Ultimatum: Marriage

by Ann Major

  No way was she going to let her wedding, such as it was, be planned by Jake’s office staff.

  “I’ll plan it,” she whispered, hurt beyond words that he’d suggested such a thing even though she knew her feelings were utterly illogical.

  Pregnancy. Hormones. A marriage of convenience to Jake. She was definitely in for a roller-coaster ride.

  Six

  How ironic that St. Anthony’s Garden, the spot his bride had chosen for their wedding, had once been the most popular dueling ground in New Orleans. Too bad the twenty-first century was more civilized. If Jake could have called his bride’s father out and shot him, he would have.

  Tonight peace reigned. Birds chirped high in the oak trees. A great sculpture of the Sacred Heart reigned in the shady nook that smelled so sweetly of olives. Beyond the garden, tourists chattered as they posed in Pirate’s Alley snapping pictures. In the distance street musicians played jazz.

  Jake wanted to hate Alicia for complicating his life but reason told him he was equally to blame. He didn’t want to marry her, but with every word that the priest uttered binding him to Alicia Butler, his desire for her grew until it felt like a crushing weight. Indeed, ever since he’d agreed to the marriage, thoughts of a naked and eagerly writhing Alicia in his bed had consumed him. All night long he’d lain awake in his bed and thought of her lying in hers downstairs, and he’d wondered if she was thinking of him.

  Why did she have to stand so close to him in the dense, humid air so that with every breath he inhaled her perfume?

  They say a little piece of paper doesn’t matter; that it changes nothing.

  They don’t know crap. He felt trapped—doomed. At the same time his body raged to have her again. And again. He burned as if he had a fever. His feelings for this woman were illogical and out of proportion to any he’d ever felt for another.

  Get a grip.

  To distract himself Jake stared up at the triple spires of St. Louis Cathedral towering above their small wedding party hunched together beneath the hurricane-damaged trees. The only guests were his secretary and her bored-looking son, whose dark head was bent over some electronic device.

  Thankfully, no member of his own family or Alicia’s was present to witness this farce.

  It didn’t console him that Alicia seemed equally miserable. Her slim fingers that gripped his arm for support shook. Her carriage was rigid; her lovely face ashen.

  His heart caught. Why should he sympathize? With a little imagination, surely she could have dreamed up a better solution than a sexless marriage that was already driving him crazy.

  A man forced into a shotgun marriage should get something for his trouble, Jake thought gloomily. Why had he stupidly agreed not to sleep with her?

  He’d been sober, that was why. He never thought straight sober.

  Too bad he wasn’t sober now. Thanks to the shots of whiskey he’d drunk to give him the courage to show up, he felt dangerously near some breaking point.

  The late-evening sunlight sifting through the oaks caressed her high, classic brow and made her creamy skin glow. Every time their glances met, her large, dark eyes shot sparks. Why did she keep licking her plump, sensual mouth? Didn’t she know that the sight of her tongue had him remembering all the erotic places her moist lips and tongue had touched him with deft little strokes?

  His gaze drifted over her straight chiseled nose, her delicate chin and her long graceful neck. Her white lace sheath was skintight, showing off her flawless figure even as the purity of its color made her look virginal. How could a pregnant woman whose breasts were swollen look so untouched and sexy?

  Hell.

  “Jake, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?” Father Alex asked.

  Alicia’s hot, dark eyes flashed when they met Jake’s again, causing his blood to quicken.

  “I will,” he whispered hoarsely through clenched teeth.

  No matter how he fought to blank out her soft response as she pledged herself to him forever, when her husky voice said, “I will,” something shifted inside him and the dark need to claim her obsessed him all over again.

  Suddenly he couldn’t wait to slip his ring on her finger. He didn’t want other men looking at her or touching her without knowing who she belonged to.

  She was his wife. His. Period.

  As the priest continued to drone, Jake’s blood buzzed with fierce passion. Damn it, he wanted to at least kiss her. Wasn’t that part of this hellish ceremony?

  After an interminable amount of sanctimonious verbiage, the priest finally pronounced them man and wife. “You may kiss your bride,” he said.

  In a flutter, Alicia tried to turn away, but Jake grabbed her slim wrist and spun her into his hard arms. Cutting off her startled cry of protest, he claimed her mouth with his.

  Her hands came up to push against his wide chest, but at the first touch of his lips, she sighed and then whispered his name.

  “Jake, oh, Jake…” Her dark eyes were aflame with needs as deep and dark as his own. Rising onto her tiptoes, her arms circling his neck, she clung, leaning into his body.

  She was soft and warm. Waves of hot pleasure washed through him. Her lips parted, inviting more.

  Maybe everything about their marriage was wrong, but this felt right. Too right.

  She was shaking, and so was he as his tongue swept inside her warm, honeyed mouth.

  His kiss was needlessly aggressive, possessive and primitive. Once he’d started kissing her, some force outside him took over, and he couldn’t stop himself.

  He’d married her, hadn’t he? She was his. If his pulse had been racing before the kiss, her satiny mouth and honeyed taste made it accelerate to rocket speed.

