The Wedding Bargain

by Lisette Belisle

  Next time.

  He lifted himself off the cot; he was halfway across the room before he heard her soft voice. “Drew, I’m sorry.”

  He fought the urge to go back and finish what he’d started. His body felt tight with needs that hadn’t been met. He was so aroused, he felt as if the top of his head was going to blow off.

  But there was that entreaty in her voice.

  With a deep sigh, he turned back. She sat in the middle of his narrow bed; she looked young and helpless.

  And irresistible.

  At some point, her nightshirt had ridden up. One slender bare leg dangled over the edge of the bed. Like the rest of her, her foot was small and dainty; it didn’t reach the floor. She was all slender and gold and feminine. The little witch was going to drive him insane.

  His voice sounded harsh when he spoke. “I’m not a eunuch or a saint—so let’s get a few things straight. From now on, you stay on your side of the room.”

  “Which side is mine?” Her gaze followed the direction of his hand as he defined her space—notably separate from his.

  He said firmly, “And I’ll stay on mine.”

  Amused, her gaze came back to him. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Drew looked at her. In his mind, all he saw was an image of a black lace bra with pale round breasts spilling out.

  He added, “And no more lingerie in the bathroom.”

  “Oh.” Finally she got it.

  He released a long breath in relief. Maybe now, with Olivia sufficiently warned to stay out of his way, they could both get some sleep.

  Olivia felt very small, very naive; she cringed at the impatient note in his voice. Trying to evade his penetrating stare, she reached for a pillow and hugged it to her chest.

  Their little encounter had obviously left him in a foul mood. Men were like that when they were frustrated—or so she’d been told. She’d never let one get close enough to find out.

  In any case, he was obviously annoyed. And all over a little kiss—well, maybe not so little. Her mouth tingled from the contact, and her body felt empty, yet more alive. He’d clearly wanted her. She frowned at the realization that she’d wanted him back—which wasn’t part of her plan.

  What was her plan?

  Oh, yes, she’d hoped to propose a temporary marriage over dinner. But the food had gotten in the way. Then he’d let her win at poker, which annoyed her.

  She didn’t know how to approach the subject of marriage. Surely, if she explained her situation, he’d see the mutual benefits of such an arrangement. Instead of the small allotment from a trust account she was getting now, she’d get full rights to Stone’s End and access to a hefty bank account.

  Although it struck her as mercenary, she could pay Drew for his time if that was what he wanted. How much was a husband worth in monetary terms?

  She could afford to be generous—he certainly looked as if he could use the money.

  All evening she’d been trying to soften him up, but her plans had gone astray, and so had she. Almost. She flushed at how she’d responded to him. She’d had plenty of boyfriends, but Drew wasn’t a boy. Her spirits sank. Now he was looking at her as if he didn’t even like her!

  Before she could find her voice, he muttered, “I never should have touched you.”

  She sighed, unsure what she wanted—just that she didn’t want whatever had happened between them to end like this.

  “I touched you first,” she said, shifting on the bed.

  “Stop right there.” He held up his hand. “This is insane.” He backed away. “Look, just stay away from me—unless you want to wind up sharing a bed tonight. You got that?”

  “All right,” she said slowly, shivering inside at the ravenous look in his eyes that seemed to drink her up and swallow her whole. She knew this man could hurt her—unless she could keep her emotions from interfering with what she needed to do.

  She knew he had problems, but she couldn’t get involved. She had enough problems of her own. “Drew, I—”

  “There’s no more to say,” he said hoarsely.

  “I was just wondering…” She pulled her damp nightshirt away from her skin. “Do you have something I could borrow to sleep in just for tonight?”

  With a tight nod, he dug a plaid flannel shirt out of his backpack, then tossed it to her. Olivia caught it.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, deciding this wasn’t the best time to pursue the topic of marriage.

