He tried again. Nothing.
Oh, the hell with it. Swearing under his breath, at the end of his rope, he finally just looked her in the eye and cut to the chase.
“Bridgie,” he said savagely, “will you marry me?”
Chapter Six
For one starstruck moment, she actually considered it.
Thirty-four years without ever being proposed to, and here was her second proposal within a week.
Out with the senator’s wife. In with reckless lust.
She could marry Tripp Ashby, the romantic figure of her youth. They would make mad, passionate love every day before breakfast, have six or seven lovely, undisciplined babies, become itinerant artsy types and live at the seashore.
Yeah, right. And the Easter Bunny was bringing a basket with her name on it.
How long had she known him? How long had he been blind to the fact that she was more than just a bookish brainiac? A very long time.
Great mysteries of the universe didn’t solve themselves overnight. And Tripp Ashby wasn’t going to wake up and take off the blinders after one little kiss.
And if he did discover her secret— that she had been hot for his body since the age of eighteen—he was more than likely to run from the room screaming. Look at what had happened after he’d merely seen her nightgown! It seemed clear Tripp was uncomfortable with the idea of her as a sex object, in even the most innocent of circumstances. So this proposal was not based on anything as earthy or interesting as that.
Besides, he looked as if he were about to explode. His jaw was held so tightly, she wondered how he could breathe. His hands were clenched into fists, and his whole body was tensed, on edge, ready to boil over or blow up at the slightest provocation.
This was not the look of a man in the heat of undeniable passion. This was a man pushed into a corner.
As he advanced on her, rubbing his hands together nervously, she backed up all the way to the window.
“Will you, Bridgie? Will you marry me?”
She took a deep breath. She looked at him. Tripp, wanting her. How many times had she dreamed of this happening?
“No!” she cried. “I couldn’t possibly!”
“No, of course not.” He began to pace back and forth, wearing a hole in the rug between the bed and the door.
“Tripp, what is wrong with you?”
“It’s not what’s wrong with me,” he muttered. “It’s my mother.”
“Well, that’s no big secret. We know what’s wrong with her. She’s nuts! She’s a vain, stuck-up, elitist—”
“Please, Bridgie, don’t,” he begged. “You don’t understand.”
The haunted look in his eye finally penetrated. “Wait. Are you saying something...something else is wrong with your mother?”
“She’s dying.”
“She’s...? Are you serious? But she can’t be.”
“But she is,” he said, his voice hardly a whisper.
“Oh, come on, this is a joke, right? Another of her tricks?”
“She just came from the Mayo Clinic,” he shot back. “Would she do that on a lark?”
“Well, I guess not, but with your mother—”
“It’s not a trick. When I came back into the room, she was lying down. With her eyes shut.”
“You’re kidding.” That was more serious. Kitty Belle never displayed signs of weakness. She’d rather die than let anyone know she needed to lie down. Bad choice of words, but still...
“She was very pale,” Tripp went on. “Trembling, sweaty. She said she’s been having dizzy spells.”
“So, what is it? Has she seen a doctor? Oh, that’s stupid. Of course she has, if she was at the Mayo Clinic.”
“She didn’t say exactly, but I got the idea it was a brain tumor.” Tripp shook his head. He really looked like he was in shock himself. “I’m supposed to call her doctor and get more information later.”
“Okay, well, that’s a good idea.”
Bridget dropped to the bed. Kitty Belle? It seemed impossible. If anyone was too mean to die, it was Kitty Belle Ashby.
Immediately swamped with guilt, Bridget put a hand up to her mouth. What a horrible thing to think. If Kitty Belle was dying, and Tripp was obviously shook up about it, then Bridget was going to have to be kind and sympathetic.
“Tripp, I’m so sorry,” she managed. Tripp and his mom were always in conflict, but she still knew him well enough to realize that he was very attached to his irascible mother. He might not show it, but his feelings for Kitty Belle ran deep. Awkwardly, Bridget ventured, “I know it’s been just the two of you for a long time.”
“Since my dad died,” he said bleakly. “Right after college.”
“Did she just... I mean, did you just find out?”
He nodded. “She didn’t want to tell me, but she had to, to explain why she was doing all these crazy things to find me a wife. When I think,” he whispered, “when I think of how angry I was, and all the time, she was dealing with this. This terrible news.”
“So she was pushing women at you because she knew she was dying?” What sense did that make?
“Yeah.” He sighed wearily. “She wants to see me settled. She wants to see me married.”
“And that’s why you just proposed to me?”
She’d almost forgotten Tripp’s offer. Almost, but not quite. And she had been foolish enough, for a whole three seconds, to think he was proposing because he’d discovered he was in love with her, or at least in lust with her.
Wrongo. He’d proposed because his mother wanted him married before she shook off this mortal coil.
And Bridget was the only available female when he got the urge. “Any port in a storm,” she whispered.
“What did you say?”
As lightly as she could manage, she offered, “I said it’s too bad that Nina and Miss Ski Pants blew their timing. Just think, one of them could’ve been the lucky girl.”
“Not even for my mother would I ask either of those twits to marry me,” he said flatly.
