Impossible Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  “I’m thinking the draperies will hide it.” What was he supposed to say? He figured she expected something, but he’d be damned if he knew what it was. The room had looked fine the way it was. No one ever used it. He gave dinners at the restaurant, where the staff could prepare them. Angela had hated cooking.

  Maya aimed her paintbrush at his nose but didn’t close in for the kill. “You’re supposed to say it makes the room a hundred percent more cheerful. I’ll send the draperies out for cleaning, but I don’t see any reason to hang them again. It could be a wonderful room with all this sunlight.”

  Grateful she hadn’t chosen enormous red dragons for ornamentation, Axell eyed the huge windows skeptically. “You won’t have any privacy.”

  Maya dropped her brush in the paint can ,and wiping her hands off on her overalls, crossed the room and looked up at him. He’d known she wasn’t large, but without her big belly in front of her, she was almost delicate. Still, her head reached past his shoulders, and she wasn’t afraid to tap his jaw with her long fingers. He liked the contact with those long, slender-paint-splattered-fingers.

  “You have an acre of lawn and a field of trees out there. How much privacy do you need? Lighten up, Holm. You’ve got kids who will want to play out in that enormous yard. Do you want to watch them play, or eat by candlelight? Or are we changing our minds?” she asked tauntingly.

  Her voice shivered up and down his spine as much as her touch. He saw the challenge in her turquoise eyes, and he glared back. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re pushing the boundaries, seeing how far you can go before I break.”

  Axell’s composure snapped as Maya’s long lashes blinked in disconcertion. The day had been long and frustrating. He deserved a little compensation for his patience. Digging his hands into the wild tangle of Maya’s curls, Axell cupped her head and prevented her from looking away. The power of that touch torched a wildfire in his blood, but for the sake of the children, he corralled it.

  “I’m not breaking, Maya Alyssum,” he whispered so the kids couldn’t hear. “Paint posies on the ceiling if you like. Fly kites from the roof. But two months from now, I’ll have you in my bed. Want to redecorate it first?”

  And then he did what he’d been longing do since the last time. He kissed her.

  ***

  December, 1945

  Helen sent me a frightening letter today. I think she must have been in her cups when she sent it, but I’ve never seen her drink enough to say such things. I’m worried about her. I need to get her away from that bar and her evil companions. If we married, I could support her, but not in the style of the Arnolds, or even in the style in which she lives now. The old man has promised me a management position, but I’d be lucky to have a job if I marry Helen. I could look elsewhere, but without the backing of a wealthy family, I’d be fortunate to earn as much as Helen’s bartender. She’d hate me for taking her away from the bright lights and music.

  I’ll hate myself if I don’t.

  Twenty

  Mind like a steel trap — rusty and illegal in 37 states

  The house was dark when Axell drove into the garage. Even for a Friday night, he was unusually late. Katherine’s resignation hadn’t helped. He’d had to handle host duties while hastily training one of the waitresses for the job. He didn’t know what he’d do for an assistant manager. Hire a man, he figured glumly. Women were too unpredictable.

  He veered toward the family room to turn off the table lamp and paused at the sight of Maya curled up on the couch, wrapped in the throw as usual, her hair spilling over the edges like part of the tapestry. Axell thought her asleep until he entered the room, and she stared up at him with wide, fathomless eyes. It was those eyes that had held him captive from the first. Like the ocean, they held mysteries that would take a lifetime to explore.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked warily. With Maya, he knew better than to expect a simple explanation.

  She set aside a paperback with a single rose on the front and wiped her eyes. She’d been crying over a novel, and he wondered if it was one of Angela’s romance books.

  “You don’t have to marry me just to have sex,” she announced, but her voice was whispery and not at all as firm as she probably would have liked.

  Dropping his briefcase, Axell collapsed on the sofa beside her. “Why not just hit me upside the head with a bat when I come in?”

  She sniffed, and he handed her his handkerchief.

  Rubbing her nose, she attempted a glare. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in violence.”

