I Won't!

by Gina Wilkins

  I Won’t!

  Gina Wilkins

  For Linda Varner Palmer,

  who reminds me often

  that we truly love this job

  Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  CASE BRANNIGAN was getting married. There were a lot of people who would never have believed it. He was finding it rather hard to believe, himself.

  The tropical scents and exotic sounds of Cancú, Mexico, drifted through the open windows on one side of the snug little vacation cottage, adding to the fantasy feel of the day. Case began to whistle as he worked on the knot of his tie. Damn, but he felt good.

  The sounds of soft laughter and muted conversation grew slightly louder, then faded, telling him that at least two people—probably one of the many couples currently in residence at the resort—had passed close by his cabin. He had an uncharacteristically whimsical urge to run to the window and invite them to his wedding, which was to take place in a little over half an hour.

  Though this was intended as a private wedding, with only the bridal couple, an officiant and a hired witness in attendance, Case suddenly found himself wishing for a more traditional ceremony. Candles and lace, flowers, family and friends. Tiny flower girls, ushers in penguin suits, guests in wedding finery, a tipsy uncle making bawdy toasts.

  Tradition. Something Case had never had with his unusual upbringing. Something he’d always fiercely craved.

  And now, with his thirty-fifth birthday looming close, he meant to make up for the lack. He was going to have a normal life. Wife, kids, a house and a yard. A dog. Maybe two. Sunday dinners, Little League, school plays, camping trips with the kids.

  It would be a nice change to sleep in the woods without wondering who might be out there tracking him down.

  Tie in place, he took a moment to check his appearance in the mirror. His habitually shaggy dark hair was neatly combed—unusual enough, in itself. His slightly squared jaw was clean-shaven, exposing the shallow cleft in his chin. His dark suit was freshly pressed, lint-free, his white shirt pristine. There were people who would have had a tough time recognizing him, he thought with a chuckle. People he hoped he never saw again.

  Satisfied with his appearance, he turned toward the bed, where he’d laid the marriage license and the tiny box that held a small, plain gold band. He slipped both into the inside pocket of his jacket. He would buy a diamond to accompany the band as soon as he had a chance, he promised himself. Or would Maddie prefer an emerald, or maybe a ruby?

  Having met her less than two weeks ago, there were still quite a few things he had yet to learn about her.

  Two weeks. He laughed softly and shook his head. Who would have believed it?

  He’d come to Cancú to rest and regroup, to make some heavy decisions about what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Weary and burned-out after years of government service, he had found himself craving something he couldn’t define, aching with a need that he hadn’t been able to understand. And then he’d met Maddie. Sweet Maddie Carmichael. And suddenly everything had become clear.

  He now knew that what he’d needed had been a woman. A partner. A friend. Soft arms. Gentle smiles. A warm heart. All that sappy stuff he’d scorned so loudly in his reckless youth.

  He’d known within hours that Maddie would be the perfect wife in the “Normal Life” he envisioned for himself. A small-town girl with deep roots to her community and her family. Pretty, in a wholesome, girl-next-door way. Sweet-natured, a bit naive, perhaps. She’d admitted that she enjoyed cooking—she even owned a family-style restaurant along with her father back home in Mississippi. She loved children. Her hobbies were needlework and watercolor painting.

  He couldn’t have found a more perfect bride if he’d created her himself.

  Case had approached his courtship of Maddie with the same intensity and single-minded determination that had made him so dangerous—and successful, in his career. He’d swept her off her feet, flattered her, wooed her, enticed her. Dazzled her with romance. Deliberately kept her so dazed and bemused that she—who admitted she was rarely impulsive—had agreed to marry a man who was little more than a stranger to her. He had promised her the moon—and he had every intention of trying to obtain it for her. It was the least she deserved for rescuing him from a life of bleak, bitter loneliness.

  He doubted that anyone had ever pursued her with bolder tenacity. He knew he’d never invested this much effort into any other woman. To be painfully honest, he’d always considered himself rather awkward and uncomfortable around women, choosing to spend occasional time only with the ones who hadn’t made it necessary for him to pursue them.

  But then, no other woman had ever mattered this much to him.

  He patted his pocket, reassuring himself that the license and ring were in place. He looked into the mirror once more, noting that he still looked presentable. And then he glanced at his watch.

  Half an hour to go. Half an hour of being single. Half an hour alone.

  A quiver went through his flat stomach. Maybe a touch of nerves. Certainly a healthy shot of anticipation—after all, he hadn’t even made love to his pretty bride yet. He’d been determined to do this thing right—a traditional, if rather hasty, courtship, a traditional, and not-at-all hurried, wedding night. His pulse rate increased at the thought of that long night ahead.

  A series of quick, sharp raps on the motel-room door made him look around in question. Who in the world...? Maddie was supposed to meet him at the judge’s office. He wasn’t expecting anyone else.

  He crossed the room and opened the door. And then muttered a curse and tried to shut it again.

  A slender, coral-tipped hand shoved from the other side. “I’ve got to talk to you,” the tall, stunning redhead in the hallway insisted in a husky voice Case knew all too well.

  “Go away, Jade. I’m busy.”

