WARRIOR'S BRIDE

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WARRIOR'S BRIDE Page 17

by Nina Bruhns


  "But you said she can't breathe!"

  "I know, let me—"

  "I have to do some—"

  "Cole, please! Move aside!" Katarina put a hand on his biceps and pushed him out of her way, none too gently. She had to hurry, Julia was already unnaturally pale. Rushing to the back of her chair, she put her arms around her mother-in-law's chest, linking her hands just under the ribs. Then she gave a big pull, trying to force the air out of Julia's lungs, bringing the obstruction with it.

  It didn't work! She could feel Julia starting to slump from lack of oxygen.

  Once more she pulled with all her might. There was a pop and a wheezing sound, and suddenly Julia sputtered and was racked with coughs, sucking in air, tears streaming from her eyes.

  Thank God!

  Julia gave a final cough and groaned, but finally responded to Cole's frantic queries. "I'm fine. Thanks to Rini."

  "You did it!" Cole's eyes met Katarina's as he held his mom, respect and profound gratitude shining through. "You saved her life!"

  She smiled self-consciously. "All in a day's work for a nurse."

  Once Julia's breathing was back to normal, they helped her to the couch and urged her to lie down, then Ted called the paramedics.

  "Rini? Thank you." Her mother-in-law's voice was raw and full of emotion. "I was so frightened. I was so sure I was going to die. I couldn't breathe and—"

  "It's over now. You're fine." Katarina put her hand on Julia's and gave her a reassuring smile to stem the horror in the older woman's eyes. "Rest now."

  Cole pulled her up into his embrace. He clung to her, his hands kneading her back. "I nearly lost it there. Thanks for taking over."

  She hugged him back. "I'm just glad I could do something. Sorry I pushed you."

  "Are you kidding? I was about to make things worse. Don't ever worry about my reaction. You just do what you have to do. I trust your judgment, Rini. I trust it with my life." He sighed as he watched his parents over her shoulder.

  Tears came to her eyes from the sudden release of stress and because of his words. He trusted her decisions. She held him tightly, happiness and relief coursing through her body. It was like an enormous stone had been lifted from her whole being. He had actually said he trusted her choices.

  * * *

  A few days later, Cole sat with his ex-wife in a small restaurant. She'd wanted to meet to discuss Jeff, but Cole figured it was more to torment him.

  "Tell me what you've done about the boy," she demanded.

  Cole drove his fingers through his hair and tugged hard on the strands to prevent himself from grabbing her by the neck over the table between them and squeezing.

  "These things take time, Lindsay. It's not like I can just stroll up to every Indian guy you ever slept with and make him take a DNA test. I'm working on it in my own way."

  "I need results. I can't risk having the boy show up on my doorstep at an inopportune moment, asking questions."

  Cole sighed at her unmotherly attitude. "Jeff's a good kid, Lindsay. You should accept him. Let him into your life."

  She snorted. "Like you accepted your own mother?"

  He sliced her a deadly look.

  Her lips thinned. "It's best this way. For everyone. And he doesn't seem to care, anyway."

  Cole crossed his arms over his chest. "He cares. Believe me, your son cares." He knew he was fighting a losing battle. "Look, I'm doing what I can. Be patient."

  She tossed back the last of her wine and stood. She leaned over and put an arm around his neck, giving him a bitchy smile. "Yes, dear." She kissed his cheek, nearly choking him with her cloying perfume, then flounced out of the restaurant. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand in disgust. And decided if she called him again making demands, he'd cheerfully wring her snooty little neck.

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Katarina caught Cole silently watching her at the strangest times—while she fed Chance, as he had been doing from the beginning, but also when she washed dishes, pored over her textbooks or weeded the garden. She'd look up and there he'd sit, chin in hand, a finger saving his place in the legal papers spread before him, or a strip of leather and an awl resting on his knee.

  She would give him a little smile and suddenly he'd realize what he was doing. He'd grin back sheepishly and pretend to resume whatever project he was working on. But usually when he was in one of those moods, she'd look up five minutes later and he'd be back at it. It was kind of cute.

