A blush crept into her cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t think about buying one for you.”
Jack handed her a simple gold band. She took it and slipped it on the third finger of his left hand.
“With this ring I thee wed…”
And then Jack slid a smaller ring on her finger, repeating the words that symbolically bound them together.
“Now that Jackson and Alexis have given themselves to each other by solemn vows,” the minister said, “with the joining of hands, and the giving and receiving of rings, I announce that you are husband and wife…”
It was done. Jack’s heart took a nose dive.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Should he kiss her? That wasn’t part of their deal. But the minister grinned expectantly and Alex stood there looking so lovely, testing his willpower.
He didn’t have any.
In the split second before he kissed her, Alex’s eyes widened. Cautiously, tasting her parted lips, Jack was careful not to press her. He didn’t touch her as he longed to do. Only his mouth communicated his sudden need—his lunacy.
Jack straightened and stepped back. What made him agree to a celibate marriage? It was more than a red-blooded male should be expected to promise.
* * * *
She had done it. She was now Mrs. Jackson Breckinridge.
But heaven help her. What had she done? Jack’s chaste kiss had affected her like exploding land mines. Galloping horses. A whitewater rafting trip. Alex reeled from the memory of his warm and tender lips upon hers.
She shut her eyes a moment, swaying, trying not to stare at her reflection in the dressing room’s tall mirror. It told her many things she didn’t want to know. And the worst of them was that Jackson Breckinridge had breached whatever defenses she thought she’d erected.
He’d kissed her, and she had liked it. Not only that, she wanted far more.
Her eyes flew open. She must regain her focus. Making a better life for Tyler was more important than anything she might feel about the man she’d married.
Loving Tyler was real. A mother’s love. A primal thing. Something as much a part of her life as it was to breathe.
Her chest expanded. Loving Jack was fool’s gold. He was a Breckinridge. Once she had let Brandon consume her nights and days. Tyler was a product of that teenage love.
Don’t torture yourself with thoughts of the past.
Alex removed her skirt and top and returned them to the garment bag. She put on her sweater and jeans, trying not to think farther into the future than the trip back to Kentucky.
Her coat was in the limo. Glancing once more around, she gathered up her tote and garment bag.
Jack waited for her outside. He had removed his black tuxedo and was dressed in cords and a cashmere sweater. His mouth was set in a grim line. “It’s snowing.”
“What?”
He took the garment bag from her hand. “It’s snowing. Not hard yet, but it’s picking up. I called the airport and my pilot said the ceilings are low. He won’t fly under these conditions even with instruments.”
“Okay.” Alex allowed the information to sink in. “What do we do?”
“We stay the night.”
She clutched her tote bag tighter. “In Gatlinburg?”
Jack brushed a glance across her face. “Actually, part of the wedding package is a one-night stay in a nearby cabin.” A smile curved his lips. “A honeymoon cabin.”
Chapter Six
Jack was in big trouble now. That single kiss at the end of the ceremony was not part of the bargain. Neither was spending the night—together—in a honeymoon cabin.
During dinner, Jack forced himself to chat about nonsensical things to kill time. Sitting across from him with her elbows on the table, Alex seemed as ill-at-ease as he felt. She sipped a cup of coffee, savoring it as if she was loath to leave the safety of the restaurant.
“I suppose this is hard for a confirmed bachelor.” She balanced a china cup between her fingers.
“What do you mean?”
“When we were young, I remember you saying you weren’t marriage material. Now you’re saddled with a wife.” Alex shrugged. “You must regret giving up your freedom.”
His mouth pinched into a straight line before he spoke. “Look, Alex, we both know why we married. It’s a little too late for regrets.”
“I have no regrets.” She lifted her gaze to meet his straight on.
Jack’s chest heaved, and the tightness eased. “I have no regrets either. We’re in this together,” he said. “Just the two of us.”
“I know.”
Alex’s genuine beauty shone on her face, stealing the air from his lungs. “We must stick together.”
