Betrayed by Trust

by Frankie Robertson

  While Jill’s coloring was the same as Dan’s, her eyes were blue instead of brown. It was a striking combination. She smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Welcome to the circus!”

  “Unka Dan!”

  The man who would be the father to my child turned his full attention on the youngster who had thrown his arms around his neck. “Timmy! My man!”

  “Let’s mow!”

  “Okay, buddy. Let’s go.” Dan and Tim and Sam disappeared into the house.

  Jill and I followed more slowly. “Mow?” That wasn’t what I expected a three-year-old to think of as an exciting pastime. Anyone, for that matter.

  Jill laughed. “That’s Dan’s fault. Last time he was at our place the grass was shaggy and Sam was out of town. Dan got out the old reel mower, and then he caught Tim reaching into the blades. He demonstrated with a hotdog how Timmy’s fingers could get cut off doing that.”

  “Wow. I bet that made quite an impression.”

  “Oh, yeah. Tim’s been very careful around the mower ever since then. But he wants Sam to cut up a hotdog every time he mows now.”

  “Good thing Dan bought a reel mower and some hotdogs.”

  Jill gave me a searching look. “You think he didn’t plan that?”

  That was just the sort of thing he would plan for. Both for his nephew and, eventually, for my child. Our child. That was a slip I couldn’t afford to make aloud. “Good point. He does tend to think three steps ahead.”

  Jill nodded as if I’d said the right thing. “Welcome to the family.” Her tone was full of warmth.

  “Thanks.” Dan’s sister wasn’t being the dragon I’d feared, but I was pretty sure she would be if she thought Dan was being taken advantage of. “I hope we can be friends.”

  She grew serious. “I really mean it. I thought at first you’d trapped Dan into marrying you. Everything was so sudden; we were taken a little off guard.”

  I didn’t blame Jill for bringing this up. Our marriage was sudden, and she clearly loved her “little” brother. I tried to give her what reassurance I could. “I guess it is rather sudden, but we knew we were right for each other from the start. We were about to tell you we were engaged when I found out I was expecting.”

  She waved her hand. “That doesn’t matter now. I’m over my shock, and I’ve changed my mind.” She smiled. “I think you’re good for him.”

  That took me off guard. “You do?”

  She nodded. “Dan’s been … quiet … since he got out of the Army. But then he called with your news about the wedding, and the baby, and he’s been … lighter. More energized. I’m just glad for him. And grateful you found each other.”

  Unexpectedly, I felt myself tearing up. I was grateful for Jill’s welcome, and I envied the affection she shared with Dan. I’d had that once with Mark.

  “What?” Jill asked. “No tears!”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I dabbed at my eyes.

  “It’s just nerves. Every bride gets them. And hormones. Try not to worry. Everything will go great, you’ll see. Sam and I will help. And whatever doesn’t go the way you plan will make for great family stories ten years from now.”

  I choked on a laugh. We’d have a family story, all right, but not one we’d ever be able to tell.

  Two days later, the heavy rumble of a motorcycle should have alerted me, but I was too busy discussing with my mom, Jill, and Janna where the flowered arch needed to go in the back yard to pay much attention. The men were staying well away from the discussion. A few moments later, Dan’s warm hand pulled me around.

  “Marianne, this is my friend Ringo.”

  Jill and Mom fell silent. Janna craned her neck to look up at him and said, “Oh, my.”

  Dan hadn’t warned me what to expect. Oh, he’d told me he and Ringo had served together in southeast Asia and that they’d covered each other’s ass, both in combat and on R&R, but he hadn’t gone into detail about the guy or what they’d done. I guess I’d pictured someone who looked pretty much like Dan.

  I took a step back, bumping into my groom’s chest, craning my gaze upward. Robert “Ringo” Starkinski was taller than any man I’d ever stood next to, and every inch of him was muscle. Black curly hair fell to his shoulders and his Fu Manchu mustache was almost as long. His open leather vest exposed a broad expanse of hairy chest. I wasn’t sure how to greet this mountain of furry maleness, especially since I only came up to his nipples.

