Ultimatum: Marriage

by Ann Major

  “Your mother wore it every day,” he said, his deep voice rough behind her.

  “I know.”

  “It was her mother’s and maybe her mother’s before her I think.”

  Sudden tears pricked Alicia’s lashes but she wiped them away. She remembered too well how the pin used to flash on her dear mother’s collar. Alicia had always loved this piece of jewelry. She remembered sneaking into her mother’s room sometimes when she’d played dressup and opening the lacquered box just to gaze at it and count the points of the star.

  “No, it’s too valuable,” she said, replacing the pin in the box and handing it to him. “Besides, the authorities said they own everything now.”

  “Forget them.” He glanced toward the guard, who was still on his phone. “They’d take everything if we let them. This’ll be our little secret. Like I said, this was your grandmother’s before it was your mother’s. I know how much you loved your mother. I loved her, too. Pumpkin, one reason I wasn’t around much after she was gone was because you reminded me too much of her.”

  “Oh?” Was that really true? she wondered.

  “Also, I told myself that I was making all that money for you.”

  “Daddy, I can’t take it.”

  “She would have wanted you to have it. Besides, it’s your birthday. If I end up in prison, it may be the last present I can ever give you on your birthday.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Well, like I said, I’ve missed too many of your birthdays. I didn’t want to ignore this one…because it could be my last chance…”

  “Daddy, that’s really so sweet, but if I took it, it might get you into more trouble.”

  “Okay. I understand.” Closing the box, he replaced it in the drawer.

  He looked so disappointed she got up and put her arms around him. “But Daddy, thank you so much for thinking of me!”

  He stiffened and refused to look at her, since she wasn’t doing what he wanted.

  Touching his cheek, she said, “Maybe you won’t go to prison. Maybe you’ll be exonerated.”

  “Dream on,” he said wearily. “A lot of liars like your husband, who will stop at nothing, are conspiring to frame me.”

  Hesitantly she said, “Jake told me about the money missing from Houses for Hurricane Victims. He said you were in charge of investing those funds. If you didn’t take that money, then surely you must have an idea of who did.”

  “He would say that, of course! And you’re always so gullible, you believed him.” Letting her go, he stared at her as if she had become someone he didn’t really know. “He’s getting to you, isn’t he? Turning you against me?”

  “Did you take that money, Daddy? From the charity? From the bank?”

  He turned away. “Who do you think you are—to accuse me? You’re married to the real crook. When he’s through with you, he’ll toss you out like so much garbage.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Because I never thought I’d live to see the day when a daughter of mine would ask me such a thing. You know me.”

  “Do I?”

  Her father grew morose and silent. After sitting with him for ten more minutes and trying in vain to make small talk, she finally gave up and told him she had to go. He nodded indifferently.

  The guard checked her purse and shopping bags again at the door, but then at the last minute her father said something, so she went back to give him a goodbye hug. Throwing up his hands to ward off her embrace, he sent her purse and bags flying, spilling their contents under his couch and easy chair.

  “Sorry,” he muttered as he knelt to retrieve her things.

  “I’ll do it,” she whispered.

  “No! Stay where you are,” he thundered as he pulled a lipstick out from under a chair. “You caused enough trouble—by marrying Jake Claiborne.”

  When her father stood up, he was panting hard. He slammed the purse and bags into her hands.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  Turning away, he slumped back in his chair. She took a taxi back to the Quarter, where she found Victor. Later when she was safely back home, she went to her desk, intending to file the receipts for the things she’d bought for the nursery. But when she opened her shopping bags to look for the receipts, she found the lacquered box her father had tried to give her. When she lifted the lid, dazzling sparks of light glinted from her mother’s lovely pin.

  “Oh, no!”

  She sagged against her chair, her heart pounding. Why did her father have to be so hardheaded? Why couldn’t he just once take no for an answer? He was under house arrest. Didn’t he realize how serious that was? Even if this pin had belonged to her mother, he should abide by the terms of his arrest.

  She loved the pin, and he knew it. He’d thought she should have it for her birthday, so he’d found a way to slip it into a bag after the guard had checked them. If she took the pin back, she would get him into even worse trouble. A second trip would risk involving Jake again.

  Torn, she closed the box and stared at it for what seemed an eternity. After a long while she got up, carried it to her bedroom and slid it under her mattress. Later she would figure out what to do about the pin.

  Right now she wanted to concentrate on happier things…like Jake and her baby. Gathering her shopping bags, she hurried to the nursery and began putting away the things she’d bought for the baby.

  Eleven

  Alicia was straightening up the nursery when the phone rang.

  Had the authorities missed her mother's pin so soon?

  Or was it Jake calling to ask about her day? How could she talk to him without mentioning her visit to her father and the pin, which were so heavy on her mind? She would—she had to.

  Then, hoping the caller actually was her husband, she ran out into the hall to catch the phone.

