Home? She shivered. She didn't know if she could ever feel comfortable in a house that was so large, so steeped in luxury, so...stark and cold.
Cara had always been a person who liked to "nest." She liked soft colors, overstuffed furniture, fluffy rugs, fresh flowers. In the past she had always strived for a sense of coziness in her surroundings. She'd felt it was important that a person feel as if she could take off her shoes and relax the moment she'd crossed the threshold.
Something would have to be done to Ross's home, that much was clear to her. If she was going to live here, she had to make at least one room an oasis of beauty so she could feel at ease. But she didn't know if she dared do anything so mundane as add color, pattern and texture to a room in Ross's house. Ross had probably spent a fortune in decorating fees to obtain its current look. After all, the castle was a showplace—the kind of home where one entertained.
Or courted royalty. In truth, she would have been less surprised to see Robin Hood and Maid
Marian suddenly appear, than someone padding down the hall in stocking feet.
"I hope this meets with your approval."
Ross stopped at a set of double doors opposite the nursery, and her heart thumped in her chest.
"I thought you might want to be close to the children—especially while your own twins are settling in."
"Y-yes. That would be nice."
Her fingers unconsciously pleated the ribbon of the bouquet she still held. Was she about to discover that Ross also shared the same room? After all, they'd just promised to spend a lifetime together. It wouldn't be too much to ask that they share the same bedroom, even platonically.
"I'll leave you here to change. In the meantime I'll get out of my own suit and meet you downstairs."
"Sure." The word was a bare puff of sound. To her infinite relief she watched Ross move away and disappear into a room at the end of the corridor.
So he didn't expect her to share a bed with him.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Cara opened the door to the bedroom, then stared. The suite was huge. Huge and ornate and...
"Positively medieval," she murmured, stepping inside, closing the door again and resting her back against the carved panels.
Stark-white walls stretched up and up to a vaulted ceiling edged in ornately carved wood. A four-poster bed complete with a richly embroidered canopy and coverlet had been positioned against one wall, while at the other was a small sitting room. Directly opposite the door was a huge bay window complete with multicolored mullioned panes.
Kicking her shoes off, Cara set the bouquet on a mahogany table and shrugged out of her jacket. An investigation of the other two doors revealed a walk-in closet larger than her previous bedroom and a bathroom complete with a Roman-orgy-size tub, a separate shower and a full dressing area.
"Welcome to the lives of the rich and shameless," she whispered, then paused when she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror.
"What have you done, Cara m'girl?" she asked softly, repeating the often used phrase her older brother would ask whenever he sensed she'd been up to no good.
But on the heels of that thought came a fierce certainty that she'd done the right thing. She couldn't have competed against a man like this. Not in a million years. She had only to look around her at this house to realize that Ross Gifford had all the necessary tools to get what he wanted. If
he'd decided to take Zoe away, a simple CPA wouldn't have been able to stop him.
Her chin tilted defiantly. Which meant that she'd made her decision and she would stick by it. One way or another, she would find a way to make the best of this situation. She might not feel comfortable in his house—or even his life—for the time being. But she could change that. It wasn't as if she were a total stranger to the better things life could offer. She'd rubbed shoulders with the wealthy during her brief marriage to Elliot.
But she was soon beginning to realize that Elliot's wealth was nothing compared to Ross's. She would have to be on her best behavior with Ross's friends and associates.
The moment the thought popped into her head, she grew still. No. She'd played that game with Elliot—trying to mold herself into the woman she thought he wanted so that he would be happy. In doing so, she'd lost more and more of her own identity and self-worth.
Ross Gifford had known what she was before he married her—a simple person with simple tastes. She would be herself around him, damn it. And if he didn't like it, then he could.. .he could...
Find someone else? Like Elliot had done?
Groaning, she marched into the closet, intent on finding her things. She refused to think any more
about the marriage or her role as Ross's wife. If she wanted to keep her sanity, she would need to concentrate on the here and now and not the what-ifs of the future.
Cara quickly found that all of her belongings had been neatly hung on the closet rods or placed in the drawers underneath. Everything had been sorted according to function, style and color with such precision that Cara wondered who was responsible. Was it Stibbs who had been so attentive or the unknown housekeeper and her staff?
Sighing, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, noting to her dismay that both of them had been religiously pressed. In her opinion there was something sad about comfort clothes that had been ironed.
A few minutes later she emerged from her room, her clothes changed, her feet encased in a pair of sneakers and her face washed and sporting only a bare minimum of makeup. If a stand was going to be made regarding her personal preferences, she might as well begin now.
Hearing Ross's voice coming from the front of the house, she jogged down the stairs, her fingers lightly tracing the carved banister. Then she followed Ross's low tones until she reached what looked like a sunroom. Except for the nursery, it was the most casual room she'd seen yet in Ross's
house. A large, round, wrought-iron table was surrounded by potted plants and trellises covered with clematis. A whole series of floor-to-ceiling French doors opened onto a brick terrace.