  Dan squeezed my shoulder and I rallied. I put on my best smile and said, “Honey, would you get me a box to stand on so I can say hello to your friend?”

  “Marianne!” My mother exclaimed.

  Ringo burst out laughing.

  I held out my arms to Dan’s best man. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  Ringo patted my back in the overly gentle way a lot of big men have when dealing with women. A gentleness I was grateful for, since his hand almost covered my entire back.

  “How could I miss seeing Danny-boy get shackled?” he said.

  My mother immediately put Ringo to work, having him move the flowered arch exactly where she wanted it.

  Once everything was arranged to her satisfaction, Mom put us through our paces, practicing the ceremony. The reality of what we were getting ready to do struck me hard as the minister described what he’d say the next day, and our expected responses. Over the last few weeks we’d been so busy planning and arranging, there hadn’t been any time for reflection, let alone the usual pre-wedding counseling sessions. Given that ours was something of an arranged marriage, I hadn’t felt the lack. There still was no time for introspection, and the day was almost upon us. I was about to marry a man not because we’d fallen in love, but as part of a secret mission to thwart an evil organization and save an Elemental wolf spirit from slavery. Not exactly what every girl dreams of for her wedding day. The situation was surreal.

  Instinctively, I looked to Dan for reassurance. When my gaze met his, he smiled and squeezed my hands. With that small gesture the world steadied again, and I knew I could follow through.

  A few hours later, Ringo was seated on my left at the rehearsal dinner.

  Jill and Sam had picked a steak house. It was a good choice. By the end of the meal everyone was nice and relaxed, thanks to the beer and wine. Everyone except me, of course.

  Ringo contributed to the conversation in a deep, rumbly voice, occasionally telling stories about himself and Dan. He was careful not to crowd me, but I felt him watching me closely, though I never caught him staring. He drank plenty, along with everyone else, but never acted drunk, and when I got up to use the ladies room, he even stood and pulled out my chair for me.

  When I came out of the restroom, Ringo was waiting for me.

  “Come with me.” His massive hand steered me into the bar, away from the private room where our party was. “Are you pregnant, or an alcoholic?”

  Apparently he’d noticed I was toasting with iced tea. I was surprised Dan hadn’t told him we were expecting. “Pregnant.”

  Ringo nodded. “I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not. I’ve been watching you—”

  “I know.”

  “You don’t love him.”

  I’m sure my surprise must have shown on my face, but Ringo plowed on. “But he loves you.”

  Dan loves me? Surprise jumbled my thoughts.

  “Are you just marrying him so you’ll have a father for your kid?”

  Ringo’s question was a little too close to the truth.

  “What makes you think I don’t love him?” I countered.

  “I’ve got eyes.”

  “Well, you’re wrong.”

  Ringo dismissed my protest with a slight shake of his head. He glanced at my still flat belly. “Is it even his?”

  Dan’s friend was way too perceptive. A good trait to have in a wingman—not so good when you want to hide something. Ringo was half again as tall as me and twice as wide, but I was angry now. “You’re a real son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?�
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  “Dan saved my life over there. If it wasn’t for him—” He shook his head and clamped his mouth shut on whatever he’d been about to say. “Normally, I’d say a man is entitled to screw whoever or whatever he wants, but Dan doesn’t do things by halves. Call off the wedding. Getting married is a big deal for him. He’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to be used.”

  I didn’t like that Ringo thought I was the kind of woman who would trick a man into marriage, someone who would use Dan that way.

  “I thought you were his friend,” I said sharply.

  His eyes widened at my counter-attack.

  “Dan’s a smart guy,” I said. “Too smart to be taken in the way you’re suggesting.”

  “Every man is stupid when he’s in love.”

  There was that word again. Love. Something warm fluttered in my chest at the idea that Dan might be in love with me. Or maybe it was morning sickness.

  “Dan isn’t a fool, and I didn’t trick him into anything. He knows what the score is, and he knows how I feel about him. But if you’re so worried, why don’t you talk to him, and tell him that you think I’m a two-timing slut?”

