"Lover."
"The label doesn't really matter." She started to move away, but he grabbed her shoulders. The glass tilted to the floor and shattered.
"I want you, damn it, don't you understand? Not just once. I don't want to have to drag you away from the Grants every time I want an hour with you."
"You'll drag me nowhere." The afterglow of love was replaced by angry pride. "Do you think I'll move in here so it'll be convenient for you when you have an urge to wrestle in bed? Well, I won't be a convenience to you or any man. The hell with you, Burke Logan."
She pushed away and had swung her legs off the bed when she went tumbling backward to find herself pinned under him. "I'm getting tired of you wishing me to hell."
"Well, get used to it. Now take your hands off me. I'm going home."
"No, you're not."
Her eyes narrowed. "You'll not keep me here."
"Whatever it takes." Then she twisted under him. Before he realized her intent, her teeth were sunk into his hand. He swore, and they rolled from one end of the bed to the other before he managed to pin her again.
"I'll draw blood next time, I swear it. Now let me go."
"Shut up, you crazy Irish hothead."
"Name-calling, is it?" Erin sucked the breath between her teeth. The words she uttered now were Gaelic.
This was hardly the time to be amused, he reminded himself. But there was no help for it. "What was that?"
"A curse. Some say my granny was a witch. If you're lucky, you'll die fast."
"And leave you a widow? Not a chance."
"Maybe you'll live, but in such pain you'll wish… What did you say?"
"We're getting married."
Because her mouth went slack and her bones limp, he released her to suck on his wounded hand.
"It's a relief to know you've got good teeth." He reached to the bedside table for a cigar. "Nothing to say, Irish?"
"Getting married?"
"That's right. We could fly to Vegas tomorrow, but then Dee would give me grief. I figure we can get a license and do it here in a few days."
"A few days." She shook her head to clear it, then sat up. "I think the wine's gone to my head." Or he had, she thought. "I don't understand."
"I want you." He lit the cigar, then spoke practically, deciding it was the style she'd relate to best. "You want me, but you won't live with me. It seems like the logical solution."
"Solution?"
Calmly, as if his life wasn't on the line, he blew out smoke. "Are you going to spend the rest of the night repeating everything I say?"
Again she shook her head. Trying to keep calm, she watched him, looking for any sign. But his eyes were shuttered and his face was closed. He'd played too many hands to give away the most important cards he'd ever held.
"Why do you want marriage?"
"I don't know. I've never been married before." He blew out another stream of smoke. "And I don't intend to make a habit of it. I figure once should do me."
"I don't think this is something you can take lightly."
"I'm not taking it lightly." Burke studied the end of his cigar, then leaned over to tap it out. "I've never asked another woman to marry me, never wanted one to. I'm asking you."
"Do you…" Love me? she wanted to ask. But she couldn't. Whatever answer he gave wouldn't be the right one, because she'd posed the question. "Do you really think that what we had here is enough for marriage?"
"No, but we're good together. We understand each other. You'll make me laugh, keep me on my toes, and you'll be faithful. I can't ask for more than that." And didn't dare. "I'll give you what you've always wanted. A nice home, a comfortable living, and you'll be the most important person in my life."
She lifted her head at that. It could be enough. If she was indeed important to him. "Do you mean that?"
"I rarely say what I don't mean." Because he needed to, he reached for her hand. "Life's a gamble, Irish, remember?"
"I remember."
"Most marriages don't make it because people go into them thinking that in time they'll change the other person. I don't want to change you. I like you the way you are."
He took her fingers to his lips, and her heart simply spoke louder than her head. "Then I guess I'll have to take you the way you are as well."
Chapter 8
"This is all happening so fast." Dee sat in Erin's bedroom, where even now a dressmaker was pinning and tucking a white satin gown on her cousin. "Are you sure you don't want a little more time?"
"For what?" Erin stared out the window, wondering whether if one of the dressmaker's pins slipped and pierced her skin she would discover it was all a dream.
"To catch your breath, think things through."
"I could have another six months and still not catch my breath." She lifted a hand to her bodice and felt the symphony of tiny freshwater pearls. Who would have thought she'd ever have such a dress? In another two days she would put it on to become
Burke's wife. Wife. A chill ran up her spine, and at her quick shudder the dressmaker murmured an apology.
"Have a look, Miss McKinnon. I think you'll be pleased with the length. If I do say so myself, the dress is perfect for you. Not every woman can wear this line."
Holding her breath, Erin turned to the cheval mirror. The dress was the real dream, she thought. Thousands of pearls glimmered against the satin, making it shimmer in the late-afternoon light. She thought it was something a medieval princess would wear, with its snug sleeves coming to points over her hands and its miles of snowy skirts.
"It's beautiful, Mrs. Viceroy," Adelia put in when her cousin only continued to stare. "And it's a miracle indeed that you could have it ready for us in such a short time. We're beholden to you."
"You know you've only to ask, Mrs. Grant." She eyed Erin as she continued to stare into the glass. "Is there something you'd like altered, Miss McKinnon?"
