The Marriage Ultimatum

by Anne Marie Winston

  She laughed. “Just a little piece from underneath. Derek, you know how much hair I have. I’ll never even know it’s gone.”

  Oh, he knew exactly. Hadn’t he been having dreams of that moon-silvered mass of curls sliding over his body? Belatedly, he realized she was awaiting a response. “Uh, that would be terrific,” he said. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Her voice was brisk again. “See you in the morning.”

  She was as good as her word the following day, although he was disappointed that she didn’t linger a little longer. She was wearing jeans today with a T-shirt, but they weren’t the baggy pants she’d once worn. These hugged her curves and emphasized the length of her legs. The shirt, too, was different. He was used to seeing her in large, floppy shirts—this one fit her snugly.

  “Don’t you have to dress up a little for work?” he asked her.

  “Not today.” She jingled her car keys, clearly anxious to go. “I don’t have any appointments today and one of the kennel staff broke an arm yesterday, so until we find a temporary replacement, I may have to help out in the kennels.” She grinned. “One thing’s for sure—I’ll never get bored doing the same old thing at this job.”

  Her words bothered him. “I’m sorry if baby-sitting was—”

  “No, no,” she said in exasperation. “I wasn’t comparing the two. I only meant this is nothing like having a dry old accounting practice all day every day.”

  He felt better instantly, and as she walked back to her car, he couldn’t stop himself from checking out her back view. Damn. He shook his head, his good mood evaporating. She was going to have men all over her.

  Aside from thoughts of the way Kristin’s hair swayed just above her heart-shaped behind in the tight jeans, he had a good day at the clinic. When he went to pick up Mollie, the aide reported that she’d had a wonderful nap.

  They fell into a passable routine. Kristin called every few days to see how Mollie was and he knew from Mollie’s chatter that she was stopping by the day care, but he hadn’t seen her in almost two weeks, since she’d stopped to drop off a lock of her hair.

  God, he missed her. He missed the indulgent glances they used to share at Mollie’s antics. He missed coming home to a lighted house and a hot meal, but even more, he missed coming home to her warm smile and the lazy discussions they’d had over dinner. He missed drying dishes and ducking when she flicked a towel at him, he missed seeing the tender way she kissed Mollie’s temple, the way she always took the time to kneel and rub Sarge’s furry belly.

  It was ridiculous. He’d allowed himself to slide along after Deb’s death, had allowed Kristin to do far too much to hold his family together, had gotten far too accustomed to having her in his life. Now he hated being alone without adult companionship. Without female companionship, and one particular female at that.

  When the phone rang on the last Friday in June, he leaped for it, his spirits lifting as he glanced at the clock. Nine in the evening. Kristin usually called about this time to see how they were doing.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Can I stop over?”

  “Sure. Right now?” Sure! He’d love to see her.

  “Yes. I have something I need to talk to you about.” Her voice sobered him. She didn’t sound happy, and he racked his brain, wondering what was wrong. Had he done something to upset her?

  He had his answer in five minutes. He was watching for her car and he opened the door before she even got to the porch.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She stepped into the kitchen and she set down a large, handled file box. “I need your opinion on something.”

  “Sure.” He turned a chair backward and straddled it, facing her. “Sit down and talk to me.” He couldn’t prevent the smile that crept across his face. “It’s good to see you.”

  She smiled back. “It’s good to see you, too.” The moment lingered, but before it could turn into anything else, she shook herself and reached for the box of files she’d brought along. “I think we may have a problem at the sanctuary.”

  “What kind of problem?” He could probably deal with anything that came up. He was familiar with personnel issues, scheduling, all the things that went on in his office—

  “Derek,” she said, “I think something’s wrong with the budget numbers. There’s a discrepancy in the books.”

  “A discrepancy?” He knew all about balancing budgets, but so did she, so why would she come to him about something so mundane?

  “Missing money.” She swallowed, and as he realized she was upset, her words began to assume meaning.