  I started to leave, but Ringo put his huge hands on my shoulders, stopping me. His fingers tightened ever so slightly, but the intensity of his gaze told me how much he was holding back. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t hurt me. He wanted to stay Dan’s friend. We were in a public place. That didn’t stop my palms from sweating.

  “I know better than to try to talk him out of this.” Ringo said. “He wouldn’t listen. But I’m telling you: don’t hurt him.” He gave me a tiny shake.

  A jolt of fear ricocheted down to my toes. His voice was soft, but he didn’t need to shout to make his warning crystal clear.

  He released me so abruptly I had to take a little step to regain my balance. He left without saying another word.

  I sat down at an empty table. My hands were shaking. I needed a minute to recover, or Dan would ask questions I didn’t want to answer. I had a feeling he’d see right through me if I tried to lie to him. Ringo might be a bastard, but he had Dan’s best interests at heart. I didn’t want to do anything to hurt their friendship, even if I never wanted to see Ringo again.

  The marine layer had burned off hours before the ceremony was scheduled. Most of our guests had arrived and were mingling in the backyard, waiting for the festivities to begin. I was still in the bedroom, letting Janna adjust the flowers in my hair. Everything else, the flowers, the chairs, the music, was ready to go.

  The nice thing about throwing together a wedding on short notice with the help of your employer’s staff is that it makes you look like a genius. Kincaid had put Betina to work as soon as the engagement was official. After quizzing Dan and me for our preferences and conferring with my mother, she’d pulled together the invitations, caterers, party supplies, and a minister. All I had to do was pick the cake and flowers, and show up.

  I’d found the perfect dress, with Mom and Janna’s help. I wasn’t showing yet, so I’d chosen a slim ivory sheath with a sweetheart neckline that flared out gently from the hips. A matching lace bolero covered my shoulders. I’d decided to forego the traditional veil, and instead had a white gardenia pinned in my upswept hair, echoing the flowers in my bouquet.

  I gazed at my reflection in my bedroom mirror. I looked like a bride. I was a bride. This is really happening. My hands started shaking and I clenched my fists.

  The enormity of the choice I’d made ten weeks ago had been pressing closer around me for days. Most of the time I’d been too busy keeping up the appearance of a happy bride to reflect on the consequences of what I was doing. Now it came crashing down with full force. I was committed.

  Ringo’s warning echoed in my mind. In fact, I’d thought of little else the rest of the night, even during my bachelorette party. Janna had whisked me away early from the rehearsal dinner. She’d reserved round-trip tickets for the one hour flight to Las Vegas for herself, Betina, Kalisa, and me to see the new Chippendale show, and because I was a bride-to-be the dancers had singled me out for extra attention. The guys were gorgeous, but the in-my-face sexuality had made me uncomfortable, and since I’d had to stay sober, my thoughts had returned over and over again to Ringo’s words. Was I being selfish, marrying Dan?

  It was too late for me to change my mind, but it wasn’t too late for Dan. I might have booked a one-way ticket on the crazy train to parenthood, but Dan could still get off. Maybe Ringo had the right idea. Dan had said he was in for the duration, but we could still call this off.

  “You’re perfect,” Janna said, gazing over my shoulder at our reflection.

  A gentle tap sounded at the door of the dressing room. Janna opened it to my father.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  He just stood there at the threshold for a moment, blinking away moisture. “You look as beautiful as your mother did the day we got married.”

  I started to tear up. “Oh, Dad.”

  “None of that, now.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. “Crying is your mother’s job. She’s got three hankies in her purse.”

  I laughed.

  “That’s better.” He smiled.

  It would be so much easier to just go forward with everything as planned, to do what was expected, but I couldn’t. Not without being sure. “Dad, I need to talk to Dan before we do this.”

  “But it’s bad luck!” Janna exclaimed.