“I suppose that’s good to hear.” She ranked higher than someone, at any rate.
“Bridgie,” he murmured, in that low, persuasive tone he always used when he wanted something. He joined her on the bed, and he gazed deep into her eyes. “Will you at least consider it? It wouldn’t be real. Just good enough to fool my mother, to give her the one thing she wants most in the world.”
“Tripp, you can’t be serious. A fake wedding? A pretend marriage? The whole idea is immoral, not to mention degrading.” She shook her head firmly, twisting away from him. “Never.”
But he pulled her back around to face him. “Listen—”
“I don’t want to listen! For one thing, I’m already engaged. What do you think Jay would say if I suddenly up and married someone else?”
“But—”
But Bridget had a better argument all ready to go. “Plus there’s your mother. If this whole scheme is for her benefit, you have to consider how she feels about me. Even if I were willing to consider this, which I’m not, I don’t think bringing me into the family would make Kitty Belle’s last days happy ones.” He flinched and she added, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that part about the...you know.”
“Last days. Well, I’m going to have to face it.” He let out a long, sorrowful breath.
Bridget couldn’t help it; she lifted her hand and softly brushed his cheek. He looked so sad.
“I wish I could make it better for you, Tripp.” But a note of panic threaded her words when she insisted, “But there’s no way I can marry you. You, of all people.”
He caught her hand. “I didn’t say we would actually go through with it. I’m just asking for an engagement—a temporary engagement—not a wedding. And your Philpott guy would never even have to know. If my mother only has a few months...” He stopped, gazing down at their intertwined hands. “If she only has a few months left, then we could tell her we were engaged, but there wouldn’t be time for a wedding.�
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“She hates me, Tripp,” Bridget reminded him gently. “She’s not going to want you engaged to me any more than married to me.”
Tripp frowned. “I know she doesn’t approve of you. And I’ll admit, it would be better if your father were a banker instead of a plumber.”
“So—”
“You didn’t let me finish. If she wants me married that badly, she’s going to have to make a few compromises.”
“Are compromises a good idea when it comes to dying wishes?”
He smiled then, and it was so reckless, so beautiful, it took her breath away. He really did know how to flip her switches. “I may be willing to fake an engagement for her sake, but I at least get to pick my own counterfeit fiancée. There is no one I would even consider doing this with—except you.”
“No one except me?” She began to melt a little.
“If you refuse, it’s over,” he said firmly. “No bride for Kitty Belle.”
Still she hesitated.
“Come on, Bridgie. Take a chance. We already know we get along, and we know each other better than anybody. And that will make the whole scheme a lot easier, a lot better. Besides, I trust you,” he said earnestly.
He trusted her? Was he saying he trusted her not to get caught up in the intimacy and forget it was all a fraud? But that was exactly the problem. She didn’t trust herself.
“But I’m a terrible liar,” she told him. “I don’t think I could—”
“You did just fine pretending to be my wife in front of Miss Ski Pants, didn’t you? Same thing exactly.”
“But Jay—”
“We won’t tell him.”
“What if he finds out?”
“He won’t find out.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I’ll make sure. Trust me.”
“But if he did, if the reporters did, it could ruin his campaign,” she protested. “I mean, he won’t even spend the night because he’s afraid he’ll get caught. How’s he going to feel if his fiancée is engaged to someone else, and it gets splashed all over the papers?”
“But it won’t. Why would anyone find out?” He smiled. “This is just for you and me and Kitty Belle. Nobody else.”
“But I won’t know how to act, or what to say. Your mother will know in a minute it’s not real.”
“Oh, come on. You’re already engaged to Philpott. So you have experience at acting like somebody’s fiancée.” He smiled encouragingly. “Just treat me like you would Philpott, and we’ll be fine.”
Bridget almost choked. Treat Tripp like Jay Philpott? What a disaster!
She might as well treat a mountain lion like a house cat and see how far it got her. As a matter of fact, at least a big cat and a little cat appeared to share the same species. She wasn’t all that sure about Tripp and Jay.
For her, Tripp was all reckless passion, all smoke and mirrors. Jay was steady, reliable, a real paragon of virtue. She could push him to the wall and he’d never lose control. But Tripp... What would happen if she kissed him again, or if she told him that in her eyes he was the epitome of hot sex appeal on wheels?
Say something like that to Jay, and he would laugh, amused. But with Tripp... Well, she had a feeling she would feel the heat before the words were out of her mouth.
“I can’t treat you like Jay,” she mumbled.
“I know. Because you don’t feel about me the same way you feel about him. But that’s okay,” he said gently. “I’m prepared to deal with it.”
Oh, brother.
But Tripp was really on a roll, and Bridget felt her objections withering away. She lifted a weak hand to her forehead. He was too good at this, and she was unprepared to fight back.
But who would’ve ever expected to need arguments about why she shouldn’t marry him? Talk about out of the blue!
“How long would this last?” she asked warily. “I mean, I’d have to be sure it would be over well before I needed to campaign for Jay. Otherwise, your mother would see my picture in the papers as his fiancée, and that would look very strange.”
There was a long pause. “She said a few months.” He shook his head. “Only a few months.”