  “As in, a deliberate discrepancy?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s hard to imagine that half a million dollars going missing is an accident.”

  “Half a million.” He was too shocked to conceal it. “Five hundred thousand dollars? Where’d it go?”

  “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be a discrepancy, would it?” Her voice was just the slightest bit sarcastic. Immediately, she said, “I’m sorry. I know how you feel. It’s difficult to believe. When I first found it, I went over every column of the books.” She tapped the stack of files in the box. “It went out, largely in small untraceable sums, but it never came back in again.”

  He still couldn’t grasp it. “Are you telling me you think Cathie took it?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” Her voice was anguished. “But that’s what it’s looking like.”

  “Good God.” He sat back, and a heavy silence fell. Finally, he stirred. “Well, what do we do? We can’t ask her,” he muttered.

  “No.” Kristin sounded close to tears. “But I absolutely don’t want any hint of this to get out and accusations to fly unless we’re completely certain that it’s really missing and that Cathie had something to do with it.” She sniffed. “She loved the sanctuary. I can’t believe she would embezzle from us.”

  “Kris, honey, don’t cry.” Without thinking, he rose from his chair and went to her, drawing her up and into his arms. “Let’s double-check everything. Maybe there’s some explanation you just missed. You know how it is when you’re too close to the numbers.”

  She nodded into his chest. “Maybe that’s it.” Her arms tightened around his waist. “Thanks. I knew you’d help.”

  “We’ll figure it out together,” he soothed. “You know you can come to me with anything.” She felt soft and feminine in his arms, her body warm and giving against his, and without letting himself think about whether or not it was wise or smart, he put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. “God, Kris, I’ve missed you so much.”

  And then her hands were sliding up into his hair and he set his lips on hers, his whole body coming alive to the feel of hers as he tightened his arms and pulled her more fully to him.

  Four

  It was the kind of kiss she’d dreamed of during countless lonely nights. Derek’s arms were around her, bringing her close enough to feel the contours of his strong male frame. One was wrapped around her waist, the other engulfed her shoulders and she could feel his large palms pressing against her back.

  She wasn’t short, but Derek made her feel tiny and fragile. His dark head blotted out the light as he bent to her and his shoulders seemed a mile wide. His arms and chest were hard and roped with muscle from both his weekly workouts and the hours he spent on the larger animals in his practice. In a town as small as Quartz Forge, a vet couldn’t be simply a small-animal vet or an avian vet. Derek handled all the animals, farm, pet and other, that came his way.

  His mouth—oh, dear heavens, his mouth! His kiss wasn’t tentative, though at first it was sweet and undemanding, his lips caressing and clinging, nibbling at her lower lip and gently sucking it into his mouth. But she wasn’t capable of hiding her feelings where he was concerned and when he recognized her response, he teased her lips apart and sought out her tongue, gently flirting with her until his kiss grew deep and sure, his tongue drawing hers into a ste
ady thrust and retreat that echoed the motions of his hips against hers.

  She’d run her fingers up the back of his neck when he’d first touched her. Now she spread them wide, cradling his skull as he bent her backward over one arm with the force of his kiss.

  His fingers flexed, kneading her waist and she hung in his arms as he melded their hips together. He was heavy and hard against her and she thrilled to the exquisite pleasure of knowing she was the woman who’d gotten him into such a state. Her own body was swollen, throbbing, driving her to move against him, to relieve the breath-stealing intense delight toward which she was steadily spiraling.

  But then she became aware of a change in position. Derek was lifting her more upright, and his mouth was gentling, slowing, the contained ferocity of his kisses giving way to calmer, lighter ones as he withdrew. He didn’t let her go completely, still loosely encircling her waist, and she allowed her hands to slide down to his chest, suddenly feeling a ridiculous but undeniable shyness, and she couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Kris?” His voice was husky and he cleared his throat.

  “Yes?” Slowly she lifted her head and made eye contact.