  Dad looked me in the eye, steady and reassuring. “It’s normal to have cold feet, sweetie—”

  “It’s not that—”

  “—but whatever you decide, your mother and I will support you.”

  I just nodded, choked up again.

  “I’ll go get him.” Dad left, and Janna erupted.

  “What’s going on? You’re not dumping him at the altar, are you? I know you’ve only known him a couple of months, but he’s really into you. He’s a great guy! Are you—”

  “Janna, give us the room, will you, please?” Dan stood there, dressed in a dark blue, three-piece suit, a small white rose pinned to his wide lapel. His shoulders almost filled the doorway.

  Janna closed her mouth with an almost audible snap, and left without saying another word.

  Dan shut the door with a quiet click and turned to face me. He was clear-eyed and sober. Apparently Ringo and his other friends hadn’t gotten him wasted last night at his bachelor party. That would make this conversation easier.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said without preamble. “You can still walk away.”

  “I could,” he agreed, the ghost of a smile haunted his lips. “But I don’t want to.”

  Light flooded into my heart at his words, but I tamped down the feeling. He was just following through on his promise. A promise I didn’t want to hold him to, if he was having second thoughts.

  Dan’s expression went still. “Do you?”

  I wrapped my arms tightly around my waist, as if I could hold myself together that way. “No. But I don’t want to ruin your life, either.”

  Dan looked at me as if I was speaking Swahili. “Where did you get an asinine idea like that?” He held up a hand. “Never mind. I can guess: Ringo.” Dan came over and pulled my arms free, taking both my hands in his. His fingers felt warm and strong. “Ringo’s a good guy. The best. There’s no man I’d rather have watching my back, but he’s out of line on this.” Dan squeezed my fingers. “Unless you back out, in about two minutes I’m going to marry you, because I want to. Then we’re going to dance until the stars come out, and push cake into each other’s faces, and then I’m going to whisk you away to the Town and Country where I’ll ravish you until the sun comes up. Do you have a problem with that?”

  My mind focused on one point. “You’re going to ravish me?”

  “Repeatedly. Unless you’re wimping out on me. Are you?”

  I’d been wanting to be with Dan for the last four weeks. I shook my head and smiled. “Never say I didn’t give you
a chance.”

  “Never,” he said, grinning back.

  Our room at the Town and Country Resort was on the top floor of one of several towers that populated the garden-strewn grounds. The carpet was plush, the detailed moldings pristine white, and the furniture dark, rich mahogany. French doors that opened onto a balcony took up one wall, a wide, four-posted bed took up another. A bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket. Two glasses waited on the table beside a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries. The resort was less than half an hour from our house, but it was world away from the happy chaos of wedding guests, music, and congratulations we’d just escaped.

  “Did you arrange all this?” I asked after Dan tipped and dismissed the bellman.

  Dan inclined his head. “I asked your doc if a little champagne would be okay. He said a sip or two wouldn’t hurt.”

  That was like Dan, always planning ahead. I smiled and slipped off my shoes. The plush carpet felt wonderful under my toes after an evening of dancing on the patio.

  Dan slung his jacket over the back of a chair, then loosened his tie. He unfastened the top buttons of his shirt with quick twists of his fingers. Dark hair peeked out from the opening. I watched, fascinated by his easy movements as he unbuttoned his vest and tossed it over his coat.

  “Would you like the show better if I did this to music?” His eyes twinkled. Apparently Janna had bragged about our visit to Chippendales.

  I leaned back against the table, affecting a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “That can be arranged.” I turned on the radio, then waved my hand. “Carry on.”

  By chance, the song playing was the Pointer Sisters’ “Fire.” He grinned, then turned his back on me. Swaying in time to the music, a moment later he let his shirt slide slowly down his arms, revealing a muscled back that his tight T-shirt did little to conceal. He twirled the shirt over his head, then flung it into the corner. I couldn’t stop my surprised giggle. A moment later his tee quickly joined his shirt.

  My hands itched with wanting to feel the muscles that rippled under his tanned skin. “Whoo-ee!” I exclaimed softly. “Take it off.”