  “Come on, let me in. This is important.”

  “I’m getting married in half an hour, damn it.”

  Jade’s emerald eyes were filled with sympathy. He’d never seen her look at him quite that way before. He didn’t like seeing the emotion there now. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to postpone that,” she said quietly.

  Case shook his head, though a sick feeling of foreboding was spreading through him. “No way.”

  Jade reached inside the jacket of her beautifully tailored dark green suit. “I have something here I think will convince you,” she said in a carefully uninflected voice that made Case go very still.

  Oh, damn, Maddie. I’m so sorry.

  * * *

  FOR AT LEAST the tenth time in less than twenty minutes, Maddie checked the time on her watch, aware that she was being surreptitiously—and sympathetically—watched from across the small office by the justice of the peace and his wife. Case was late, over twenty minutes late. The ceremony should have been over by now. They should already be married.

  So where was he?

  “Would you like to call the resort again, Miss Carmichael?” the middle-aged officiant asked in slightly accented English.

  Maddie managed a smile and shook her head. She’d already called Case’s rooms twice. There’d been no answer either time. “I’m sure he’s on his way,” she said with a confidence that was rapidly fading. “He’s obviously been detained. By traffic, perhaps.”

  Señor and Señora Ruiz nodded agreeably, though Maddie could see the doubt mirrored in their dark eyes. They thought she’d been stood up, she realized.

  Oh, God—what if they wer
e right?

  She twisted her fingers in front of her, her fair-complexioned cheeks warming with an embarrassed flush. What was she doing here? she asked herself in a sudden surge of panic. How had she allowed herself to get into this painfully awkward situation? She’d only come to Cancú on a vacation—a vacation she’d won through a supermarket sweepstakes, for crying out loud!

  She’d left Mississippi in the hope of getting some rest, maybe finding a bit of excitement to inject in her otherwise routine life. She hadn’t expected to find herself involved in a vacation romance—and she certainly hadn’t planned on marrying a man she’d met by accident on a sandy beach! Less than two weeks ago, for heaven’s sake. But she was here now, fully prepared to carry through with the impulsive promise she’d given.

  Where the hell was Case?

  She smoothed her damp palms down the side of her floating white eyelet sundress—the only garment she’d brought along that had looked in the least bridal. And then she brushed a strand of mousy brown hair away from the sidepiece of her glasses. Case would be here, she reassured herself, remembering the intense look in his unusual gray eyes as he’d begged her to marry him. He couldn’t have looked at her that way if he hadn’t meant it—could he?

  A tentative knock on the door made Maddie catch her breath and whirl toward the sound. Case?

  The shy-looking young woman who entered the office was someone Maddie recognized. “Carmelita?” she asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  Carmelita was an employee at the resort where Maddie and Case had been staying. Maddie had found herself drawn to the woman’s sweet smile and open manner, and had begun to consider Carmelita a friend—one she’d needed badly as she’d tumbled into love with a stranger. Needing to talk to another woman, she’d confided her confusion and bedazzlement to Carmelita, who was young enough and romantic enough to be fascinated by the whirlwind courtship taking place in front of her. She had even given Maddie a lace-trimmed handkerchief to carry during the wedding ceremony—for luck, she’d said shyly.

  Carmelita wasn’t smiling now. Her huge black eyes were liquid with sympathy. “I have a note for you,” she said simply, holding out her hand.

  Maddie stared at the folded square of white paper with a sick feeling deep inside her. Somehow, she already knew what it said. “He isn’t coming, is he?” she whispered.

  Carmelita shook her head. “He had to leave. Read the note.”

  Something in the way Carmelita was looking at her made Maddie tense. “When did he leave?”

  “Not long ago. They—he seemed to be in a great hurry,” the young woman answered carefully, quickly rephrasing the sentence.

  But Maddie had caught the stammered word. “They?” she repeated. “He didn’t leave alone?”

  Torn by loyalty and compassion, Carmelita shook her head. “No. There was a woman.”

  “A woman?” Maddie pressed a hand to her aching stomach.

  “Sí. She was tall, very pretty and she had red hair. Perhaps it was his sister,” Carmelita suggested helpfully, unaware that Case had told Maddie several times that he had no family, no one at all. “Perhaps there was an emergency at his home, yes? Read the note, Maddie,” she repeated, holding it out insistently.

  Maddie’s hand was shaking when she finally made herself take the note. She opened it carefully, as though afraid it would explode in her face.

  Maddie, I’m sorry. Something urgent has come up, and I have to leave. The wedding must be postponed. Go home, and wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Case

  Something died inside Maddie. And something else was born in its place, conceived in pain and grief and blazing hot temper.

  Sweet Maddie Carmichael would never be quite the same.

  1

  THE BARELY COHERENT directions Case had gotten from the gawky boy at the service station had proven more reliable than he’d expected. As instructed, he turned left at the third and final traffic light in the small town of Mitchell’s Fork, Mississippi, and discovered that he’d reached his destination. He pulled into the surprisingly crowded parking lot, turned off his ignition and released a deep sigh.

  It had taken him too damned long to get here.

