The Bride Tamer

by Ann Major

  “She said it was just sex.”

  “She’s a crazy gringa. After Julio, she’s running scared. She thinks you’re way up on some pedestal and she’s just a little secretary in an antique shop going to night school.”

  “I don’t know if I believe you.”

  “You should see her apartment. Awful. Tiny. Soulless. But I guess it’s all she can afford.”

  “She sends me a hundred dollars a month.”

  “She can’t afford to, and she’s too proud to take a dime from me now. She says I supported her too long. I told her, she repaid me a hundredfold by running the house and the servants. Besides, she’s family.”

  “I call her, but she won’t take my calls.”

  “Back to that first visit. I took Maria with me because I was afraid to face her alone. When we got there, Maria rang the doorbell. Miguelito opened the door and ran into my arms while Vivian stood behind him just inside the apartment. Finally, I dared to look up at her. She has the softest eyes when they’re full of tears…like crushed blue violets.”

  “I know that look. She forgave you, then?”

  “In a heartbeat. We hugged and cried and then we laughed that we’d behaved like such idiots.”

  “Did you talk about me?”

  “I’m not that crazy.”

  He felt hurt and left out, so he hardened his jaw in an attempt not to show it.

  “But she loves you, you big idioto,” Isabela said. “And she loves me.”

  “How can you be so sure—I mean about me?”

  “How can you both be crazy? She would never sleep with a man she didn’t love.”

  “But I’d only known her one day.”

  “So? Don’t you believe in magic? In love at first sight?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Not even when it’s happened to you?”

  He stared at her.

  “Gringo. Estùpido. You two belong together.”

  “I miss the hell out of her. I dream about Botticelli a lot,” he said. “Vivian’s always stepping out of the paintings wearing nothing. Only then I wake up, and she vanishes.”

  “You love her?”

  “I think about her all the time. I want to tell her about my day, ask her stupid questions. But—love at first sight? That’s a stretch.”

  “For a genius, you’re not too bright. And another thing—if you don’t go see her immediately, Julio is going to turn up on your doorstep.”

  “Why?”

  “Hola. Hello. One plus one sometimes equals more than two.”

  “She’s not…”

  “Pregnant.” Isabela raised her brows and began to nod at him. When he froze, she smiled. “You’ve made me a tía again.”

  “Oh God.” He bolted for the exit.

  At the sound of his dropped glass breaking, heads turned, and Isabela doubled over with laughter.

  Vivian was on the phone in the cramped back office of the luxurious antique shop where she worked in the Quarter, when the deliveryman arrived with two large vases of white lilies decorated with Mexican rattles and red and blue ribbons.

  “But the porcelains didn’t arrive, and we have to have them,” Vivian was saying.

  “Where do you want the rest of the flowers?” the deliveryman asked.

  “The rest?”

  “Our van is full, and they’re all for you.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got a wealthy admirer, chère.”

  “I’ll have to call you back,” she said into the mouthpiece.

  Thirty minutes later the deliveryman had his van unloaded. The antique shop brimmed with exotic Mexican blossoms. Vivian went from bouquet to bouquet of lilies and hibiscus blossoms and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the lilies as she read the cards. The flowers were from Cash, and every card said “I love you.”

  A second truck pulled up with still more flowers, and they were all for her too. When she stepped outside to direct the deliverymen, she gasped in wonder. A tall man with gorgeous black hair and a broad chest was striding toward her. He looked sleek and powerful, even in his elegantly cut gray suit, and even though he was smiling at her uncertainly.

  “Cash—” Her voice cracked. Then she backed into the brick wall and froze. “W-why aren’t you in San Francisco where you belong?”

  “Because you aren’t there.” Then he touched her bare arm with the back of his knuckles, and her body shook all over with want and need and anguish.

  “Because I missed you,” he said in that velvet tone that undid her.

  She caught the smell of his starched cotton shirt as well as the scent of his skin and cologne, and sighed. “I know what you mean.”

  “You didn’t call.”

  “You shouldn’t have sent all the flowers. They’re way too expensive.”

  “I can afford them. I’m rich remember?”

  She was thrilled he was here, but her pleasure was laced with the terrible tension that stretched between them. “You should have just called or something.”

  “You don’t answer your phone.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have come all this way.”

  “Don’t you have something important to tell me?” he asked.

  Her gaze darted fearfully to his face. “Did Julio or Isabela tell you, because if they—”

  “What does it matter? I’m here, willing to start where we left off…if you are.”

  “Cash…”

  “Can we go somewhere? A café or something?”

  “I—I’ll ask my boss.”