  Axell’s shoulders shook with laughter. He couldn’t believe he was laughing after a day like this. He wanted to howl and roll on the floor, but she’d probably think him insane. Besides, he’d wake the kids. Chuckling anew at the thought of the chaos that could ensue, he shook his head.

  “What’s so funny about that?” she demanded.

  “Passivity.” He bit back another chuckle and leaned his head against the sofa. It was kind of nice sitting here in the semi-dark, hearing a human voice instead of the dead emptiness he’d lived through these last few years. “Pacifists are rarely passive, or even peaceful.” He turned his head and sought her face in the dim glow of the lamp. His unholy curiosity inspired his next question. “Are you saying you’d go to bed with me without marriage?”

  She glowered and tucked the handkerchief somewhere in her lap. She was wearing the lacy blue nightgown Selene had given her, but the cotton throw covered most of it. He’d have to buy her a regular robe. Something green to go with that glorious sunburst of red hair. And a gown to match. Something short and seductive.

  “As if you have to ask,” she sniffed. “You probably have women waiting in line.”

  A surge of lust shot Axell’s already aroused hormones into overdrive. He really did want to howl over her jealousy, but the chuckles died in his throat. He looked back over the lonely nights of the past two years, the few furtive couplings, the awkward undressings and whispered questions, and he wondered why the hell he’d bothered at all. His laughter emerged more as a curt bark. “Not so I’ve noticed.”

  “Well, there’s your problem. You don’t notice.” She sounded more sure of herself now. “You walk right by women as if they’re hat racks. You don’t pick up on signals.”

  His chuckle was a little more real this time. She looked like an outraged gypsy princess wrapped in that shawllike thing with the light illuminating her hair. His gaze fastened on her slender, unadorned fingers. Rings. He’d have to buy rings. He looked up and caught her fascinated gaze. Fascinated. By him. That shot another lightning bolt straight to his groin. He’d need a lap robe of his own.

  Something in her narrowing gaze warned this wasn’t the time to shrug off her observations, and it was definitely not the time to indulge in Playboy fantasies. A challenge, he remembered. Dealing with Maya would be a challenge.

  “I don’t want to have to pick up on signals,” he answered carefully. “I want to know precisely where I stand without interpreting sign language.”

  She cocked her head like a little bird, studied him carefully, then broke into her beaming gypsy smile. “You’re marrying me because I have a mouth and use it?”

  His gaze dropped to strawberry-luscious lips and he nodded without thinking. “I sure hope so.”

  She laughed with clear bell-like chimes that took on a note of wickedness as she finally understood the direction of his tired mind. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek, then boldly, she licked his ear.

  His flagpole shot straight up.

  “You don’t need marriage, you just need a teacher,” she whispered tauntingly.

  Before Axell could grab her, she twisted away and stood up, leaving him with a handful of cotton throw.

  “I’ve found the teacher,” he threw after her departing sway. “I’m just waiting for the lessons.”

  She shot him an upraised-eyebrow look over her shoulder before disappearing into the darkness of the hall.

  A
xell remained lying there against the sofa cushions with the cotton throw over his pleasantly throbbing lap and a smile on his face. Definitely a challenge, he decided.

  He could spend the next two months planning her seduction. That should certainly give him an incentive to survive the chaos.

  ***

  “I was managing,” Maya whispered as Axell grasped her elbow and nearly dragged her out of the church pew after the Sunday service. He’d trapped her into this, damn the man. The instant they’d applied for a marriage license, the whole town heard about it. He’d known she wouldn’t fight the whole town.

  “So was I,” Axell agreed, steering her determinedly toward the church office. “But ‘managing’ isn’t the same as living. What are you afraid of?” he demanded. “We’re two intelligent adults perfectly capable of rationally talking out any problems. When the kids get older, if it isn’t working out, we can get divorced. What do you have to lose?”