  However, one very large question loomed in her mind. Was Drew eligible? He didn’t behave like a married man, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was unattached. She typically dated men who were more comfortable—not exactly weak, but tame. Drew definitely had a dangerous edge. The urge to be the woman to domesticate him was almost irresistible. Had some woman tried?

  Drew slammed into the bathroom.

  He was breathing hard, as if he’d been running.

  He stripped off his damp clothes and took a quick shower. The bathroom reeked of her shampoo and body powder. Subtle and fragrant, it was sophisticated yet innocent, sweet but sassy—like her. His stomach knotted at the scent. Later, when he climbed into bed, it was there, as well.

  The full moon lit the room. He lay staring at the beamed ceiling. The wind whined to come in, seeking out every nook and crevice. Something scratched at a window—probably a branch.

  He hoped.

  He was in no mood for fighting off predators, whether they were two-legged or walked on all fours.

  “Drew?” she whispered into the dividing space.

  Inwardly he groaned. “What now?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s drop it.”

  “Umm…I was just wondering…are you married?”

  “No!” he said hoarsely. God, what was she up to now!

  For several minutes, he waited for her to add more. When she didn’t, he turned to look at her bright head against the white pillow. Her eyes were closed. She was breathing evenly.

  She was asleep!

  Hell, how was he supposed to sleep now? He punched his pillow and turned on his side to stare at the rough wall.

  For the second night in a row, Drew didn’t get much rest.

  The following morning, Olivia was still wearing his shirt.

  Naturally it looked better on her than on him.

  She’d tucked the red-and-black buffalo plaid into her black jeans. He knew he’d never wear the shirt again without recalling her in it. His gaze followed her hungrily as she set the food on the table. In silence, they ate breakfast—blueberry pancakes.

  Like a starved man, Drew ate every crumb.

  Olivia smiled at him, all rosy and innocent, as if he’d never invaded her mouth, never felt her breasts flatten against him. When she piled another pancake on his plate, he didn’t refuse. Despite his lingering frustration, he had to admit she knew how to cook.

  When the sound of an engine roared up the rough track and stopped just outside the door, Drew met Olivia’s gaze. “That must be Walt.”

  “Mmm.” She looked disappointed when he’d expected her to be overjoyed and anxious to get her car repaired and on her way.

  A moment later, Drew opened the door and found Walt on the doorstep. Drew was never more pleased to see anyone in his life!

  With a grin, Walt removed his baseball cap. “Morning. Your car’s ready, almost good as new. It’s back at the shop. Thought I’d give you a ride into town. Hope I’m not too early.”

  “Not at all,” Drew said, noting with dry amusement the improvement in the man’s appearance.

  Walt had combed his hair and cleaned the grease from under his fingernails. Apparently Olivia had that sort of effect on people—particularly the male variety.

  Olivia smiled, which probably earned her a hefty auto repair discount. “Would you care for some breakfast?”

  “No, thanks.” Walt took an empty chair at the table. “I just ate. Though I could use a cup of coffee if you got some.”

  At Olivia
’s urging, Walt had two cups of coffee and put away an impressive stack of pancakes.

  Meanwhile, Drew gathered up his things and tended the fire, dousing it with a bucket of water to ensure it was out. Olivia tidied up the kitchen. Before leaving, Drew found her writing out an IOU with a meticulous list of what they’d used. An honest woman! With a faint smile, he recalled her claim that she always paid her debts.

  “I’ll take care of it.” He took the note, without mentioning that his family owned the place.

  The cabin was filled with memories of happier days spent with his parents, his two brothers and his sister. He could still recall racing his brothers down to the lake, then diving off the pier into the frigid waters. As a boy, he’d thought those summer days would never end. But they had.

  Olivia looked around. “I guess that’s it.” She looked at Drew expectantly.

  “Guess so.” Drew might have added something, but Walt was waiting, and besides, what was there to say?