"No. No, not a stitch." She touched the skirt gingerly, just a fingertip, as if she was afraid it would dissolve under her hand. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Viceroy, it's only that it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
More than placated, Mrs. Viceroy began to fuss with the hem. "I think your new husband will be pleased. Now let me help you out of it."
Erin surrendered the dress and stood in the plain cotton slip Burke had once unhooked from the clothesline. As the wedding gown was packed away, she slipped into her shirtwaist and thought she understood what Cinderella must have felt like at midnight.
"If I might suggest," the dressmaker continued, "the dress and veil would be most effective with the hair swept up, something very simple and old-fashioned."
"I'm sure you're right," Dee murmured as she continued to watch her cousin. Erin was staring out the window as if she was looking at a blank wall.
"And, naturally, jewelry should be kept to the bare minimum."
"She'll have my pearl earrings for something borrowed."
"What a sweet thought."
"Thank you again, Mrs. Viceroy," Dee said, rising. "I'll show you out."
"No need for you to go up and down those stairs in your condition. I know the way. The dress will be delivered by ten, day after tomorrow."
Day after tomorrow, Erin thought, and felt the chill come back to her skin. Would it always be now or never when it came to Burke?
"A lovely lady," Dee said after she closed the bedroom door.
"It was kind of her to come here."
"Kind is one thing, business another." Since the weight of the twins seemed to grow heavier every day, she sat again. "She would hardly pass up the opportunity to please the future Mrs. Burke Logan. Erin… I'm happy for you, of course. Oh, I feel like a mother hen. Are you sure this is what you want?"
"I'm not sure of anything," Erin blurted out, then sank onto the bed. "I'm scared witless, and I keep thinking I'll wake up and find myself back on the farm and this all something I dreamed up."
"It's real." Dee squeezed her hand. "You have to understan
d that everything happening now is as real as anything can be."
"I do, and that only scares me more. But I love him. I wish I knew him better. I wish he'd talk to me about his family, about himself. I wish Ma was here and my father and the rest of them. But…"
"But," Dee coaxed as she moved over to sit beside her.
"But I love him. It's enough, isn't it?"
"Enough to start." She remembered that in the beginning all she'd had was a blind, desperate love for Travis. Time had given her the rest. "He's not an easy man to know."
"But you like him?"
"I've always had a soft spot for Burke. He's got a kind heart, though he'd rather no one noticed. He's a tough one, but I believe he'd do his best not to hurt someone he loved."
"I don't know if he loves me."
"What's this?"
"It doesn't matter," Erin said quickly, and rose to pace. "Because I love him enough for the two of us."
"Why would he want to marry you if he didn't love you?"
"He wants me." Better to face it now, head-on, she told herself as she turned back to Dee.
"I see." And because she did, she chose her words with care. "Marriage is a mighty big step for a man to take only for a want, a bigger step yet for a man like Burke. If the words are hard to come by, it might be that he hasn't learned how to say them."
"It doesn't matter. I don't need words."
"Of course you do."
"Aye, you're right." She turned back with a sigh. "But they can wait."
"Sometimes a person needs to feel safe before he can speak what's in his heart."
"You're good for me." Erin reached out both hands and grasped Dee's. "I'm happy, and despite the both of us I'm going to make him happy."
Brave words aside, when she stood at the top of the staircase two days later, clinging to Paddy's arm, Erin wasn't sure she could walk as far as the atrium, where the ceremony would take place. The music had begun. In truth, she could hear nothing else. She took one step and stopped. Then she felt Paddy's comforting pat on her hand.
"Come now, lass, you look beautiful. Your father would be proud of you today."
She nodded, took two slow, easy breaths, then descended.
Burke thought the tux would strangle him. If he'd had his way, they would have walked into the courthouse, said a few words and walked out again. Mission accomplished. It had been Dee who had browbeaten him into a wedding. Just a simple one, she'd said, Burke thought with a grimace. A woman was entitled to white lace and flowers once in her life. She herself hadn't been given the choice, but she wanted it for Erin. He'd relented because he'd been certain she couldn't pull it off in the two weeks he'd given her. Of course, she had.
The simple wedding she'd promised had swelled into what he considered a sideshow, with two hundred people eager to watch him juggle. The house was full of white and pink roses, and he'd been forced to pull himself into a tux. She'd ordered a five-tiered wedding cake and enough champagne to fill his pool. Wasn't it enough that he was about to make a lifetime commitment without having a trio of violins behind him?
Burke stood with his hands at his side and his face carefully blank and wondered what in the hell he was doing.
Then he saw her.
Her hair was glowing, warm and vibrant under layers of white tulle. She seemed pale, but her eyes met his without hesitation. How was it he'd never noticed how small she was, how delicate, until now, when she was about to become a permanent part of his life? Permanent. He felt the quick sliver of panic. Then she smiled, slowly, almost questioningly. He held out a hand.
Her fingers were icy. It was a relief to find his equally cold. She held tight and turned to face the priest.
It didn't take long to change lives. A few moments, a few words. She felt the ring slip onto her finger, but she was looking at him. Her hand was steady when she took the gold band from Dee and placed it on Burke's finger.