  He said that so firmly and logically, Maya couldn’t help but stare at him with incredulity. She wanted to ask him what the hell kind of household he’d grown up in. She met only curiosity and a glimmer of impatience in his square-jawed expression as he waited for her to follow him. She wondered what he would do if she licked that delicious cleft in his chin or blew in his perfectly symmetrical ears, and bit back a nervous giggle at the thought. He really had absolutely no idea of the devastation the emotional tornado of divorce could wreak. To him, it was just a tactical retreat.

  His gray gaze heated as she bit back her disbelieving smirk. All right, so under that logical Virgo mind lurked a boiling cauldron of Scorpio testosterone — she’d got his birthdate from the marriage license and drawn his chart. Definitely Scorpio moon. So, maybe dark, brooding, artistic men didn’t have a corner on heat. Maybe security was more rational than love. Maybe she’d just gone without sex too long.

  Maya dropped her gaze to Axell’s deliriously amazing chest. His shirt was so freshly laundered, she could smell the starch. He wore a three-piece gray suit elegant enough to be a tuxedo. She brushed an imaginary speck from his lapel and straightened his white carnation and absorbed his intoxicating presence. He might be stiff, but he definitely wasn’t cold.

  His question, “What do you have to lose?” still hung in the air. She knew the answer — her heart. Her stupid, illogical, breakable heart.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she sighed. And he really wouldn’t. She was just a means to an end for him. Men understood possession and convenience, but they really didn’t grasp the frailty of female emotion. So, this man was more careful than most. What more could she ask?

  “You really can’t fix my life, Axell,” she offered in one final protest before he dragged her back to the waiting preacher and made everything final. “It isn’t broken.”

  “Mine is,” he whispered.

  She shouldn’t feel his pain, but she did. He had everything she’d never had, he merely wanted to add her to his collection, but that broken plea wiped out all argument.

  Surrendering, she followed the familiar path of the current rather than fighting against it. “All right, let’s get this over. The kids will be bouncing off the walls by now.”

  Axell cast her an uncertain look, then offered his hand. He didn’t know how to take her lack of enthusiasm for their marriage. He’d walked Maya all through fashionable SouthPark Mall yesterday, offering her any gown she’d like for the wedding.

  Instead of excitedly running up his credit cards, she’d spurned all the designer dresses and silk suits and lavish accessories in favor of a simple cream eyelet summer gown from the White House. Admittedly, the fitted bodice and long, flowing skirt looked elegant on her newly slender figure, but it had cost nothing in comparison to what he’d been prepared to pay.

  Above the scoop-necked gown, Maya wore her thick frizzy curls pinned into an unruly twist. Despite the simple elegance, the soft tendrils spilling down her nape and ears aroused the image of a woman who had just climbed from a tumble in bed, producing an uncomfortable urge Axell couldn’t assuage for weeks.

  Firmly clasping Maya’s fingers, he led her toward the preacher’s office and the small gathering of friends and family waiting for them. They’d both agreed on a small ceremony. At least they’d found common ground in that.

  He didn’t like admitting it, but he was as nervous as she was. He knew her credentials as a teacher, had watched her at work and knew she was an ideal mother. He’d spent the better part of his life honing his people observation skills, and he didn’t doubt his instincts. Maya Alyssum was a free spirit completely alien to his nature, but she possessed the pure goodness of heart of a child. He was the villain in this piece.

  He was terrified he would destroy her, or that she would leave and destroy him.

  Axell shoved his intended bride toward the preacher’s office.

  This time, it would be different. This time, only his head was involved.

  ***

  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Maya held her breath as Axell slid the delicately braided gold band on the third finger of her left hand. They’d chosen the rings when they’d bought her gown. Axell’s ring was thicker and more imposing, but they’d both admired the identical gold braiding. She’d wanted no diamonds, no ludicrously expensive platinum, nothing extravagant, but she’d still been appalled at the cost of the simple bands. Axell hadn’t blinked an eyelash.

