“Why would anyone fight like that?” she asked during a commercial break.
“Ten million might have something to do with it.”
“Ten million dollars?” Hannah was incredulous. Standing, she looked around for something else to do. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. The evening paper was on the floor next to Riley’s chair. She picked it up and read through it.
“Would you like to go to church with me tomorrow?” she invited.
“No.” His eyes didn’t stray from the screen.
She set the paper aside and yawned.
“Go ahead and go to bed. I’ll wake you when I come in.”
Hannah was skeptical, but the fight was only in the sixth round and it looked as if it could continue for a good long while. “You don’t mind?”
“Not in the least,” he answered, and waved her toward the bedroom.
Hannah found an extra blanket in the hall closet and wrapped that around herself as she lay on top of Riley’s bed. It would have been presumptuous of her to crawl beneath the covers when she fully intended to sleep in the living room after Riley had finished with his program.
Although she was exhausted, Hannah had a difficult time falling asleep. What an unusual day she’d had. She’d married a man who was little more than a stranger to her, and discovered in the short time they’d spent alone that he was easy enough to like. She sincerely doubted that she’d ever grow to love him the way she had Jerry, but then Jerry had been a special man. It wasn’t likely that she’d ever find anyone like him.
Riley was rough around the edges; she couldn’t deny that. He drank beer as though it were soda and enjoyed disgusting displays of violence. Yet he’d gone out of his way to see to it that she had a wonderful wedding dinner. He appeared to be trying.
She smiled at the memory of how he’d hauled her into his arms and carried her over the threshold, then immediately frowned when she recalled the way he’d looked at her in her nightgown and announced that Junior would be an only child.
With a determined effort, Hannah closed her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, but lying in bed was a hundred times more appealing than being subjected to the boxing match.
Hannah stirred, feeling warm and comfortable. Her arm was wrapped around a pillow, although now that she thought about it, this particular pillow was anything but soft. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found a pair of intense eyes staring back at her. She blinked, certain she was seeing things.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“The question, my dear wife, is what are you doing clinging to me as if you never intend on letting me go?”
Hannah immediately removed her arm and bolted upright. To her surprise, she was beneath the covers. “How’d you do that?” she asked, noticing at the same moment that he wasn’t.
“Do what?” Riley asked with a yawn. He sat up and stretched his hands high above his head and growled as though he were an injured bear stalking the woods. The sound was so fierce it was all Hannah could do not to cover her ears.
“You said you’d wake me,” she reminded him, not the least pleased with this turn of events.
“I tried.”
“Obviously you didn’t try hard enough.” Primly, she tossed aside the covers and leaped out of bed. “You had no right…We agreed—”
“Hold on a minute, sweetheart, if you’re—”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. Ever.” She hated the way he said it. Jerry had always spoken it with such tenderness and love, and she wouldn’t have this man who was her husband desecrate the few precious memories she had of her fiancé.
“All right,” Riley said, holding up his palms. “There’s no reason to get bent out of shape. For your information, I did try to wake you, but it was obvious you were in a deep sleep. It was either haul you into the living room or leave you be. I chose the latter.”
Hannah glared at him. She’d risen quickly and neither the baby nor her stomach appreciated the abrupt change of position.
“Hannah, you’re looking pale. Are you all right?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied. The all-too-familiar sensation was taking root in the pit of her stomach. Her brow broke out in a cold sweat and her knees grew weak.
“There’s no reason to be so upset,” Riley continued, undaunted. “I did the gentlemanly thing and slept on top of the covers. Our skin never touched, I promise you.” He paused. “Hannah…”
She didn’t hear whatever he intended to say. With her hand over her mouth, she rushed down the hallway, making it to the toilet just in time to empty her stomach.
Riley helped her to her feet when she’d finished, and gently wiped her face with a damp cloth. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Damn, if I’d known you were going to get sick, I’d have slept on the sofa myself. I’ll tell you what—you can take the bed and I’ll camp out there until we move.”
He was so gentle, so concerned. Hannah raised her fingertips to his cheek and offered him a feeble smile. “My being sick didn’t have anything to do with being upset. It’s the baby.”
He was silent for a moment. “How often does this happen?”
“It’s better now than the first few months.”
“How often?” he repeated firmly.
“Every morning in the beginning, but only once or twice a week now.”
“I see.” He released his hold on her and handed her the washcloth. “In that case, forget what I just said. If you want to sleep on the sofa, be my guest.”
Chapter Four
“Hannah!” Riley bellowed as he walked inside the apartment. He startled her so much she nearly dropped the box she was carting. “How many times do I have to tell you, you aren’t to lift anything?”
“But, Riley,” she protested lamely, “this one isn’t the least bit heavy.”
“I don’t care. Your job is to stay out of the way. Once we’re into the other house you can start unpacking. If I see you touch a single one of those boxes again, I’m going to lock you out on the balcony. Is that understood?”
It was understood three apartments over, Hannah was sure. Riley had been surly all morning. He’d left before dawn to pick up the rental truck and returned in time to find her hauling boxes from the kitchen into the living room. She was only trying to help, and he’d made it sound as if she should be arrested.