  “Alicia?” The lilting, feminine voice was vaguely familiar, yet she couldn’t place it.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Cici! Logan’s wife. I don’t know if you remember me. We met at Pierre’s birthday party.”

  As if she could ever forget her dancing so wildly with Logan, who’d been her date, or anything else about that night.

  “I remember,” she said.

  Even though he said he was over her, Alicia felt too unsure of their relationship to feel totally secure around a woman he’d once been involved with. She wished she could stop remembering how erotically Cici had danced with Logan.

  “Logan and I want to invite you and Jake to dinner. Here at Belle Rose with Pierre.”

  “Oh? How nice.”

  Sounding sincerely friendly, Cici rushed on, giving her possible dates, saying they had some happy news too, suggesting a Friday or a Saturday so they could stay over and avoid a late night drive back to New Orleans.

  “I’ll talk to Jake and get back to you later today.”

  “That would be lovely. We can’t wait to see you both and congratulate you. We’re very happy you’re family.”

  “Thank you.”

  She asked after Pierre. After a brief conversation, they hung up.

  Alicia felt more uncertain than ever as she held the phone. The pin hidden under her mattress worried her, as did Cici’s warmth and eagerness to entertain them and celebrate their marriage. What if seeing Logan and Cici together made Jake focus on his past love?

  Still she should call Jake and tell him about the invitation. No. She would go to his office. Better to see his face when she told him Cici had called.

  Jake was thumbing through an annual report on a project in Orlando while deep in conversation with his head man on that venture when Vanessa suddenly burst into his office. Expecting bad news, he stared up at her.

  “Sorry to be a bother, but your wife is here, sir.” Her voice was tight and low. “She’s been here awhile and I have to tell you—she’s upsetting the natives. The sooner you see her, the better.”

  Jake didn’t say a word; he was too surprised. Quickly he t
erminated his call and rushed out to Vanessa’s office.

  “I hope you’re not too busy,” Alicia began as she stood up, glancing uncertainly at Vanessa before she looked at him. “Some of your employees weren’t happy to see me in the elevator.”

  “I’m sorry if my people were rude. It’s as much my fault as yours that tensions have been running so high around here of late. As far as I’m concerned, this is a pleasant surprise.” Frowning at his secretary, who was watching them with excessive interest, he took his wife’s arm and led her into his office. “We’d like coffee, if that’s not too much to ask, Vanessa.”

  She hesitated and then smiled at his bride. “Right away, sir.”

  “Decaf for me, please,” Alicia said.

  Alicia’s dark hair was drawn back from her fine-boned face and held by a pair of fat, gold clips. She wore a dark, tailored suit that made her look elegant but much too thin. Pregnant women were supposed to put on weight, not lose it. Was she all right?

  Had she dressed up for him? He wondered because Victor had called him from the Quarter. When Victor had said he’d lost her for a while, he’d described her clothes. She hadn’t been wearing a dark suit when she’d gone shopping earlier.

  He wouldn’t have thought much about her disappearance except he knew that her father had had a mysterious visitor today. A veiled lady. Basil Bienville, the infamous blogger had started the rumor that the woman was Alicia. He’d speculated she’d visited him because today was her birthday.

  Vanessa brought in a coffee tray, set it down without asking Alicia if she took cream or sugar and left them.

  “Why are you here?” he asked Alicia when they were alone.

  Was she here to tell him where she’d gone when she’d disappeared? Wondering if Basil was right, he braced himself for her confession.

  “I came because…” She flushed as she poured herself a cup of decaf coffee and watched him with an intensity that made him even more uneasy. She looked guilty of something. Then she said, “Cici called.”

  “Cici?”

  Alicia licked her lips and waited. When he said nothing more, she began in a rush, “She and Logan want us to come to Belle Rose for dinner. She said we should come on a Friday or a Saturday so we could stay the night.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  “They’re your family. It’s your decision.”

  “They’d expect us to share a bedroom…and a bed…like a normal, married couple. Is that something you really want to do?”

  Her face reddened. “Oh. I didn’t think.”

  She looked away as an answering tide of heat swept him. The dinner invitation was beginning to appeal to him. Yet…

  “We plan to separate after the child is born. I think it’s unwise to make this more difficult on ourselves or to involve other people, especially my family. We’ve discussed this before,” he said.

  “I’ll call her and decline.”

  Damn. “No, leave Cici to me.”

  Some emotion flashed in her eyes. Then she blushed. “Of course. I understand. You would use any excuse to talk to her, wouldn’t you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  When she whitened and turned quickly away, he wondered why she was so upset. Did it bother her that he’d once been in love with Cici? Why be jealous of a relationship that had been dead for years?

  “You do still see it that way, that we have to live by the rules we set, don’t you?” he said smoothly, hoping she’d indicate she didn’t.

  “Yes. It’s all perfectly logical.” Her voice was too soft and her spine too straight, and she was wringing her hands in her lap.