  The ring fit solidly on her finger, its weight a reminder of all the responsibilities she assumed with the vows she repeated now. Constance in her shining patent leather, frilled anklets, and rapidly deteriorating curls stood solemnly to one side of Axell. Matty bounced at Selene’s side. Garbed in an extravagantly silly lace and eyelet gown that neither of them could resist, Alexa squirmed sleepily in the arms of a motherly Sunday-school teacher who had turned out to be an aunt of Axell’s. Maya hadn’t even considered the possibility of her husband having relatives.

  Her husband. He stood there in the sophisticated gray of his three-piece suit, his shoulders no less rugged for their civilized confines. Her heart dived to her stomach as the preacher pronounced them man and wife, and she made the mistake of meeting Axell’s gaze. He wore that solemn businessman’s expression she knew so well, but she could swear she could see the impish gleam of professorial curiosity lurking behind his eyes as he leaned over to claim his kiss.

  Matty emitted “Ooo, yuck” sounds and Constance abandoned her pretense of obedience to leap between them, yet Axell located Maya’s mouth with unerring accuracy, and the explosive shock of his kiss shot clear to her toes before Constance succeeded in pushing them apart.

  “Can I hold Alexa now, can I?” she demanded.

  Maya could read the amusement dancing in Axell’s eyes as he silently handed the responsibility of answering to her. She didn’t know whether to smack him for his abdication of duty or love him for trusting her with his daughter.

  “I think there are people waiting for us in the reception hall,” Maya told her gently, taking Constance’s hand. “Don’t you want some cake and punch first?”

  Satisfied that she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do — separate the two most important adults in her life and focus their attention on her — Constance nodded, loosening a few more limp strands of hair.

  Maya tucked a curl behind her stepdaughter’s ear and glanced at Axell to see how he took this. He offered a masculine shrug of indifference, but she could see something smoldering behind his eyes that warned it wouldn’t always be this simple. He was a patient man, but every man had his limits.

  Well, he wanted her to mother his daughter. Now he had what he wanted — let’s see how he liked it.

  Smiling as their small audience surged forward to offer congratulations, Maya hung onto Constance as Axell grabbed Matty. Gradually, they pushed their way out of the office and into the reception hall.

  For the first time in her life, Maya felt the spotlight of an entire community’s attention focused on her as
she and Axell entered the room.

  She would have panicked and run if Axell hadn’t firmly draped his arm across her shoulders and held her at his side, introducing her to one and all as his wife.

  When she stumbled in her low-heeled sandals, Axell held her steady.

  As the crush of the crowd pressed around them and her heart steadied to an hysterical tattoo, Maya felt the ironclad shackles of Axell’s control lock around her, and she finally grasped the term “ball and chain.”

  She’d sworn to provide her daughter a real home. Now she had one, and the walls were already closing in on her.

  Did she have any idea what happened to a fish out of water?

  Twenty-one

  We are Microsoft. Resistance is Futile. You Will Be Assimilated.

  “If you’ll sign these papers, my lawyer will start work on your adoption of Constance.” Axell shoved another sheet of paper across the broad expanse of his desk. “If you think you can get your sister’s agreement, this one will begin proceedings for you to assume legal guardianship of Matty. Once that’s done, he’ll no longer be a ward of the state, and Social Services will have no more control over him.”

  Maya stared in dismay at the stack of papers collecting on Axell’s desk as he pushed still another legal document in front of her.

  “Here’s the partnership agreement for The Curiosity Shoppe. I’ve had it drawn up between us and your sister, since the inventory is hers, and as a married couple, we’re assuming joint responsibility. I think the threat of a lawsuit will have the building released by next week.”

  They’d been married for almost three weeks but they still lived together as they had before — Axell as the man in charge and she as his hapless female boarder — with a few exceptions. She now had a checkbook and credit card in her new name and drove a BMW that terrified her. While Cleo’s shop was closed, Maya had her teenage clerk polishing the car after school every day as part of her store duties. She didn’t dare do so much as chew a piece of gum in its spotless leather interior.