  It made her think maybe she had a chance with him. That maybe he was beginning to fall in love with her, after all. The thought warmed her to the furthest reaches of her heart. Soon, she thought. Soon.

  She no longer searched to find things to do that would please him. After his heartfelt words about her saving Julia's life, she had realized to her chagrin what she'd been doing since the wedding. In her anxiety over their uncertain relationship, she'd lapsed back into the old pattern of seeking approval.

  One of these days she hoped with all her heart that his feelings would progress from affection to love. That he would tell her he loved her, so they could truly be husband and wife. But until that happened, she vowed not to push herself, or him. Love couldn't be hurried, no matter how much one longed for it.

  Humming a little tune, she put the finishing touches on a snack tray she planned to carry out to Cole. She glanced up through the kitchen window, catching sight of him leaning under the hood of her old, beat-up compact. The driveway around it was scattered with tools and bottles of various automotive fluids.

  Shirtless and wearing jeans with more holes than fabric, Cole's burnished body presented a delectable sight in the warm afternoon sunshine. She'd never quite gotten used to the capricious California weather, but at the moment she was enjoying its benefits to the fullest.

  She checked on Chance, asleep in a bassinet in the living room. Then, sticking sprigs of fresh mint from the garden into two tall paper cups of iced tea, she picked up the tray and headed for the backyard.

  Cole was now lying on his back on an ancient blanket under the engine. She put the tray on the grass near the driveway and sat down next to it. She knew better than to disturb him in the middle of some intricate maneuver under there. She'd learned restraint at an early age when her father had ended up with a face full of motor oil after she'd inadvertently startled him once. She grinned at the memory. Boy, had he been mad. But they'd ended up rolling on the grass in fits of laughter in the end, both covered in oil. Her mother, of course, had put an end to that bit of dirty nonsense.

  Katarina had a great view of Cole's legs. Long and athletic under his bleached-out jeans, bent knees sloping to bare feet, they invited her glance to linger. The distinctive odor of motor oil mingled with the earth, scents of early spring and the tang of fresh strawberries. She sighed as she let her gaze wander slowly up Cole's body, caressing every inch of compact muscle as it went, until his lean, bare torso disappeared behind the jacked up wheel of her car.

  The waistband of his jeans rode low on his narrow hips; his concave belly gleamed with sweat and a light spattering of grease. Lazily allowing her gaze to ride those hips awhile, she smiled to herself and popped a grape from the tray into her mouth. This was just what she'd always thought marriage would be like.

  Except for that one small detail…

  "You want me to take them off?"

  She started at the sound of Cole's chuckle coming from under the car. "What?"

  "My jeans. You want me to take them off? Seems like it might make all that fantasizing you're doing a whole lot easier."

  Her face blazed in the warm sun. Oh, brother, caught redhanded. Or rather, red faced. His pirate's grin taunted her from around the front of the tire. She launched a grape at the cocky bastard.

  "Ow!" He rubbed the spot on his thigh where it had bounced off. "Good thing your aim is off."

  She stuck out her tongue. "Says who? That was just a warning shot."

  "What was it, anyhow?"

&nbs
p; "Grape. I brought refreshments."

  "What a charming and delightful wife I have."

  "Thank you."

  "When she's not armed and dangerous." He slid out from under the car and sprawled on the ground on the other side of the tray, accepting the cup she offered him. "Paper?"

  "So you don't have to wash your hands. My dad always hated interrupting his projects to clean up for a snack. So we worked out this system."

  She followed his approving eyes as they traveled over the tray of grapes and early strawberries, cheese cubes and bread sticks, along with the small pile of toothpicks next to them.

  "Toothpicks. Good idea. But what about the bread sticks?" His brow quirked.

  "My dad used to smoke cigars. He'd just chomp on the bread sticks like stogies."

  Cole nodded, watching her carefully. "Used to?"

  Tamping down a quick sting of pain in her heart, she dropped her gaze to her hands. "He died of throat cancer while I was in college."

  "I'm sorry." Cole sipped his tea, and a light, warm wind ruffled her hair. "You loved him very much." It wasn't a question. More like a quiet observation.

  Sighing, she lay back on the springy grass and reached for a handful of cheese cubes. "Yeah—and the best part was he loved me back."