Seeing her, Ross terminated his call. He had changed from his charcoal-colored suit, but still wore a pair of tailored trousers and a dark polo shirt. He looked ready for a round of golf at an expensive country club.
"Do you play golf?" she asked suddenly.
"Yes, why?"
"Just wondering." Sliding her fingers into her hip pockets, she turned to stare at the room around her. Once again, except for the plants, the room was decorated in a stark grayish-white. "I never cared for the game, personally," she said, her words nearly a dare.
"Why is that?"
"I couldn't see the sense in paying money to chase a little ball around with a stick."
Ross's lips twitched, but not enough to actually become a smile. "There are some who would say that the fun of the game comes from just such a challenge."
"I suppose."
"The pizza should be here any minute."
Cara stiffened. "I thought we were going out."
"Rush hour traffic will be reaching its height
about now, so I figured we might as well have our food delivered and save ourselves some time."
"Sure." Her voice was casual, but inside she was a mass of jangling nerves again. She'd been counting on the noise and bustle of a pizza parlor to cover the awkward silences. Instead she and Ross would be eating alone.
Belatedly Cara realized that Ross hadn't even asked her what kind of toppings she wanted on her pizza. With her luck, he'd probably ordered from a gourmet restaurant and she was about to be fed an exotic concoction of goat cheese and roasted pine nuts.
She was going to have to teach this man to relax.
No. It wasn't her place to change Ross any more than she wanted to him to change her. But she wished there could be a way to help erase the grief from deep in his eyes.
Silence fell around them, and Cara scrambled for something to say to fill the void. Heaven only knew that her own thoughts were far too dangerous f
or her to dwell on them.
''You've made arrangements for the twins to meet each other tomorrow?"
Ross nodded. "Polly will bring Heidi and Zoe to meet us at the park, then Mrs. Graves will arrive a few minutes later with Becca and Brianne."
Cara hadn't been surprised when Ross had
checked with a renowned child psychologist to decide how best to reunite the children. They had been told to choose a "neutral" location where the twins could explore one another much as they would any other curiosity.
"How do you think they'll react?"
Cara's fingers worried the bottom of her shirt, and Ross moved forward to take her hand. "They'll be fine. The hard part is over."
Over? Why did Cara think that the challenges had only now begun?
Ross laced his fingers through hers. "You worry too much."
"I can't help it. I keep thinking that we should have taken things more slowly."
"To what end?"
"Maybe we should have let them get used to the idea of us marrying."
"We both agreed that it would be better to handle all of the changes at once and then settle them into a normal, reassuring routine."
"I know, but—"
Ross laid a finger over her mouth. "It's done. Don't worry so much about what could have happened, what should have happened. Life doesn't work that way."
She shivered when he bent toward her, his eyes darkening.
"Life rarely offers us any guarantees, only surprises," Ross whispered against her lips.
Then he was kissing her, his lips warm and intent, his body hard and warm. Cara moaned as the passion flared between them in the space of a heartbeat.
At least we have this, she thought. Their relationship might be unconventional, but they had the building blocks to make something more of it— mutual respect, a love for their children. And this...
Without even thinking, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rose on tiptoe, allowing him to kiss her again and again and again.
They might not have love.
But they did have this.
She held on to him more tightly, drawing from his strength. Would passion be enough? Could a marriage based on convenience really last?
"Yo! Ross!"
The shout caused them to break apart like guilty teenagers. Ross was the first to react. Raking his fingers through his hair, he called, "In here, Tony."
But when he looked at Cara, it was as if he was saying, "Later."
Later?
For what?
Chapter Nine
To Cara's infinite surprise, the pizza hadn't been delivered to their door by a teenage delivery boy but by a large Italian with a booming laugh.
"Paesano!"
"Tony, this is my wife, Cara. Cara, this is Tony Palermo, my daughters' godfather."
"Wife!" The burly man's surprise couldn't have been clearer. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting married?"
Cara was wondering the same thing. If this was the children's godfather, why hadn't he been invited to their wedding?
"We wanted to keep things simple and quiet, so we eloped this afternoon."
Tony's laughter boomed through the small room. "That explains why we weren't invited." He grinned at Cara. "My Graziella is a wonderful
woman and a heavenly cook, but she's a born gossip. If you give her a piece of news, she'll have it spread all over town in a heartbeat."
Tony set the insulated carriers down on the table and enfolded Cara in a quick hug.
"Congratulations to both of you!" As Tony released Cara, he pointed a finger in Ross's direction. "It looks like you finally took my advice and found a woman to brighten up the place."
Ross grimaced good-naturedly and began unloading the insulated bags.
"First thing you do, Cara, is slap a coat of paint on these walls."
Ahh, a soul mate. Evidently Cara wasn't the only one who found Ross's decorating austere.
"I take it you're a frequent visitor."