  A few minutes later, she led him to the café around the corner. He ordered them black coffee and beignets as if they were an ordinary couple.

  “Just my luck,” she said after she told him about the baby. “We go to bed once and I get pregnant. I know you couldn’t possibly want…and I don’t expect—”

  He pulled a velvet box out of his pocket and pushed it across the red-checkered tablecloth toward her. “For what it’s worth, I do want.” His gaze locked on her face. “I’m asking you to marry me, Vivian.”

  She stroked the soft velvet but didn’t open the box. “I thought you’d be furious because I didn’t tell you.”

  His knuckles went white. He was very still. “I’m not saying we don’t have a lot of things to work on in our relationship.”

  His face was cast in bitter lines. If he were anyone other than who he was, she might have believed she’d hurt him deeply. But he was big and important, and she’d seen pictures of him with famous beauties.

  “But I’m willing to try,” he finished.

  She told herself she’d hurt his pride, not him. “It wouldn’t work…for so many reasons.”

  “It won’t if you don’t give us a chance. It is surprising what challenges can be conquered if you decide to face them head-on.”

  “Is that really all it takes?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Sometimes.”

  “You’re famous.”

  “You will be too—if you marry me.”

  “That’s not funny. Everybody will be counting the months.”

  “I don’t care. Do you?”

  “This isn’t some fairy tale. We knew each other a couple of days. Guys like you pay doctors to take care of problems like this when you get girls like me pregnant.”

  He was silent for a long time, silent until the air seemed so charged with the heavy weight of some unspoken, tortured emotion, she hardly dared to breathe.

  “I’m not that guy—no matter how your fears and self-doubts keep inventing him. I want to be part of this baby’s life. Part of your life. But if you don’t want to marry me, we’ll do this your way. I’ll help you any way you want, anytime. I won’t pressure you. But for what it’s worth—I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Life isn’t about being famous, you know. It’s about family. I’ve always wanted a real family.”

  She couldn’t believe he was voicing her own dream. Too miserable for words or hope, she shook her head.

 
; He got up slowly, and she fought back tears.

  Then he said, “Tell Miguelito I’m sorry I missed him. It would have been nice hanging out with him for a lifetime. He’s a cute kid. A real heartbreaker. Like his mother. Like my little Sophie. If you decided to marry me, I would have to put in a swimming pool.” He paused, waiting. Finally, he sighed. “Goodbye, Vivian.”

  She tried to speak, but her throat clenched too tightly.

  “Well, at least I tried,” he said, picking up the ring and placing it in his pocket.

  Then he was outside the door—gone. And she could do nothing but sit there and wipe her damp lashes with her paper napkin. Finally, she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. It was her body, her pregnant, hormone-besieged body that was making her so crazy, making her feel so desperately lost and alone that she almost believed he was right…that life really was about the little moments…that like her he needed to be part of a real family…that they could make it work.

  It’s surprising what challenges can be conquered if you decide to face them head-on.

  Was he right? What if he was?

  The thought of going back to her bleak apartment, of facing years alone without him finally got the best of her.

  Hardly knowing what she was doing, she stood up and stumbled out of the café into the soft, gray light. Then she saw him and began running down the sidewalk, pushing through people who got in her way, calling his name.

  “Cash! Cash—”

  When he turned, his chiseled face looked lost and haunted—until she smiled at him. Then his expression lit up, and his lips parted into a grin that filled her entire being with hope and happiness. Suddenly he was cutting through the crowd toward her. She was in his arms, and he was lifting her and twirling her round and round, so that other pedestrians stopped to watch them and smile.

  Never removing his gaze from her face, he eased her back to the ground slowly as if she were very precious to him and pulled the ring box from his pocket.

  “I—I don’t know about this,” she whispered, opening the velvet box and peeping at the big diamond that winked at her. “It’s too huge for a girl like me.”

  “It’s flawless.” He took the ring out and slid it onto her finger. “But if you don’t like it, you can pick out one you do. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

  She shook her head. “Marrying you is the easy way out.”

  “Who says marriage is easy? Any marriage? Your first one wasn’t. Half of them don’t work out. Being rich isn’t what it’s cracked up to be either. And you haven’t tried to live with me. I get into hellish artistic funks. When I’m working, I hole up for weeks and ignore everybody.”

  “I guess your wife would have to learn to be her own person.”

  “You can be anything you want to be if you let yourself believe in possibilities. I love you. Please don’t send me away.” He lowered his mouth until it was very close to hers.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Make me believe. I’m in the mood for a miracle.”

  His hands cupped her face gently, reverently, and he stared into her eyes for a long time and smiled.