I must be as insane as he is to be considering this. Am I considering this? Oh, God, I am considering this.
“Come on, Bridgie,” he said, with more of his usual infectious charm. “It will be fun. We’ll hang out together for a few months, we’ll let my mother think whatever she wants to think, and once she’s...” He took a deep breath. “Once she’s gone, we can fold up our engagement and put it away, and no one will ever be the wiser.”
She didn’t answer. She was so torn. He made it sound so simple, yet she knew it would be anything but. He made it sound so reasonable, when pretending to be engaged to him was absolutely absurd.
“Would you do it for me?” he asked, and she remembered he was the son of a master manipulator. “I know I have no right to ask you to put your life on hold for a few months, just for the sake of our friendship. But I hope you’ll do it, Bridgie. For me. And for my mother. I know she’s not your favorite person, but even Kitty Belle deserves a last wish.”
Bridget nodded. Deep down, she knew she couldn’t let his mother die unhappy if there was something within her power to make it better. But this was such a big favor....
In the secret, selfish reaches of her heart, she knew she had another reason for considering his offer. If she said no, he might be forced to look up one of those other women who were so eager to lasso him. Sure, he said he’d only do it with her, but who believed that?
When someone as antimarriage as Tripp began to look for a bride, things had to be desperate. Who knew what he would be reduced to?
If Tripp was going to be spending long hours in someone’s company, pretending to be in love, she couldn’t stand the idea that it would be some brainless rich girl. If it was going to be anyone, she decided it had damn well better be her.
Besides, there was also the matter of one last, reckless flirtation with irresponsibility before she married Jay and settled down to a life of being perfect. One last time, she could throw caution to the winds and do something outrageous. It didn’t hurt that she’d get to do it with Tripp, either.
“Okay,” she said quickly.
“Okay? So you’re saying yes?”
“Yes. I’m saying yes.”
“You won’t regret this,” he promised. He pulled her over and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth.
A quick kiss. And already her senses started to reel. Already, she was ready to panic.
Backing off considerably, trying to breathe, Bridget put a finger to his lips. “I said yes. For now. For fake. And that’s it.”
“Of course.” He gave her another mischievous grin as he offered a hand to help her to her feet. “So, are you feeling brave enough to share the happy news with Kitty Belle?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that.”
“Oh, and Bridgie?”
“Yes?”
“Could you take off Philpott’s ring? If you’re going to be engaged to me now, you probably shouldn’t be wearing his ring.”
Wordlessly, with a curious sense of relief, Bridget slipped Jay’s ring off her finger and wedged it deep into her pocket.
* * *
“NO, I SIMPLY WON’T hear of it!”
“You don’t have a choice, Mother.”
Kitty Belle moaned and Kitty Belle whined. She tried fireworks and waterworks, but Tripp remained firm.
“I love Bridget,” he said quietly. “We discovered about a year ago that our friendship had turned into something a little more serious, and we’ve been together ever since.” He flashed her a quick, encouraging wink, telling her to go along with the story he was making up on the spur of the moment. “We would’ve gotten married anyway, eventually.”
He was really a very good liar. Hearing him spout this sentimental, plausible story, Bridget had to fight to remind herself it was just a fa
iry tale.
And the cozy way they were sitting on the nubby sofa in the living room, with his arm casually draped around her shoulders, their hands clasped in her lap, they really did look like the kids next door, popping in to tell Mom and Dad the good news.
Except it was all a lie, and Bridget already felt the mammoth hands of guilt pressing down on her shoulders.
“You might as well get used to it, Mother—Bridget is the only woman I’ve ever felt this way about, and she’s the only woman I will ever consider marrying.”
“But why didn’t I know the two of you were involved?” Kitty Belle demanded. “You’ve always insisted you were just friends. Why, just a few moments ago, she was swearing there was no hanky-panky going on!”
“Well, of course she said that. What do you think she’s going to say?” Tripp asked, his brows drawn together darkly.
“But why didn’t you tell me?” his mother persisted.
“I asked him not to,” Bridget improvised. “It was my idea.”
In her ear, Tripp whispered, “I told you you were a natural at this.”
Oh, great. Her talent for lying was getting as polished as his.
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, just to put on a good show of tenderness between them.
“And why did you want him to keep this involvement a secret?” Kitty Belle asked.
Under her prospective mother-in-law’s disdainful eye, Bridget explained, “Well, it was obvious to both of us that you wouldn’t approve—of Tripp and me, I mean—and I didn’t want to cause any disharmony in the family. So I asked Tripp not to tell you that we had, um, gotten together.”
“I see,” Mrs. Ashby murmured. “But now you’re perfectly willing to cause disharmony, is that it?”
“Mother, please. This is what you wanted.” Bending forward, closer to Kitty Belle’s chair, he started to launch his persuasive powers in her direction for a change. “You said your fondest wish was that I find someone I love and get married. Well, I’m doing exactly that. Bridget and I are willing to set up the timetable a bit, and announce our engagement now, to defer to your wishes. Can’t you be happy you’re getting what you want?”
Once Upon a Honeymoon (Harlequin American Romance) Page 8