And it was done. He lifted the veil and touched the warm skin beneath. He brought his lips to hers, lightly, then more strongly. With a laugh, Erin threw her arms around his neck and held him. And it was sealed.
Then, almost from the moment she became his wife, she was spun away to be congratulated, complimented and envied.
It became like a dream, full of music and strangers and frothy wine. She was toasted and fussed over.
Cameras flashed. There was caviar and elegant little hors d'oeuvres and sugared fruit that sparkled like diamonds under the lights. Erin found herself answering questions, smiling and wishing herself a hundred miles away.
Then she was dancing with Burke, and the world snapped back into focus.
"This didn't seem real. Until now." She rested her cheek against his and sighed. "I always dreamed of a day like this. Are we really married, or am I still imagining?"
He lifted her hand, running a finger over her ring. "Looks real to me."
Smiling, she looked down, then caught her breath. "Oh, Burke, it's beautiful." Stunned, she turned her hand so that the layers of diamonds and sapphires glittered. "I never expected anything like this."
"You've had it on for an hour. Haven't you looked?"
"No." It was foolish to cry now, but she felt the tears sting her eyes. "Thank you." She was grateful the music stopped while she still had control. "I'll be back in just a minute."
"You'd better be. I'll be damned if I'll deal with this crowd alone."
She tucked her thumb into her fist so that she could run it along the ring as she hurried upstairs. She just needed a minute, Erin told herself. To compose, to adjust, to believe.
Stepping inside the bedroom, she leaned back against the door and caught her breath. Tonight, she thought, this would be her room, just as Burke would be—was—her husband. She would sleep in this bed, wake in it, tidy the sheets, fuss with the curtains. And one day it would become usual.
No, she thought with a laugh, and hugged herself. It would never become usual. She wouldn't let it. From this day on her life would be special. Because she loved and belonged.
Touching her cheeks to be certain they were cool and dry, she started to open the door. A trio of women were passing on their way downstairs.
"Why, for his money, of course." This from a woman Erin recognized from Adelia's party, one with beautiful white hair and a watered-silk suit. "After all, she hardly knew the man. Why else would she marry him? You don't think she came all the way from Ireland to settle for keeping his books."
"It seems strange that Burke would marry her, a nobody, when he could have had his pick of some of the most acceptable women in the area." The leggy blonde from the party fussed with the snap of her purse.
"I thought they made a lovely couple." The third woman merely shrugged as the white-haired matron looked down her nose. "Really, Dorothy, a man hardly marries without reason."
"No doubt she's got a few tricks up her sleeve. It's one thing to get a man into bed, after all, and another to get him to the altar. Men are charmed easily enough, and bore just as easily. I imagine he'll be finished with her in a year. If she's as smart as I think she is, she'll tuck away a nice settlement—starting with that ring he gave her. Ordered it from Cartier's, you know. Ten thousand. Not a bad start for a little farm girl from nowhere."
The blonde fussed with her hair as they approached the head of the stairs. "It should be interesting to see her struggle to climb the social ladder in the next few months."
"She's not one of us," the white-haired woman announced with a flick of the wrist.
Erin stood with her hand on the knob and watched them descend the stairs. Not one of them? Through the first shock came the tremble of anger. Well, damned if she wanted to be. They were nothing but a bunch of gossiping old broody hens with nothing better to do than make cruel remarks and speculate on the feelings of others.
For his money? Did everyone really believe she'd married Burke for his money? Did he? she wondered with a sudden and very new shock. Anger drained as she let her hand slip off the knob. Oh, s
weet God, did he? Was that what he'd meant when he'd said he could give her what she wanted?
She put her hands to her cheeks again, but they were no longer cool. Could he believe that her feelings were tied up in what he had instead of what he was? She hadn't done anything to show him otherwise, Erin realized with a sinking heart.
But she would. Lifting her head, she started out of the room. She would show him, she would prove to him that it was the man she had married, not his fine house or his rich farm. And to hell with the rest of them.
When she descended the steps this time, she didn't look like the pale, innocent bride. Her color was high, her eyes dark. She might not be one of them, she thought, but she would find a way to fit in. She would make Burke proud of her. Forcing a smile, she walked directly to the woman in watered silk.
"I'm so glad you could come today."
The woman gave Erin a gracious nod as she sipped champagne. "Wouldn't have missed it, my dear. You do make a lovely bride."
"Thank you. But a woman's only a bride for a day, and a wife for a lifetime. If you'll excuse me." She crossed the room, her dress billowing magnificently. Though Burke was surrounded, she moved directly to him and, putting her arms around him, kissed him until the people around them began to murmur and chuckle. "I love you, Burke," she said simply, "and I always will."
He hadn't known he could be moved by words, at least not such well-used ones. But he felt something shift inside him as she smiled. "Is that a conclusion you just came to?"
"No, but I thought it past time I told you."
He thought he'd never nudge the last guest out the door. No one loved a party and free champagne like the privileged class.
Erin stood in the center of the atrium with her hands clasped together. "It's going to take an army to put this place to rights."
"No one's walking through that door for twenty-four hours."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 26