“And remember the bottom line.” Determination fired her eyes. “Tyler.”
There wasn’t much to say after that. Jack called for the bill. He’d been afraid she would bring up the kiss in the chapel, but she hadn’t. He had been spared.
For the moment.
The limo driver dropped them off at the front steps of a secluded log cabin snuggled in a wooded valley and promised to return at nine in the morning.
And then they were alone. Only one security lamp lit the cold night, illuminating the gently falling snowflakes that glittered and danced around them. All was hushed, the air crisp and clean. Their footfalls crunched softly on the snow.
Jack climbed the wooden, snow-covered steps to the porch and unlocked the front door. Inside, he flicked on the overhead lights, dropped his small bag, and took stock of the surroundings.
A bar separated the living room from a small kitchen. The living area was rustic and functional with a sturdy plaid sofa, oak tables, and a cheerful braided rug on the rough-hewn hardwood floor.
Logs and kindling were conveniently laid in the stone fireplace, and a Butane firetorch was placed on the mantle. Jack ignited the twisted newspaper and kindling. The firewood burst quickly into flames with a welcoming crackle.
Alex remained outside on the uncovered porch gazing at the snowfall. “Are you coming in? It’s warm inside.” Jack shut the front door and walked out to stand beside her.
“It’s just like a fairy tale,” she said almost sighing, her breath frosty in the frigid air.
If this was a fairy tale, then Alex was the fairy princess, her green eyes dreamy and faraway and her dark brown hair sprinkled white with snow. His jaw hardening, Jack suppressed the urge to touch her.
He searched for something to say. “It is peaceful.”
“And pristine.” She turned her wide eyes on him, a half smile on her lips. “As if we’re in our own little world.”
He held her gaze a moment, her romantic words chafing him. Damn. How was he going to survive a night, let alone the rest of his life? Jack reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The feel of her skin sent shafts of raw need through him.
She shivered at his touch. “Maybe we should go inside. Maybe there are bears.”
His laugh helped him ease his tension. The only bears he knew were on the inside of the cabin, but he didn’t dare voice that belief.
“Yes, we’d better go in.”
Once inside the cabin, Jack locked the door and busied himself at the hearth. He prodded the fire into a blaze trying to avoid thinking about Alex. He was aware of her prowling the cabin. She touched a wooden table one moment, picking up a magazine the next. He knew every move she made without even looking at her.
Alex checked the refrigerator. “There’s basic breakfast food in here.”
“Good. We should be able to get an early start.”
Next Alex explored the closed door beside the fireplace.
“Oh, my gosh!”
Jack jumped up. Crossing the short space to stand behind Alex, he stared into a bedroom. Decorated with mirrors on the ceiling, ornate red draperies and a king size, heart-shaped bed covered with a red velvet bedspread, the room was a veritable pleasure den.
“Hot damn,” he said, unable to suppress a giant grin.
Alex’s knees almost buckled. “Well, it certainly is a honeymoon cabin.” She tried to inject a bit of humor.
Jack lightly touched her shoulder. “Alex, I’m sorry about this.”
She turned to face him, her insides sweltering with an unwelcome desire she fought to control. “That’s okay.” Her voice cracked. “You didn't know it would snow.”
“Maybe we should have stayed in Louisville.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Gotten married there. I just wanted to make it special, more than a sterile civil ceremony.”
Alex longed to stroke the contrition from his brow. “It is kind of charming.” She lifted her hand to gently touch his sweater and tried to smother a smile. “I wonder how many happy couples have rocked the night away in there.”
He abruptly turned away. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
After he had enlarged the space between them, Jack turned once more to gaze at Alex, his face stony.
This is hard on him. She ached for him and for herself. Why hadn’t she considered Jack’s feelings? He was a man with a man’s need. Did he feel the awakening chemistry between them just as she did?
He was a hero for denying himself.
But the night wasn’t over yet.
Stung by conflicting notions, Alex gathered her nerve. “I guess I’ll hit the sack, er, go to bed.”