  Ever since he’d kissed her that afternoon she’d shown up on his doorstep, he’d thought about doing it again, thought about it too damn much. The night he’d spent in the swamp to get his head straight had changed nothing.

  His arms crushed her body to his. He wanted her to moan, to press her slim body and heavy breasts closer, and to go limp and beg. The longer he kissed her, the more he wanted from her.

  “Jake, we’re in public,” she whispered shyly. Her slender hands fells away from his neck and wedged themselves between their bodies. Pushing against him, she stared up at him with eyes filled with a mixture of longing and embarrassment.

  Slowly her puny efforts penetrated his lust-charged brain, and he realized he was way out of line.

  What the hell was he doing? Cursing his damnable weakness for her, he let her go and pivoted free.

  Blushing, Alicia fell back a few feet. Turning her back to him, she wiped her mouth and smoothed her hair with hands that trembled.

  When Vanessa’s sharp, questioning gaze sought his, he felt like an idiot, so he scowled back at her, willing to keep her damn mouth shut and mind her own business for once. She did, but her expression softened as she regarded first him and then his wife.

  Then he realized Vanessa wasn’t the only member of their little party who was gazing at them with rapt fascination. Her son had stopped playing with his electronic device, and Father Alex had dropped his Bible and looked agitated as he stooped to pick it up.

  Feeling a growing pressure to say something or do something, he turned on Alicia. “Well, now that we’ve gotten the ceremony out of the way, Vanessa can drive you home. I’m going back to my office.”

  Alicia’s cheeks flamed with wounded pride. “But it’s Saturday.”

  “So?”

  “But…I mean…when will you be home?”

  He didn’t want her to know how profoundly she affected him. He didn’t want any of them to know.

  “This is hardly a real marriage,” he said beneath his breath. “So don’t wait up. Watch a movie. Read a book. Pet the beast. Frankly, I don’t care what you do.”

  She turned so white, he was afraid she’d faint. He was reaching for her when Va
nessa rushed to her side.

  More than anything he wanted to take Alicia in his arms again. He wanted to drive her home and spend the night with her, but his feelings were too raw and charged.

  His bride’s stricken expression made him feel like a heel. He’d hurt her, and he felt bad about that, too.

  How the hell had she turned the tables on him? Her father had stolen money from his charity and from thousands of other innocent people. She was probably in on the entire scam.

  But was she?

  Damn it. Fool that he was, he very much wanted to believe she was innocent.

  “Some honeymoon, huh?” Vanessa smiled as she stood on Jake’s front porch. “I’d come in and stay for a while if I didn’t have Rick in the car.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with my boss, and I don’t really know you, other than what I’ve read, but if you feel like talking to somebody, remember my home phone is number two on your speed dial. I’ll be home with the kids all evening.” Vanessa smiled at her.

  “Thanks.” Just knowing that someone was out there was reassuring. “And thanks for coming today,” Alicia said. “I…I always dreamed of a different kind of wedding.”

  “Don’t we all? I had a great wedding and a lousy marriage. Maybe you’ll have the reverse. It could happen. Jake’s a good man, better than most—but he is a man. Sure, he has his limitations. Trust me, he already had a lot on his plate before you showed up on his doorstep.”

  “I know. And he thinks it’s all my fault.”

  “I’m beginning to doubt that. You hang in there…and he’ll see you for who you really are. Be patient…. Oh, who am I to talk? I’m really the last thing from a romantic.”

  Vanessa reached for her and pulled her into her arms. After hugging her, she whispered, “Good luck. You deserve it. For what it’s worth, you were a very beautiful bride. I think you knocked Jake off his feet. He’ll be back, probably sooner than you expect.”

  “You’d better be calling to tell me you didn’t go through with it!” Mitchell roared.

  Alicia sagged against a wall as she gripped the telephone. A small voice did ask why he couldn’t once take her side. Vanessa, who didn’t even know her, was at least trying not judge her. “But Daddy….”

  In spite of the fact that Jake had forbidden her to call her father, she had. While Jake had been at work, she’d left her father a message yesterday informing him of her intention to marry Jake today. Besides, what was the harm? She hadn’t told him where or when, so it wasn’t as if she’d invited him and he might show up and upset Jake or anything.

  As was his custom, Mitchell hadn’t even bothered to return her call in a timely fashion.

  “So you married him?”

  “I called because I didn’t want you learn about it by reading it in the newspapers or on the Web.”

  “As if it matters how I learn it! Where is he now? Is he listening? Gloating?”

  “No. He left…right after the marriage ceremony. I don’t know where he is or if he’s ever coming home. It’s not like he wanted to marry me.”

  “What? Then why the hell… Never mind! It’s your funeral. You were a fool to marry him, so you deserve whatever misery he dishes out—which will be plenty, I assure you. You made your bed—now lie in it!” With that her father, who wasn’t known for his patience or gentleness, hung up on her, leaving her alone in Jake’s big house to enjoy what was left of her wedding day.

  As if she could enjoy anything now, trapped in this house, knowing she’d married a man who didn’t care for her, knowing that by doing so, she’d turned her father completely against her. She should have realized how totally empty and bereft she’d feel once she truly alienated him.