  He was smiling, a wry lopsided expression. “I, ah, don’t know what to say.”

  She dared a small smile of her own. “Let’s not say anything.”

  He sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath her hands. “I can’t do that, and you know it.”

  She sighed, too. “Mr. Have-It-All-Laid-Out. You’re right—you can’t do it.”

  A frown touched his face and his eyes clouded. “You know me so well….”

  “That bothers you?”

  He hesitated. “No.”

  “But you wish you hadn’t kissed me.” Her euphoria had fled. He didn’t have to say it; she read it in his eyes. Hurt sliced through her, even deeper than before. Now she knew what Heaven could be. Having it vanish right before her eyes was hell.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know!” He threw up his hands and moved away from her, pacing in the familiar way he always did when he was agitated. “I need some time to work out my feelings, to decide what to do—”

  “Don’t get yourself in a panic, Derek.” She kept her voice flat and even, containing tears through sheer willpower as she slid the files back into the box. “I’m not asking anything of you. Nothing has to change.”

  He stared at her, his face growing dark. “The hell it doesn’t.”

  “Don’t swear at me. I’m just trying to keep you from guilting yourself to death!” Now her voice was sharp with exasperation but doggone it, he was just so darn dense. “It was only a kiss.”

  “Was it?” He stepped forward as she backed toward the door, and suddenly he wasn’t safe, familiar Derek anymore. He was a stranger, a stranger with hot, exciting questions in his eyes, a man to whom she felt an overwhelming sexual attraction. He snagged the lapels of her blouse, and hauled her close to him again.

  They stared at each other for a moment, the silence thick and charged with tension.

  “Things have changed,” he said in a low, intense voice. “I just have to figure out what to do about you.”

  She hated the way he made her sound like a problem he had to take care of and her temper flared again. “There’s nothing to figure out,” she said, taking his wrists and tugging his hands away, aware that she was only free because he’d allowed it. “You don’t make decisions about how you feel. It just happens. Or it doesn’t.”

  She turned the doorknob but he put his hand on the door, holding it closed for a moment. “I need some time to think about you,” he said. “About us.”

  Her heart leaped, but she squashed the blossom of feeling. How could he not recognize what they had? What they could have? And why on earth did she want a man who had to think before deciding how he felt about her?

  “There is no us,” she said, “and if you imagine I’m going to sit home waiting while you dissect your feelings and decide whether or not I might be allowed to fit into your life, you are seriously mistaken.” Her voice was shaking and tears were threatening to spill as she wrestled the door out of his hand and escaped into the night.

  Another week passed and the Fourth of July loomed.

  Derek was dreading the holiday this year. He and Deb and Kristin had gone to the fireworks together ever since they’d known each other, and after Deb died, they’d kept the tradition going for Mollie. Last year, they’d taken a picnic meal in to the school across from the field where the fireworks display was held. They’d gotten a good spot high on the hill, played with water pistols and read stories until dusk, and then laid on their backs on the blanket—with Mollie between them—and watched the celebration.

  This year, who knew how the evening would go?

  He hadn’t talked to Kristin since she’d slammed out of his house last week after that kiss that had turned his world upside down. She hadn’t called for advice or support on her concerns about the money problem at the shelter, and she hadn’t even called in the evening to see how Mollie was. The day-care ladies told him she’d been in several times to have lunch or read a story to Mollie, so at least he knew she hadn’t abandoned both of them.

  Day care. It was going well and after that first disastrous day the transition hadn’t been as bad as he’d anticipated. But it still wasn’t working very well. They liked the children to be picked up by five-thirty. Six o’clock was the latest they would stretch, and those hours just didn’t work for him. The clinic was open two nights a week until seven, which meant he wasn’t done until seven-thirty at the very earliest.