“Maybe I should shower first so I won’t have to do it in the morning.”
“Sure. Go ahead. There must to be a bathroom off the bedroom.” She stepped out of his way, leaving the door to the chamber of love wide open.
“Thanks.” Jack picked up his bag and practically darted into the bedroom.
Soon Alex heard the shower running. An image popped into her mind of steamy hot water cascading over dark hair and hard muscles. Knots tightened between her shoulder blades.
She circled the living room, noting the framed prints of mountain scenes on the wall. Her pacing didn’t work, however. Her palms grew damp.
Wandering into the kitchen to wash her hands, Alex spotted another door she’d not yet investigated. It opened onto a chilly back porch enclosed by glass windows made foggy from the bubbling water of a hot tub.
Someone at the wedding chapel had thought of everything.
Alex dipped her fingers into the bubbles and let the hot water slip through them. Steam rose to her face, beckoning her. Many times after a long day at the track, she had longed for a whirlpool to soothe the pain from her aching muscles. Now, with one right in front of her, she couldn’t resist.
There was one problem. A major one. She had traveled without a change of clothing.
Murky light from an outside security lamp seeped through the cloudy windows that enclosed the chilly porch. Fluffy white towels were piled on a wooden bench beside the hot tub. Several white terry cloth robes hung nearby. That solved part of her problem.
Alex glanced around. The bedroom door was still shut. She closed the door to the porch.
Quickly stripping out of her clothes, she placed them on the bench. Her bare flesh prickled with goose bumps. Shivering, she climbed the steps, tested the water with a toe, and then sank slowly into the delicious warmth.
Sliding under the water up to her chin, Alex let out a sigh. The tips of her hair dampened and she realized it would frizz. No matter. She planned to enjoy every minute of this.
Jets shot hot streams of water upon her back and around her thighs. Buoyed by the depth, Alex stretched her legs out so the pulsating water hit her feet. Soaking in silence, with only the sounds of bubbles and the strong aroma of chlorine around her, Alex relaxed. Her tight muscles loosened and her pulse rate lowered.
She leaned her head against the side of the tub and shut her eyes.
In the netherworld of the water and steam, Alex questioned her high-minded reasoning for accepting this marriage with Jack. She was giving her son what was his—what Brandon had refused to provide. His heritage. Security. Safety.
Granted, Jack would keep them safe. He would provide the monetary things they lacked. But what about their emotional needs? Would he step up and be the father Tyler didn’t have?
She crossed her arms over her breasts, feeling vulnerable, dirty even. What had she done? There was no honor in it for her. She had compromised so much, giving up her hard won independence and taking the easy way out.
In the end it had been guilt that had caused her to marry Jack.
Long moments passed, bubbles washing over her. Heat rose to her cheeks. The warmth of the tub became an inferno. Tired of beating herself up, Alex stood, the water swishing around her waist. Slowly she climbed out of the tub, reaching for the towel.
“Alex?”
Her breath caught in her throat as Jack opened the door. He stood in the doorway, wearing only a pair of plaid boxer shorts.
Alex couldn’t drag her gaze away from the dark curls on his rock-hard chest, the width of his broad shoulders, the gleam of desire flashing in his now darkened gray eyes. But there was something more in his gaze, a longing so profound and intense that it caused her to hesitate. She let the towel dangle from her fingers.
Standing naked before him, her heart pounded and her voice failed.
Jack felt the blood drain from his face. His eyes froze on Alex’s slender, athlete’s body as she slowly stood and stared at him. Water droplets clung to her long eyelashes. Damp ringlets framed her face. Her full lips, slightly open, seemed receptive—inviting more than she knew.
Every muscle in his body grew taut. Jack wanted Alex as badly as he’d wanted anything in his life. He wanted her love and friendship even more than he wanted to win the Kentucky Derby. The realization sucker punched him.