Laughing, Tony slapped Ross on the back. "She hasn't caught on to you yet, has she?" He winked at Cara. ' 'He and the twins give me a call at least three or four times a week. They don't much like the housekeeper's cooking, if the truth is known."
"Now, Tony," Ross protested.
Tony winked at Cara. "I come often enough to have my own key card to the security gate—and if that isn't a telling detail, I don't know what is. Even the housekeeper doesn't have one of those."
"Tony..."
Tony interrupted whatever Ross had been about
to say with another booming laugh. Then he began flipping box lids open to reveal the food he'd brought with him. The first box held a large pizza, smothered—not with goat cheese and pine nuts as she'd feared—but pepperoni, ham and sausage. A smaller container held a loaf of garlic bread, and yet another sack had a plastic bowl with a green salad tossed in vinaigrette.
As Cara settled into her seat, it was Tony who disappeared into the kitchen to return with plates, utensils and glasses. Ross soon followed with bottles of soft drinks, and all three of them sat around the table.
"So you and Ross are old friends?" Cara asked, her mood improving by the minute as the heavenly aromas promised her a real treat.
"He saved my life."
"Hardly."
Tony waved aside Ross's protest.
"He did. Honest."
"I merely handled your sister's divorce."
"And if you hadn't, I would have killed the bastard she'd married, so there you are. I would have been given a life sentence at the very least."
Tony grinned, watching as Cara took her first bite of pizza. The expression on her face must have been enough to convince him that she had never tasted anything better, because he continued.
"Since I'm the children's godfather, I drop by on a regular basis to make sure they're eating properly. Those little girls are the highlight of my day. But then, you probably know all about their antics, don't you, Cara?"
She paused while scooping a forkful of salad toward her mouth. "I've only met Ross's children once."
Tony's brows rose and some of his humor vanished. "Really? I would have thought—" He looked at Ross for an explanation.
"We were married rather suddenly. We haven't known each other for very long."
"How sudden was this courtship?"
"Less than a week."
Tony wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in astonishment. His gaze bounced from Ross to Cara, then back to his friend, and some of the joy disappeared beneath open curiosity.
"So what's the scoop?"
Ross looked at Cara before continuing, but she didn't object to having Tony know the truth. It would be best that those closest to them know everything from the beginning.
"Cara has a set of twins, as well."
Ross reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, removing the picture of his own twins and one
of Cara's. Then he set the two photographs in front of Tony.
"We thought a marriage between us might be the best solution."
Tony was speechless for several long minutes. Finally he lifted the pictures, squinting at one and then the other.
"I don't understand," he finally said.
"Neither do we. As near as we can tell the twins were switched sometime in the hospital."
"It's amazing." Tony looked up again. "You're not just pulling my leg, are you?"
Ross shook his head.
"So you decided to marry to take care of things?"
"It seemed the easiest way."
Tony took a deep breath and chuckled again. "Simpler, maybe, but I wouldn't say easy. No marriage is easy. It takes work. It always takes work."
He handed the pictures back to Ross, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the window. "Am I to assume that it's your marriage that's responsible for that mob at the gate?"
Ross shook his head. "Somehow they got word of the twins, but not
our marriage. Not yet, anyhow."
Tony rolled his eyes. "And here I was thinking
you must have got hired to handle another messy divorce."
Cara's eyes widened at the comment. No wonder Ross hadn't come unglued at the sight of the reporters still swarming around his front gates. Judging by Tony's words, the situation wasn't entirely new to Ross.
Which meant she had just inherited a similar relationship with the media, whether she liked it or not.
The edge of her hunger disappeared as Cara realized there was still so much she didn't know about her husband.
How many more surprises waited in the wings?
"Yep," Tony said, interrupting her thoughts, "a marriage takes work." Tony murmured again, more to himself than to Cara and Ross, "It always takes work."
A marriage takes work. It always takes work.
The words came back to haunt Cara when Tony eventually gathered the empty containers, offered Cara a huge bear hug, then drove away into the night amid the burps and groans of his ancient delivery van.
Cara sighed as she watched Tony disappear. The quiet evening gathered around her and she willed herself to stay relaxed. After all, the night sky was
filled with stars and the cool breeze brought with it the heady perfume of flowers from the garden.
But try as she might, Cara couldn't help feeling as if she'd been plunked down in the middle of Oz. She didn't belong here. She wasn't a woman who was comfortable with any display of ostentation. She'd tried that life and it hadn't worked. What made her think that she would be any better at it now?
"It's a beautiful night."
Ross's low comment slid over her like a silken caress.
"Yes. Yes, it's lovely."
It was their wedding night and the two of them had been left alone at this fairy-tale castle as if they were in need of a proper honeymoon.
The thought made her shiver, but not from the cool breeze. There had been no pretence offered with their marriage of convenience. So why had everyone insisted that they spend the evening alone like passionate newlyweds? She would have preferred having the children nearby. Noisy, boisterous, loving children. Maybe then it wouldn't have seemed so...lonely.
Twins times two! Page 9