  The apricot and plum trees that ringed the lawn were just breaking out in fragrant blossom, and the flowers shimmered in the breeze. Occasionally, one of the petals broke loose and floated slowly down to the lush grass. Katarina pulled in a big lungful of springtime.

  "That's how I know," she murmured.

  How she knew it was possible for a man to love her. Her father had never had a problem saying "I love you." The memory of his loving looks and hugs made her want to hold out for the real thing, even while it was breaking her heart to do so.

  "How you know what?"

  She glanced at Cole, who had rolled onto his stomach and lay with his chin on his arms, gazing out over the back garden, a toothpick hanging from his mouth.

  "How I know to use paper cups," she said, covering her unwitting slip.

  He glanced over but didn't challenge her. Instead, he went back to his survey of the budding perennials.

  She studied his profile—the aristocratic nose, high angular cheekbones, square jaw and full, sensual lips. She watched as he sucked on the end of the toothpick, her imagination suddenly working overtime.

  The ample muscles in his broad shoulders bunched and shifted as he reached for a bread stick, pulling the pick from his mouth. Closing her eyes, she had visions of those bronze shoulders hovering naked above hers, the corded muscles of his biceps working in an ancient rhythm as he moved over her. For the first time she saw the attraction of having mirrors over a bed. She had to stifle a groan.

  Her eyes shot wide-open, she was so horrified at her errant thoughts. She grabbed her iced tea and gulped down half of it.

  Cole's wicked chuckle drifted over the lawn. "What's the matter, darlin'? Gettin' too hot for you?" He sat up and tossed a couple of grapes into his mouth. In a supple movement he rose to his feet, then lithely, leisurely, stretched his body like a magnificent giant cat. A black-haired puma, the beautiful, dangerous mountain lion that roamed the arid hills of his native southern California.

  She stared in fascination, holding her breath when it appeared that the loose waistband of his jeans would slide down over his slim hips and keep going.

  "No such luck, babe," he teased, as if he could read her thoughts, "they seem to be caught on something."

  She drew herself up, barely able to keep a straight face. "I can't imagine what you're talking about."

  "Oh, you can imagine plenty, I'd wager." Arms folded across his powerful chest, he strolled over and stood before her. "The six weeks are nearly up, you know. After that I'm available anytime."

  "In your dreams, hombre. Remember our agreement."

  "I remember." His gaze was lit with a hunger that shook her. "But I've also seen the way you look at me."

  She swallowed heavily.

  Kneeling down, he leaned over and brushed his lips across hers. Just a whisper of a touch, light as the breeze soughing through the blossoms overhead. She shivered.

  "I still want you," he said, his voice low and sultry. She closed her eyes, expecting his lips to come crashing down on hers. When they didn't, she swayed imperceptibly toward him. He smelled of fresh grass and oil and grapes and Cole. She breathed in, savoring his nearness.

  "You want me," he murmured.

  The words tumbled softly over her hair and into her ears. She could feel his hot breath slide down the front of her dress, curling between her breasts. His finger traced a lazy path along her jaw. She realized she was trembling like a leaf.

  "Open your eyes, Rini."

  She obeyed, looking up into the liquid midnight of his. "Admit it to yourself, if not to me." Again he brushed his velvet lips over hers, tenderly, longingly. Seductively. When he reached the corner of her mouth he increased the pressure just a shade, pressing a wisp of a kiss into her imagination. He whispered, "You want me, Fire Eyes."

  * * *

  You want me, Fire Eyes.

  Katarina still shivered at the memory of him whispering those words seductively in her ear over two weeks ago.

  She leaned heavily against the bathroom sink and contemplated her face in the mirror. Panic. That's what she saw. Pure, unadulterated terror.

  It had been nearly six weeks since Chance's birth.

  Cole had been a model of decorum, but she could see impatience in his eyes now, every time he looked at her. He was counting the days just as diligently as she was. But for entirely different reasons.

  What would she do?

  "Rini! Have you fallen in or what?" Alex's voice held mostly pique and only the barest hint of concern.