He stared at her while despair suddenly ravaged his heart. Alex didn’t want him. He knew he was only a means to an end—a damn checkbook.
And he had given his word. No sex for him. How could he face her knowing deep down in his heart he had lied to himself to get her to agree to this marriage? For him this wasn’t a loveless marriage.
Jack ducked his head and silently backed out of the doorway, softly shutting the door.
Outside in the living room, he dressed quickly. His mind was a blur of regret and embarrassment. Frustration clawed at his gut. If only she had whispered his name, he would have gone to her. He would have taken her into his arms and kissed her all night long, telling her about his love. And maybe then they could find the beginnings of a real marriage.
It wasn’t meant to be.
The cozy cabin seemed to press in on him. The living room was too warm and intimate. Jack slipped on his shoes and his coat. Opening the door, he stepped outside.
The snow had stopped. He stood on the porch and shivered. His head pounded. Cupping his hands, he blew his hot breath on them. Minutes passed. Finally, Jack shut his eyes and lifted his face to the stars, trying to let the serenity of the cold, snowy night seep through him.
It didn’t work. Questions and recriminations continued to rip him apart.
Did he enjoy torturing himself? If he couldn’t control his emotions and hide his true feelings from her, how did he expect to keep their relationship strictly platonic?
He had no answers.
When Jack finally returned to the living room thirty minutes later, the fire had burned down, casting a faint glow in the darkened room. There was enough light for him to see Alex had left a blanket on the sofa.
And a red pillow from their honeymoon bed.
Chapter Seven
Change was in the crisp, March air. Alex pressed her shoulders against the leather seat of Jack’s Porsche as it purred up the winding driveway. Ahead the lights of Breckinridge Estate twinkled on the hilltop, a gentle beacon in the moonless night. Relaxing the knots in her neck and shoulders, Alex took slow, deep breaths, techniques she used on the track, and willed herself to remain calm.
Beside her Jack was quiet. Too quiet. As if he too was having second thoughts or serious misgivings.
No one knew about their marriage except fo
r Tyler, who at first had been standoffish, but was now happy to be moving to a horse farm, and Evelyn, who welcomed Jack as if he was the son she never had. The two most important people in Alex’s life were excited about their impending move. For her mother, she was going home. For Tyler, he was going on a great adventure.
For Alex, she was living a nightmare.
They had been married less than a week and they’d yet to spend a full day together. It had been hectic, returning from Tennessee, quitting her day-job at Chandler’s, galloping Johnny’s horses in the morning, and packing their belongings for the move to the farm in the afternoon. There had been little time to see Jack, who stayed at his condo, let alone discuss the incident at the hot tub.
Why had she failed to cover her body, letting him see her? Why had she stood transfixed, like a doe caught in the headlights, unable to move? It made no sense, especially when inside she had reacted with an intense flare of desire.
Thinking of him that way felt awkward.
Alex shut her eyes, unable to face the man by her side. Having sex without love was impossible for her. She had an old-fashioned idea that love came before making love. Brandon had shown her the fallacy of that naïve expectation. His definition of love had been sex.
Oh, well, she didn’t have to worry. Jack was a gentleman. He had proven that already on their wedding night. He didn’t want to be married any more than she did. He had sacrificed his freedom for a family obligation.
The Porsche slid to a stop in the middle of a circular driveway, and a young man dressed in white shirt, black tie and trousers sprang forward to open Jack’s door. Stepping out of the car, Jack handed over his keys and then came around to help Alex out. His hand was warm. His smile appeared genuine. She promptly disengaged her hand.
“You look lovely, Alex,” he said.
Thank heavens for her wedding dress and Nana’s pearls. At least she had something appropriate to wear to Mrs. Breckinridge’s charity dinner. She felt herself blush. “Thank you.”
His black hair gleamed in the lights that flooded the entrance of the white brick colonial. His handsome face was reserved but his eyes twinkled. He wore a black tuxedo like he’d worn on their wedding day and carried himself with a commanding self-confidence.
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