  Laying down her cordless phone, she went in search of Gus. Naturally, he wouldn’t come or even mew when she called. When she couldn’t find him anywhere on the first floor, she climbed the stairs and found him reclining in the hall outside Jake’s locked, bedroom door, thumping his tail while waiting for the master of the house to come home.

  “You little traitor. You’re worthless sometimes, you know that?”

  Gus’s eyes remained shut. He looked much too serene as his head remained on his crossed paws even as his tail began to twitch faster.

  When she leaned down and picked him up, he meowed loudly and swished his tail to show that he was very much annoyed.

  “Traitor! You’re my cat, you know, not his,” she said, kissing the tip of his ear.

  The ear whipped against his skull as she headed down the stairs with him. His yellow eyes stared into hers with a feral look that said he didn’t know any such thing. He was his own cat, thank you very much, and, of course, he refused to purr and began to strain to get away.

  When she reached the bottom floor, he twisted sharply. A claw from a back paw caught in her forearm as he jumped to the floor. Then he leaped back up the stairs, no doubt to resume his stubborn vigil outside Jake’s door.

  “He doesn’t want you any more than he wants me, you know,” she yelled. “Maybe less!” Then she stalked to the hall bathroom, and washed off the beads of blood and toweled her arm dry.

  What had she done? Why had she ever thought marrying Jake even for a short time would be a solution to anything? She’d completely alienated her father now, and that loss filled her with a mixture of guilt and regret. Maybe he hadn’t been the most attentive of fathers but he’d always been there, at least in the background. Until now.

  He was probably going to prison and she’d married the man who was responsible. Tears flooded her eyes but she brushed them aside, refusing to surrender to emotional turmoil or self-doubt. She’d done what she had to do for her baby.

  Marching into the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of ice water and then gobbled three dill pickles and a slice of cheese. Then she hurried to her bedroom where she undressed and got ready for a long evening of watching television and reading the books and magazines on her nightstand. All of Jake’s magazines had to do with outdoor adventures, especially in Alaska, which sounded like a freezing hell with way too many mosquitoes, not to mention bears. Funny, but hadn’t he told her that first night that he sometimes went there to be all alone when he was feeling most stressed?

  Later, as she climbed into the big bed all by herself and pulled the sheets up to her neck, loneliness washed over her. She wanted Jake, which was stupid and illogical, considering their circumstances. He had kissed her, yes. Passionately. And then he’d hated them both for it.

  Why should she think she could matter to Jake, her father’s enemy, who’d been forced to marry her, when she hadn’t ever mattered to anyone else before? Not even her own father.

  Except Mother.

  Don’t think about any of that. Or even the present. You will get through this. Concentrate on the future.

  Thinking of her own baby, her spirits gradually brightened. She wanted her child fiercely and she was willing to fight for the best possible life for her baby—and that included giving her baby a father. Like her mother, she would create a beautiful nursery. Like her mother, she would spend as much time as possible with her child. And maybe…maybe in time what her father had done or hadn’t done would become clear. And Jake’s attitude toward her and their child would change.

  For no reason at all she remembered how he’d held her hand and listened so intently that first night she’d confided in him. Then he’d taken her in his arms the day she’d shown up on his doorstep and told him she was pregnant. Today he’d kissed her passionately. Maybe it wasn’t so foolish to believe he had it in him to make a wonderful father and even a good husband.

  She had to hold on to that possibility…and fight for it.

  Seven

  Alicia woke the next morning feeling stronger—until she caught the thick scent of boudin sausage, frying eggs and steaming chicory-flavored coffee wafting out of the air-conditioning vent.

  Obviously Jake had come home. Smiling because she was
glad he was home, she sat up. At that slight movement her stomach became hollow and her mouth was suddenly too dry for her to swallow. Throwing her sheets aside, she rushed for the bathroom, intending to splash cold water on her face.

  In her haste, she slammed into a low table. The china teacup and saucer she’d forgotten to return to the kitchen last night shattered on the oak floor. With a little cry, she kept running.

  After bathing her face, the nausea gradually passed.

  Last night to cheer herself up she’d watched a couple of comedies on television, which had eased her depression and caused her to laugh until she’d nearly cried. She’d fallen asleep feeling more hopeful about the future.

  At the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing and heavy, male footsteps approaching, she turned slowly.

  “Jake?”

  “Who else? Are you all right?” he rumbled in his deep, insistent voice.

  “Just a touch of morning sickness, but I’m fine. Or at least I will be…soon,” she whispered. “Give me a minute. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Are you naked again?” He sounded hopeful.

  “You would think of that.”

  “I’m a man. You’re a beautiful woman, who’s now my wife. A woman I have a sexual history with. Of course I imagine you naked. All the time.”

  “Beautiful? I haven’t brushed my hair and I’ve got mascara smudged under my eyes.” She groaned.

  “I was just trying to make you forget how rotten you feel.”

  “Just go away.”

  Then he was there beside her with the disloyal Gus Dear close at his heels. The feline devil had the gall to purr as his black tail curled around Jake’s legs and then hers.