  “As if anything in our situation is logical.” She was his enemy’s daughter, but he wanted her more with every passing day. Wanted her enough to take her home to visit his family—just so he’d have an excuse to share her bed. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Separate bedrooms was your idea, remember?”

  She whirled on him. “I said I’m fine!”

  “Then why do you sound upset as hell?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. It’s like my life has spun out of control. My dad getting into trouble. You. The pregnancy. Our marriage. I don’t have anything to hold on to.”

  “Why did Cici’s call upset you so much?”

  “Who said it did?”

  “It did. I can tell.”

  “I don’t know. You’ve been so nice lately, it’s impossible to hate you. And if I can’t even hold on to that, what does that leave me?”

  “A chance to start over maybe. Look, I heard a rumor that today’s your birthday. Is that true?”

  She lowered her head shyly and he knew it was.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

  “We barely know each other. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “What?” he demanded.

  She stood up. “I’d better go home so you can work in peace.”

  He sprang to his feet. “Hey there—you can’t just start something and then run. Alicia, I want to know what’s going on. Are you jealous of Cici?”

  “No!”

  She was hell-bent for his door now, so he stopped her the only way he knew how—by clamping a strong hand over her arm and swinging her around into his arms.

  “It’s you I want. Not her.” He tilted her chin, then lowered his gaze to her lips that were so provocatively close to his. He was starving for another kiss. Starving. “Do you ever think about that night? I do. I want to do all the things we did that night again.”

  When she gazed at his mouth, he said, “I think it’s way past time we changed the dynamics of our marriage. Don’t normal people in normal relationships just let things progress to the next level sometimes? Like we did that night?”

  “That’s how we got in this mess.”

  “It’s what brought us together. We took risks that night because we wanted each other.”

  “Everybody who works for you hates me. You don’t want me near your family.”

  “Look, you’re my wife, a wife I very much want to get along with better. I’d like us to agree that our being together because of the baby was our start, but maybe that doesn’t have to always be the only reason we’re together. I know I said we should keep my family out of this if our marriage was going to be temporary. What if I want to change the rules?”

  “How? Why?”

  “I think it’s stupid to plan for failure. Our baby will need us together more after he or she is born. Why don’t we give our marriage a chance? What if I call Cici and suggest that since today’s your birthday, we’ll drive out for dinner Saturday night and have birthday cake with candles and presents, the works…with the whole family? I’ll tell her how proud I am of you, that I want to show you off to my family. Then—what if tonight I take you out for dinner, just the two of us, and celebrate your birthday?”

  She shook her head. “I—I can’t believe you mean this. Not when I’m who I am and you’re who you are.”

  “I don’t want to fight. I think it’s way past time we started considering new options—other than fighting—don’t you?”

  He moved to take her into his arms, but before he could touch her, a light knock on the door stopped him cold.

  Vanessa swept inside with a stack of documents in her arms. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Alicia blushed. “No, I was just going.”

  And just like that, the moment was lost. Jake clenched his hands, then forced himself to unclench them.

  “Don’t go,” he whispered to his wife, who froze.

  “Sorry,” Vanessa said softly as she set the documents on his desk.

  “Me, too,” he muttered.

  When Vanessa tiptoed outside, Jake turned back to his wife. “I’d very much like a fresh start.”

  “I would, too. If only such a thing were possibl
e.”

  “I believe we have to make our own opportunities,” he said, his hungry gaze on her beautiful lips again.

  Leaning into her, he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer. A pulse was beating madly in her throat.

  “Happy birthday,” he murmured, caressing her arms in an effort to ease her tension.

  Her eyes lit up.

  Seizing his chance, he kissed her. She expelled a delicious sigh and clasped him tighter.

  The kiss went on and on. Finally her dark eyes opened slowly and rose to his. He ran a light fingertip down her cheek. “Nice,” he whispered.

  Long after she’d said goodbye and left him, her taste and scent lingered.

  The hours dragged. He couldn’t wait to get home.

  Twelve

  The SUV was speeding along the Interstate lined on both sides by moss-covered live oaks and cypress trees and the occasional chemical plant. Not that Alicia was paying much attention to the semitropical abundance of greenery. She was too conscious of her husband behind the wheel. Ever since her birthday, he’d made it plain how much he wanted her.

  She wanted him, too, but reckless sex was what had caused their problems. If they were going to parent a child, their relationship needed to be based on something deeper than mere animal attraction. He needed to like her and respect her. They needed to trust each other. That said, she’d taken great pains with her hair and makeup and white linen dress.

  “Why do you keep fidgeting with the strap of your purse?” he asked.

  “I’m not fidgeting.” She pushed the straw purse onto the floorboard, so she wouldn’t be tempted to keep tracing the rough edges of the stitched leather strap.

  “We don’t have to go to Belle Rose, you know. My family always makes me feel…”

  “What? How do they make you feel?”

  “Let’s just say I’d rather spend the weekend alone with you. I’ll turn around. We’ll call Cici on my cell.”