  Katarina opened the door and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

  "What is with you, anyway? You've been acting weird all afternoon, and I know it's not the wine. You've hardly touched yours."

  She'd touched it just enough to blurt out in response, "It's Cole. He wants sex."

  Alex's brow rose, and she smiled mischievously. "Imagine that. When does the doctor say it's okay?"

  Katarina let out an exasperated breath and led Alex back to the living room. "No, you don't understand."

  "So tell." Her sister flopped down on the sofa. Reluctant to talk, but knowing she had to confide in someone or go nuts, Katarina leaned back against the cool brick of the fireplace. "We haven't had sex since Chance was—"

  "Born. Right. I understand that's standard procedure."

  "No. Since Chance was conceived."

  "What!" Alex's eyes were the size of saucers. "But you're married! Why on earth not?"

  "And now I'm afraid I'm going to give in to him, and I don't know what to do."

  "Give in?" Alex refilled her wineglass and sank back against the sofa, taking a long swallow. "Rini," she said in a deadly calm voice. "Are you out of your mind?"

  "I know I should stick to my principles, but he's just so damned … sexy."

  "Principles?" Alex groaned, speaking to the floor lamp across room. "She's married to the hunk of the western world and she doesn't let him touch her."

  Katarina looked up sharply. She'd noticed her sister's thaw toward Cole since the baby's birth, but until now Alex had never actually said anything to indicate her change of heart. "Since when are you on his side?"

  "I know I thought he was scum-eating slime when I first met him, but I'm not too proud to admit I was wrong." She met Katarina's gaze directly. "I've seen how he treats you. He's a guy most women would kill to have. He's smart, good-looking, kind, generous, and he changes diapers."

  "He had Obsession perfume on his shirt when he came home last week."

  Alex looked up. Katarina knew exactly what she was thinking, but, to her credit, she didn't say it. Since discovering David's chronic infidelities, Katarina was prone to jealousy and suspicion at the least provocation. With David it had been deserve
d. With Cole her jealousy had cost her months of suffering, at the very least, and had nearly cost her her baby's father and her happiness.

  "Attorneys' clients have been known to wear perfume now and then," Alex said comfortingly.

  Katarina fiddled with a fingernail, a stubborn pout on her lips. "Anyway. He doesn't love me."

  "Oh, honey. Give him a chance."

  She couldn't even smile at the unintended pun. "Oh, Alex, I have!"

  Tears of frustration spilled over her eyelashes. "I tried everything. I cooked his favorite meals, kept the house spotless, decorated it the way he likes. I even typed his stupid papers when Charlie was out sick."

  Alex sighed. "Never worked with Mother, either, did it?"

  Katarina scowled into her lap.

  "Maybe Cole doesn't want a housekeeper or a secretary. Maybe he wants a wife. A companion… Sex."

  Katarina looked up and wiped her eyes determinedly. "I want him to love me first."

  Her sister stretched out her arms to her. "Maybe he does. Maybe he just has a hard time saying it."

  Katarina shook her head and accepted a hug as she sat down. "He tells Chance every day."

  Alex sighed. "I know how important this is to you. But whether or not he loves you, he's trying his damnedest to do right by you."

  "I know he is, Alex. But it's just not enough. I want his love."

  * * *

  Tanya was spending the weekend with her family at Rincon, and she asked Cole and Rini to bring the baby and come down for a neighborhood barbecue. After checking with T., Cole called up Jeff and invited him, too. They'd talked several times on the phone, but had never met face-to-face. It was long past time. Since Jeff lived down that way, they arranged to meet at Tanya's.

  On Saturday morning, Cole loaded the car seat and diaper bag into the truck and settled behind the wheel, with Rini close beside him and Chance's car seat buckled next to her.

  He shot her a wink and shifted into Reverse, deliberately sliding the stick shift under her skirt. She quickly scooted her knees to the side and clamped them together. Chuckling, he gave her an evil grin.

  She was so teasable, and he loved doing it. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, he'd been hopelessly attracted to her innocent sensuality. Her guileless fluster at his sexual innuendos never ceased to delight him, inflaming him to taut arousal. He couldn't wait to get her into his bed, naked and purring.

 

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