They’d been married a week now, and if these past seven days were any indication of how their lives would blend together, Hannah wasn’t sure they’d last the month. Riley seemed to be under the impression that she was one of his men—someone he could order about at will.
With so much to be done before the move, it was ridiculous that he expected her to do nothing.
The afternoon he’d returned to find a neatly organized row of packed boxes stacked in the corner had resulted in a tirade that had left Hannah shaken and pale. No one had ever stormed at her the way Riley did. He seemed to think she should laze around sampling bonbons while watching daytime television.
He regretted his outburst later and offered an abrupt apology, but by then it had been too late; Hannah could barely tolerate looking at him. She escaped into the bedroom and closed the door.
If only he wasn’t so unreasonable. He didn’t want her cleaning for fear the solvents would harm her or the baby. Nor did he want her painting, although he was often up till the early hours of the morning. In the evenings when he returned from the base, he wouldn’t even take time to eat the meals Hannah had so carefully prepared. Generally he grabbed a few bites on the run while she sat at the table, napkin in her lap, determined to ignore him as he shouted warnings at her about doing this or that.
The doorbell chimed, and Riley took the box from her arms, set it aside and answered the front door. Three men of varying sizes and shapes casually strolled inside. The first was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, the two others in football jerseys and sweatpants. The trio paused just inside the door when they noticed Hannah.
Riley stepped over to her and looped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side. “Hannah, this is Steve, Don and Burt,” he said, nodding toward each one. “They’re my friends. Guys, this is my wife, Hannah.”
“Your wife?” the tallest of the three echoed, obviously stunned.
“My wife,” Riley repeated brusquely. “Do you have a problem with that, Steve?”
“None.” Riley’s friend glanced apologetically toward Hannah. “It’s just that good friends are generally invited to the wedding, if you know what I mean.”
The one in the University of Miami sweatshirt rubbed the side of his jaw as he blatantly stared at Hannah. “Is this the gal you spent all that time—”
“Are you going to stand around here all morning gawking, or are you going to help us move?” Riley demanded, lifting a box and shoving it into Don’s arms.
Don let out a loud grunt as the box was shoved against his chest, then cast the others a rueful grin before carrying it out the front door to the waiting van.
The four soon formed a small caravan, carting furniture and boxes. Within less than a half hour, everything in the kitchen and living room was neatly tucked inside the moving van.
In the bustle of activity, Hannah was left to her own devices. Before she misplaced her purse, she carried that down the stairs along with a bag of cleaning supplies and set them on the floor of the truck, locking the door. As she stepped away, she heard Burt murmur something to Riley about a woman named Judy. The short, stocky man who wore a Seahawk football jersey number twelve seemed concerned and abruptly stopped speaking when he noticed Hannah.
Riley turned and frowned, as though anxious she might have heard something he’d prefer she didn’t.
“You weren’t carrying anything, were you?” he demanded when the silence seemed as loud as thunder.
“My purse,” she returned softly, and hurried up the stairs, pressing herself against the railing halfway up when Don and Steve walked past her, each holding one end of the mattress. As soon as they were safely past, she rushed up the steps, pondering what she’d overheard.
Judy.
From the way Burt and Riley behaved, it was apparent they hadn’t wanted her to hear. Their reaction led her to only one conclusion: Riley had been involved with the mystery woman. The fact he was married had certainly come as a surprise to the very men he’d labeled his friends.
So Riley had a woman friend; it shouldn’t come as any surprise. He was a virile man, and not once had she believed he’d lived the life of a hermit.
A weary feeling came over her when Hannah entered the apartment. Naturally Riley wouldn’t tell his friends about their marriage. No man would want to admit, even to the best of friends, that he’d been forced into marriage. Hannah swallowed at the growing lump in her throat. She’d been a fool not to realize Riley would be involved with someone else. Not only had her night of folly wreaked havoc in her own life, it had disrupted several others as well. Recriminations pounded at her like tiny hammers, and she sucked in a giant breath as she battled with her renewed sense of guilt.
Brushing the hair away from her face, Hannah walked over to the sliding-glass door that led to the balcony. Several long-legged cranes walked along the pebbled beach, their thin necks bobbing as they sauntered along the edge of the shallow water. Hannah folded her arms around her middle as she stiffened her spine. It had been Riley’s choice to marry her, she recalled. He’d insisted. She might have been able to dissuade her father from this marriage, but when Riley concurred, Hannah had agreed, too weak to battle the pair of them. Riley had chosen to marry her of his own free will, whatever his reasons, and despite the fact that he was currently involved with someone else.
Judy. Hannah was shocked by the hard fist of resentment that struck her as she mentally repeated the other woman’s name. Recognizing she was being utterly unreasonable didn’t help. It wasn’t as though her marriage was a great love match. Riley had never led her to believe it would be. No doubt he’d been with any number of women over the years.
The four men walked into the apartment, diverting her attention for the moment. Riley paused when he found her in the kitchen. His blue eyes searched her as if to read her thoughts, and when she offered him a weak smile, he seemed genuinely relieved.