  Fate had given him a stolen day and two nights, time out of time, with Olivia, a stranger who somehow felt more familiar than many people he’d known all his life. And somehow, she’d made the adjustment of going home to Henderson and facing his old life seem just a bit easier today than it had yesterday.

  Olivia slipped her arms into her black leather jacket.

  Walt tripped all over himself offering to carry her one small piece of luggage. He rushed to open the door for her.

  Left behind, Drew took one last look around. The windows sparkled, the floor was swept clean, the scent of fresh flowers lingered.

  Drew filed it away with all the other memories of this place. Olivia had left her mark.

  Chapter Five

  After the excitement of the past two days, reaching Henderson felt anticlimactic. Olivia tried to deny the reaction. Main Street wasn’t much more than a short business strip. A few retail stores were boarded up.

  In the town square, a bright profusion of red and gold chrysanthemums spilled out of a cultivated plot surrounding a stone monument commemorating some long-forgotten military hero who had fought in some long-forgotten battle.

  This was where she and Drew would go their separate ways. Olivia hated goodbyes. The inevitable sense of loss was nothing new; but something about Drew touched her.

  She couldn’t deny a sinking sensation when he said, “You can drop me off anywhere here in town.”

  Of course, she’d already decided he wasn’t the right man for her purposes. So why was she feeling dispirited? She should be relieved. Drew would probably have laughed at her marriage proposal. At least, she’d been spared that humiliation.

  She slowed the car. “Where?”

  He shrugged. “Here will do.”

  Olivia pulled her car into a vacant spot in front of the Trading Post. A pair of moose antlers curved over the entrance. She turned to Drew, intending to say goodbye.

  Instead, she heard herself saying, “Maybe we could have dinner before you leave town.” She wasn’t in the habit of asking men for dates. This was a first.

  His mouth tightened. “Olivia, you don’t want to know me. Not if you want to get along with people in Henderson after I’m gone. Our association won’t do your reputation any good.”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “No.” He laughed softly. “But you should. In any case, I’m not sure how long I’ll be around.” He reached into the rear seat for his backpack. It didn’t look very full.

  He opened the car door. “I’ll find you if I have any free time before I leave.”

  Olivia knew he was letting her down gently—he had no intention of looking her up. This was goodbye. “But I still have your shirt.”

  Her breath caught at the look in his eyes. His dark gaze drifted over her—and his flannel shirt. Then something in his eyes hardened and shut her out.

  Drew didn’t want the shirt.

  The last thing he wanted was a tangible reminder of Olivia. He knew he’d never wear the shirt again without thinking of her.

  “Keep it,” he said.

  When she opened her mouth to argue, he couldn’t resist kissing her, one brief stolen kiss. The memory of her would linger, just as the sweet honey taste of her mouth lingered on his lips when he turned away.

  A few moments later, Drew walked into the Trading Post.

  Someone was coming out. Drew stood aside and held the door open to let the woman through. Her smile faded when she saw Drew. She lowered her eyes and brushed past him; her husband did the same. Drew had gone through twelve grades of school with both; now they pretended not to know him.

  As others became aware of him, an awkward silence settled. Trying to ignore the reaction, Drew made his way down the narrow store aisle, gathering food and a few sundry items. Finally he set them down by the counter near the cash register. The clerk didn’t look familiar.

  “That it?” the teenager asked, after totaling the cost.

  Drew nodded. He had a check from his younger sister that more than covered the amount. Abby had proved to be his only ally in the family. They’d never been close, and her loyalty had come as a surprise.

  By now, a small knot of men had gathered.

  One of them spoke. “So you’re back. You fixing to stay?”

  “Just passing through.” Drew recognized the man.

  “That’s good.” Reggie LaRoche was an independent logger. Over the years, he’d done a lot of business with the Pierces.

  Drew said quietly, “I don’t want any trouble.”

  Although middle-aged and balding, Reggie still looked fit. “That’s a new one.” The man never pulled his punches. “We don’t want your kind around here.”

  Drew lifted an eyebrow. “My kind?”

