swinging just as the men stomped onto the back porch.

  “I called three times,” she heard someone say, the voice muted through the two doors. “No one’s home, I tell you.”

  “I’m still checking the place out,” another voice said.

  Sarah heard the doorknob rattling, first softly, then violently, and decided that pretending no one was home might be wise. She grabbed the portable phone and ran up the stairs. She rushed into her and Alex’s bedroom but froze when she heard wood splintering and the back door crashing open.

  Sarah dropped to the floor and slid under
the bed. She tugged the quilt down to hide her and hoped they would quickly find what they wanted and leave.

  Something crashed downstairs. “Jesus, we’re not here to loot the place,” a menacing voice said almost directly beneath her, which told Sarah they were in the kitchen. Then she heard the swinging door snap back on its hinges and bang into a chair, followed by heavy footsteps in the great room. Something else fell to the floor with a dull thud, and then Sarah heard someone walking up the stairs.

  Don’t panic. Don’t panic, she told herself, trying to dial 911, only to realize there wasn’t a dial tone. That must have been the phone’s base she’d heard crashing to the floor when they’d ripped it out of the jack. Sarah sucked in her breath when she saw a pair of boots walk past her bedroom door. She heard the boots go into Tucker’s room and then Delaney’s, and she felt like throwing up.

  “Come on!” someone shouted from the foot of the stairs. “The place is empty. We need to get out of here.”

  But the man continued to work his way methodically back down the hall, going into every bedroom and even the bathroom, opening and closing doors, before finally walking into Sarah’s bedroom. Not even daring to breathe, she waited for what seemed like forever while he looked in her closet before finally walking back into the hall. Sarah closed her eyes and balled her hands to control her trembling. She’d almost hidden in that closet!

  “We can at least take a couple of these guns,” she heard someone call out from Grady’s office. “Some look expensive.”

  Glass shattered in the office, and the man searching Ethan’s bedroom ran down the stairs. Sarah’s stomach lurched when the floor beneath her shook with his heavy footsteps.

  “Grab what you can carry on the sleds, and let’s get out of here,” one of the men shouted, sounding as if he was running from the kitchen into the great room. “It’s gonna move fast through this old relic. We’ll go out the front and leave the door open to feed it.”