Doing her best to stay out of the men’s way, Hannah did what she could to help the loading go as smoothly as possible. Generally, this consisted of directing traffic and answering minor questions.
It amazed her how smoothly everything was going. She’d assumed it would take most of the day to move, but the four men worked well as a team and handled the burdensome task with an economy of effort.
When the apartment was nearly empty, Hannah moved into the bedroom to push some boxes into the center of the room. She wanted to do something, anything other than stand idle. Never in her life had she stood by, wasting time while watching others work. It went against the very grain of her personality, and she deeply resented it now.
“Hannah!”
“I’m only trying to help,” she cried. “You’re treating me like an old woman.”
“I’m treating you like a pregnant woman,” he countered sharply, gripping her by the shoulders. Despite the anger in his voice, his touch was light. Hannah raised her gaze to his, and when their eyes met, something warm and delicate passed between them. The silence swelled, filling the room. It was a comfortable silence that chased away the doubts she’d experienced earlier.
Whatever his reasoning, whatever hers, they were married now; and each in their own way seemed determined to make the best of the situation. If Riley had lost his love, then it was behind him now. She, too, had loved another.
Riley’s hands inched their way from her shoulder, caressing the sides of her neck. His eyes continued to hold hers, then with excruciating slowness, he lowered his gaze to her mouth. Hannah felt her stomach tighten. The soft throaty sound that slipped from between her lips came as a surprise to her. Her face was flooded with color as she realized she’d practically begged Riley to kiss her again. The very thought mortified her. After all, she’d been the one to lay the ground rules in this relationship, and that had included no touching, at least not for a while. To his credit, Riley had respected her wishes all week. They’d lived as brother and sister—or, more appropriately, as drill sergeant and draftee.
A smile captured his eyes as he lazily rubbed his moist lips over hers. His kiss was gentle and undemanding. Their lips clung as his mouth worked against hers, deepening the pressure and the intensity. Hannah found herself opening up to him. Her hands slid up the hard wall of his chest as she leaned into his strength, absorbing it. Fire danced in her veins as a welcome, foreign excitement filled her.
Riley ended the kiss abruptly, dragging his mouth reluctantly from her. “I don’t want you helping anymore. Understand?”
“But, Riley…”
“That’s my baby you’re carrying.”
No sooner were the words out when Steve walked into the room. The other man’s gaze shot from Hannah to Riley and then back to her again, as though he weren’t sure he’d heard correctly. He didn’t comment, but it was apparent the information came as a shock, for his gaze grew deep and troubled.
“I can’t stand around doing nothing,” Hannah protested heatedly, biting into her lip. Riley might have announced her condition with a bit more diplomacy, instead of dropping it like a hot coal in his friend’s lap a few minutes after introducing her as his wife.
A flustered Steve grabbed a box and left the room. Tears of embarrassment filled Hannah’s eyes as she abruptly moved away from her husband. Silly tears, she realized. There was no need to hide the fact she was pregnant; it would become obvious to all soon enough, and everyone would know the real reason Riley had married her.
“Hannah?” Riley’s tone was gentle, concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so tactless.”
Assuming he’d left with his friend, Hannah stiffened and kept her back to him as she s
meared the moisture across her cheek. “I overreacted…. I guess I’m just a little tired is all.”
“You’re doing too much.”
Hannah couldn’t help smiling at that. She’d barely lifted a finger all morning. Once again his hands rested on her shoulders; and he gently turned her into his arms. As before, his touch was tender. His breath mussed the soft brown curls that had escaped the scarf that held the hair away from her face. Closing her eyes, she soaked in the comfort she felt in his arms, which seemed to outweigh the revelations of that morning.
“Steve and the others would have figured it out sooner or later.”
Unable to resist, she flattened her hands against his hard chest and rested her head there for several seconds. “You’re right. It’s probably best this way. It’s just that—”
“You’d have preferred for my friends to digest one piece of information at a time. You needn’t worry that they’ll judge us, you know. Friends wouldn’t.” He smiled down on her and then leaned over to brush his mouth against hers once again.
Hannah blinked as he moved away from her, lifted a heavy box upon his shoulders and seemingly without effort carted it out the door.
She stood for a moment and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. These few brief kisses were the first they’d exchanged since that fateful night. It had been incredibly good. Incredibly wonderful.
Once the truck was loaded, Riley came for Hannah, escorting her down the stairs and unlocking the van door before helping her inside the cab. Coming around the front, he hopped into the driver’s seat, started the engine and then grinned over at her. “You ready, Mrs. Murdock?”
His smile and mood were infectious, and she nodded and grinned herself. “Ready.”
Switching gears, he gripped the steering wheel and started whistling a catchy tune. It was the first time in a week or so, it seemed, that they hadn’t been at odds with each other; the first time that Hannah felt that her husband wasn’t going to storm at her for some imagined wrongdoing. Thus far into their relationship, he seemed more like a caretaker than a husband.
Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set Page 84