  “An ex-con,” Reggie tossed back.

  Drew caught his breath at the open show of hostility. He’d never been very good at turning the other cheek, but he gave it a try. “Look, I can’t change what happened. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  Eyes narrowed, Reggie slid his hands into his pockets. “Well, maybe so, but don’t expect anyone to roll out the red carpet.”

  Drew didn’t have to be told.

  At a nod from Reggie, the men stepped aside.

  Feeling low and humiliated, unable to fight back in self-defense, Drew picked up the items he’d purchased and left.

  Outside, the wind had picked up a nasty bite. It cut through his thin jacket, reminding him that he was in the north country, where autumn sped into winter.

  With no means of transportation, he started the long walk home—a distance of five and a half miles from the heart of town.

  A few cars passed before one slowed down, then stopped. It had a red light and a siren on the roof. The town sheriff got out. He nodded a greeting. “I heard you were back in town.”

  Eyes narrowed, Drew said coolly, “Word spreads fast.”

  Tall and erect in a uniform that proclaimed him the long arm of the law, Seth Powers tipped back his hat. “You know how it is. The Trading Post is still a hotbed of gossip. Anyway, it’s good to see you again.”

  Drew’s mouth tightened. “Don’t give me that. In case you’ve forgotten, you arrested me and locked me up.”

  “I was only doing my job,” Seth argued.

  Drew laughed harshly. “Okay, fine, you did what you had to do. Now what? What do you want from me—absolution?”

  “My conscience is clear.” Seth drew in a breath, then started over. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re home. You didn’t let anyone know they were letting you out early.”

  “Three months short.”

  “That’s good,” Seth said mildly.

  “The jail was overcrowded.”

  Seth laughed. “You haven’t changed.”

  Drew met his gaze. “Yes, I have. I didn’t have much choice. Wasn’t that the whole point?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. For what it’s worth, I wish things could have been different.” Seth wasn’t long on sentiment—which was one of the things D
rew had always admired about his old friend. “So now that you’re here, how about a lift?”

  Drew looked at the patrol car. “Unless I’m under arrest, I think I’ll pass. The last time you took me for a ride, I wound up in the county jail.”

  “Just get in,” Seth ordered in a low, deliberate voice.

  Drew recognized the tone. He’d heard it often enough when they were on the same high-school football team. Typically Seth would crush any opponent, leaving Drew a wide open field to score. But this was no game.

  “Sure, why not?” Drew said, accepting Seth’s offer of a ride.

  They drove off in silence. At the first—the one and only—intersection in town, Seth turned onto a secondary highway.

  There wasn’t any traffic.

  After a few more moments, Seth said, “What are you going to do now?”

  “I have no idea.” Drew stared out the window, as if the answers were there. He tried to feel a sense of homecoming.

  “You could stay,” Seth said.

  At the words, Drew denied the quick rush of emotion. There was no room for mushy sentimentality in his life—not anymore. He’d gone down that road before; it was a dead end. “No, I can’t. There’s nothing left for me here.”

  “There could be. After your family closed the sawmill, most people never recovered financially. With so many irons in the fire, maybe the Pierce financial empire can withstand that kind of loss, but it was the lifeblood of this town. While you’re here, look around. A lot needs to be done.”

  Drew let Seth have his say, then responded, “I’m not the man to do it.”

  His mouth tightened when they passed the sawmill. Despite the warning, Drew was shocked by the hard evidence of decline. The main building was closed and boarded up. Heavy equipment stood rusting in the lumberyard. Once a thriving mill, it was only one of many owned and operated by Drew’s family throughout the state. They’d simply shut this one down and walked away. They’d moved away rather than face the humiliation of their son in prison.

  Now, taking in the locked gates, Drew suddenly understood the bitterness in Reggie LaRoche’s eyes. No matter how far Drew went, he’d carry that expression with him, along with the knowledge that he’d helped put it there.