  A large sign identified the restaurant—Mike and Maddie’s. Seeing Maddie’s name made Case reach up to tug at his tie, feeling as though it had suddenly tightened on him.

  Funny how clearly he could still picture her after all these months. As though he’d seen her only a few minutes ago. Her sweet, oval face, framed in long, light brown hair. Mousy brown, she’d called it with a wrinkle of her little nose, but Case had liked the soft gleam and delicate scent of the below-shoulder-length mass. Her mouth was soft and full, usually unpainted since she admitted to a chronic tendency to chew off her lipstick. He hadn’t minded; he’d never cared for the heavily made-up look. Maddie’s natural prettiness had appealed to him from the first time he saw her.

  Her eyes were her best feature. They were a clear, purply blue, only partially obscured by the glasses that compensated for their myopia. Case could still remember catching his breath when he’d removed those glasses to kiss her for the first time, and had been exposed to his first unobstructed look at those lovely eyes. He’d been struck by an uncharacteristically possessive satisfaction that few people received the full impact of Maddie’s eyes.

  She was small—almost a foot shorter than his six feet three inches—and gently rounded rather than model thin. He had been vaguely annoyed when she’d reluctantly skipped the delicious desserts and had wistfully passed over the rich, high-calorie dishes on the resort menu. She’d considered herself waging a constant battle against ten extra pounds. Case had thought she looked just fine. In fact, he’d been decidedly impatient to get much more intimately acquainted with her soft curves.

  He’d had plenty of time to regret his atypical nobility in not taking her to bed the first chance he’d had to do so.

  His sleek, powerful Ferrari looked oddly out of place among the pickup trucks, four-wheel-drive vehicles and family sedans crowding the parking lot. He frowned thoughtfully at the observation, wondering if he should trade it for a Jeep or a Bronco. After all, he wanted to fit in here.

  He reached for the door handle and winced as he swung his left leg out of the car. He had to brace himself as he climbed out. He couldn’t quite trust that leg not to buckle on him. It had only been two weeks since he’d tossed the hated crutches aside. The doctors had told him he was damned lucky he could walk at all.

  Funny how nervous he was. He could burst into a roomful of armed drug dealers with more confidence than he was feeling now.

  He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his freshly trimmed hair and made a quick check of his appearance. His dark suit—the one he’d intended to be married in—hung loosely on him. He’d regained only five of the fifteen pounds he’d lost during the past six months. He knew his face was more gaunt than it had been, and his eyes were heavily shadowed. He walked with a limp now, and several ugly new scars had been added to the older ones scattered across his battered thirty-five-year-old body.

  He hoped Maddie wouldn’t be too dismayed by the changes in him, though it was more likely that her gentle heart would swell with sympathy. At the moment, he wouldn’t mind a little TLC—and he wasn’t above using her tender pity to get him back into her good graces.

  He’d come too far to give up the dream now.

  He straightened and limped toward the entrance of the restaurant, his shoulders squared with renewed determination. Case Brannigan was a man on a mission. And, recent history notwithstanding, he rarely failed when he set his sights on a goal.

  * * *

  THE RESTAURANT specialized in home-style cooking. In keeping with its simple menu, the establishment’s decor was classic country. A long front porch held a row of oversize wooden rockers, discreetly marked for sale, and the huge double doors were made of weathered barnwood. The lobby had been designed to resemble a country store, with rows of old-fashio
ned merchandise for sale—cookbooks, hard candies, simple toys, country-chic home decorations, even jars of honey and jams.

  The place was crowded on this Sunday afternoon, most of the diners dressed in what appeared to be Sunday-best clothing, making Case suspect that this was a popular after-church stop. There were quite a few people browsing through the merchandise as they waited for a table or made their way out after eating.

  Case searched the milling crowd for Maddie’s familiar face. He didn’t see her, but told himself to be patient. His rarely fallible instincts told him she was here.

  A painfully thin, awkwardly tall woman in a blue denim dress with a red-checked apron looked up from the reception stand in the doorway to the main dining room. “You eatin’ alone?” she asked him in the broad, rural Mississippi drawl he’d become accustomed to since arriving in the state that morning.

  “Yes,” he replied, though he hoped he wouldn’t be alone for long. “Can you tell me where I might find—”

  His question was interrupted by a quick, shrill whistle. “Table four’s ready, Hazel,” a young man called from somewhere behind the woman.

  Hazel waved an acknowledgment, glanced at the scribbled pad in front of her and called out in one breath, “Anderson-party-of-five-your-table’s-ready.” And then she looked at Case. “Name?” she asked.

  A bit disconcerted by the bustling informality of the place, Case started to answer. “It’s Branni—”

  Again he was interrupted, this time by a very large man in beltless polyester slacks and a food-spotted white shirt. “Pork chops were pert’ near overcooked today, Hazel,” he complained as he pushed past the family of five on their way to table four. “You tell Mike he better watch that or he’s going to lose my business.”

  “Leon, you been threatening to quit eating here for the past five years,” Hazel retorted, obviously unconcerned. “You know darned well you ain’t going to find any better food in this part of the state. Now quit your gripin’ and get along with you.”