  He loved her. She could see it so plainly.

  His kiss was soft at first and then harder, slowly growing hotter. All too soon, her body took over.

  “You’re not going back to work today,” he said, his breathing rough and irregular now. “We’re going to my hotel.”

  For once she didn’t argue other than to say, “We have an hour and a half before I have to pick up Miguelito.”

  “I can’t wait to see him,” Cash said.

  Then he kissed her again, and every cell in her being ached for what was to come. His hard mouth was both tender and passionate, and she felt warm tears of joy sting her eyelids.

  “I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his big body. “I missed you.”

  “You damn sure made me miserable for a while.”

  “I was miserable too. Does that count?”

  “Yeah. It counts. But you have a lot to make up for,” he said.

  “We have the rest of our lives.”

  “You can start during the next hour and a half. I have a long list….”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  When he leaned down and whispered into her ear, she grew so hot, she knew her face must be scarlet. He hugged her close, and they kissed again.

  The moon was bright, the dark Pacific splashed with silver. Cash was lying in bed in the most fantastic bedroom in the most fantastic house she’d ever seen. Behind the bed was an eight-paneled painting with eight naked Aphrodites rising out of the sea.

  The mansion with its flying decks clung to a cliff over Acapulco. Not that she was that interested in the magnificent house when Cash’s dark, muscular body was sprawled across the white satin sheets.

  “Marco and I designed it for a friend,” Cash said lazily, watching her as she padded about the thick white carpet brushing her red hair out.

  “I’m so glad he loaned it to us.”

  “It was a wedding gift, my love,” Cash said.

  “And this is our wedding night,” she whispered.

  “So—strip,” he murmured, “or do I have to get up and do it for you?”

  She leaned down to turn out the light.

  “Leave it on.”

  Shyly she lowered the strap of her filmy, apricot-colored negligee over her slim arm and winked at him.

  “Take your time,” he said.

  She whirled round and round, causing the gauzy gown to flow around her, revealing her legs and thighs and the thatch of red curls between her legs. Then she grabbed the hem of her skirt, pulled it over her head and tossed it at him.

  “That was fast. I said slowly.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  “And just like I remembered…you’re better than Botticelli.”

  “I’m so glad you think so. If only we had a big shell, we could go down to the ocean and I could step out of it,” she laughed.

  “You’d give every Mexican in Acapulco a heart attack.”

  He got out of bed and took her in his arms. “I’ve been dreaming about you stepping out of paintings naked. Only I wake up and you vanish.”

  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, and soon nothing mattered to Cash but the wonderful feel of her warm body touching and cavorting with his. She felt silky, fluid, alive and on fire. Her heart beat like a drum.

  “Get in bed,” he said huskily.

  But he stood there, holding her and kissing her until she was breathless.

  “I can’t go anywhere if you don’t stop kissing me.”

  “And I can’t stop kissing you, so there.”

  “They’ll find us like this…petrified and still kissing,” she teased.

  “I don’t think so.”

  When they finally made it to the bed, he took his time, nibbling her with his mouth and licking her with his tongue until every cell felt like it was pulsing and she had never felt so burstingly alive.

  The instant he thrust inside her, they came together, shuddering, clinging, moaning as their bodies clenched in spasms. After a short rest, he made love to her again. And then again.

  “Tomorrow we’re flying to Florence for the rest of our honeymoon,” he murmured afterward, stroking her hair. “There’s a painting I want to show you.”

  “I think I know which one.”

  “The last time I saw it, I thought I could plan my life.”

  “Then you met me. And my life never goes according to plan.”

  “I couldn’t have planned anything better. You’re the perfect bride for me…even if you took a little taming.”

  “You want to know why?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “Because nobody in the whole world is ever going to love you the way I will.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “And nobody is ever going to love you the way I will either.”

>   She smiled radiantly.

  “I was wondering what it would take to convince you,” he said.

  “Good thing you’re a patient man.”

  “That’s a virtue I never knew I had.” He smiled.

  “Until you met me.”

  “I don’t think my staff in San Francisco would agree.”

  She laughed and pulled him close. “I want to do it again.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  But her mouth moved down his body and kissed him until he was hard again, and she climbed on top.

  Afterward, when they lay wrapped in each other’s arms in the dark lit only by stars, she said, “See, you were right.”

  “About what?”

  “You said it’s surprising what challenges can be conquered if you decide to face them head-on.”

  “I was inspired. I had you.”

  “Always. Forever,” she promised.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8029-2

  THE BRIDE TAMER

  Copyright © 2004 by Ann Major

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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  *Children of Destiny