  When Kristin had kept Mollie, she had gone ahead and fed his daughter earlier and then eaten with him while they talked about their days and Mollie played around the kitchen. Now, he had to have Faye or Sandy run over and pick up Mollie and keep her at the clinic until he was done. They fed her snacks to keep her from getting cranky, so by the time he could get her home and fix dinner, she wasn’t hungry anymore. And she usually was cranky anyway.

  No, it wasn’t working very well. He needed flexibility. And he was beginning to fully appreciate just how flexible his arrangement with Kristin had been. He’d advertised for a nanny and had three people to interview over the next few days, but even with that, he doubted he was going to be completely satisfied with the new arrangement. Kris had made his life so easy she’d spoiled him for anyone else.

  He eyed the phone. It was the second of July already, and he’d been waiting for Kristin to call to firm up their plans for the Fourth. But she hadn’t called, and he had the feeling she wasn’t going to. Well, he could afford to be generous, he decided, picking up the receiver. He wasn’t the one who’d stalked off in a huff.

  And what the heck had that been all about anyway? He hadn’t stopped thinking about that kiss all week. Or his reaction to it. Or the way she’d reacted, winding herself around him like a living vine, opening herself completely to his kiss.

  His heartbeat doubled merely thinking about it. God, she’d been sweet. He’d wanted to crawl into her caresses, to drown in the sensations she’d aroused, to bury himself inside her so deep there was no telling where he left off and she began. He’d never before allowed himself to think like that, to fantasize about the shape of her breasts or the feel of her slender legs locked around his hips, and it had been so disconcerting he’d had to stop kissing her. And then he’d started thinking about how she’d grown up practically before his eyes, and then he wondered what Deb would have thought of him kissing Kris…and then he’d been dumb enough to tell her he needed time to figure out their relationship.

  He could almost smile about it if he didn’t miss her so much. She should have been born a redhead, because it sure didn’t take much to set fire to her temper.

  He started to punch in her number, then stopped. He’d better decide what he wanted to say, or he was liable to have her jumping down his throat again. I still don’t know what to say to you but I’d like to spend more time with you. I miss you.

  It was
that simple. And it was honest. He had a feeling honesty was the only way to go with her.

  Decisive now, he did call, and when she answered, he was ready. “Hey, Kris. How are you?”

  “Fine.” She sounded…cautious. “How about you and Mollie?”

  “Mollie’s fine.” He could talk to her about his day-care problems on the Fourth. “I’m not so fine. I miss you.”

  She was silent. Finally she said, “I know it’s really different now that I’m not around as much. It’ll get easier.”

  It wasn’t exactly the response he realized he’d been hoping for. “I don’t mean I miss your help with Mollie,” he clarified. “I miss you. And that’s why I’m calling. What time do you want me to pick you up on the Fourth? I thought it might be nice to do the picnic thing again. That was fun last year.”

  He heard her catch her breath, and she was silent for a moment. “Um, Derek, I can’t get together with you and Mollie this year.”

  Now it was his turn to be silent. “Look, Kris, I’m sorry for upsetting you the other night—”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not that. If I were free I’d be glad to come with you. But I already have a date.”

  She had a date. A date? He completely forgot what she said about being glad to go along. “With who?”

  “No one you know.” Her voice sounded pleasant but firm. “He’s a new member of the church.”

  The church that he, Derek, attended on Christmas and Easter while she had taken Mollie to Sunday school all year long. Until recently. “Oh.” He wondered if he sounded as shaken as he felt. “Well, maybe we’ll see you there.”

  “Maybe.” Her voice was cheery. “Give Mollie a kiss for me.”

  “I will.” What he really wanted was for Kris to give him another kiss. But that was looking less and less likely as her words sank in. After another lame exchange of small talk, he hung up—and threw the phone against the wall in a rare display of temper that even he hadn’t been prepared for.

  “Dammit!” He flopped down on the couch and drummed his fingers on his knees. Alarm bells began to ring in his head. What an ass he was. Here he’d been, thinking nonstop of himself and how a relationship with Kristin would affect him.