SIN CITY WEDDING

by Katherine Garbera

  "Well, that's kind of why I was going back in the bathroom."

  "You don't want me to keep my hands to myself? No problem, Rissa." He stood up and walked toward her.

  "Stop, Jake. I need to talk to you."

  He didn't like the sound of that.

  "About what?"

  "Our intimate relations."

  Sometimes you could tell Larissa was a librarian. "You mean our sex life."

  "Yes. I think I gave you the wrong impression last night."

  "No, you didn't, sweetheart," he said. Last night had been raw and earthy. He crossed to her and took her in his arms. "I still respect you."

  "Oh, Jake. Not about that. I … I want to stick by our original agreement."

  "Which one?" he asked.

  She sighed and tilted her head to the side as she looked up at him. "The platonic one."

  He cursed under his breath and stepped away from her. The woman was trying to drive him insane. "Why?"

  "Because sex makes things complicated. I'm sorry, I should have spoken up sooner, but I wanted a wedding night to remember."

  "Good. I did, too. But this doesn't have to end."

  "Yes it does."

  "Explain it to me," he said.

  "This wasn't real. The wedding, the setting, the dress. Everything was playacting."

  "It felt real to me when I took those vows that made you my wife."

  She blanched and looked away from him. "Me, too."

  "Baby, I'm not like your dad. I'm not going to do to Peter what he did to you."

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, holding herself so tightly that he knew he wasn't saying the right thing. Hell, he had no idea what the right words were. It was like being in virgin territory; he knew how to seduce Larissa into his bed, but he had no clue how to keep her there.

  "I'm waiting to hear you say you know I won't hurt Peter."

  "Of course I know that, Jake. The first time I saw you with him, I knew I'd cheated both of you out of something."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "Me," she said, softly. "I'm the problem."

  "You know I won't hurt you."

  "What if I hurt you?"

  "I'm not that fragile," he said. What kind of wimp did she think he was?

  "That's what I was afraid of."

  "I'm not following."

  "I can't hurt you because I'm nothing more than a make-believe wife to you. You don't care for me."

  "Don't put words in my mouth. I care for you more than I do any other woman."

  "Right now."

  "Larissa, there are no guarantees in life. You know that and so do I. I'm not sure what you think you're going to achieve by not sleeping with me."

  "I'm trying to keep from falling in love with you, idiot. I don't want to be vulnerable to any man."

  "I'm not just any man, Larissa. I'm your husband."

  She shook her head and turned away. There was a knock on the door and Jake didn't move to answer it. He wanted to hash this out to a conclusion, but Larissa was already retreating behind that wall of icy cool that she used to keep him out. "Room service," they both heard from the door.

  "This isn't over," he warned as he exited the bedroom.

  * * *

  Larissa was dressed by the time Jake returned. She'd clipped up her hair and was fastening her sandals when he walked back into the room.

  "In a hurry?" he asked.

  "No. I just didn't want…"

  "To appear weak," he said. Cursing under his breath he stalked to his suitcase and removed his clothing for the day.

  "Go eat, Larissa," he said without looking at her.

  She stood in the doorway. "Didn't you want to finish our conversation?"

  He gave a derisive snort. "No. I don't think so. I've had enough of trying to convince you I'm respectable." He walked away from her without a backward glance.

  She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms, feeling colder and more alone than ever. She'd expected Jake to say many things when she told him she wanted to stop sleeping with him. But she hadn't anticipated the depth of his anger.

  She picked at the breakfast he'd ordered for them, but could only manage drinking the coffee. The phone rang and she answered it.

  "Jacob Danforth please," a male voice said.

  "One moment. Can I tell him who's calling?"

  "Ted Larson."

  Larissa set the handset on the table and crossed their suite to the bathroom door. The shower had stopped. She rapped on the door and Jake opened it, shaving cream on his face and a white towel slung low around his lean hips.

  She swallowed. His hair was damp and a bead of moisture trailed down his neck to his chest. Unconsciously she lifted her hand to catch the drop. Jake caught her hand in his and held her captive. She glanced up into his eyes.

  She could read nothing in his gaze. Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life by demanding a celibate marriage with this man?

  "Change your mind already?" he asked. Sometimes it was as if he could see straight to her soul. Had she changed her mind? It would be so easy to loose herself in the web of sensuality that Jake created, but in the end, she knew she'd have a tough time moving on when he was tired of her. And Jake had never stayed with one woman too long.

  She shook herself. "You have a call."

  He rubbed her hand over his chest before letting it drop. She flexed her fingers, raking her nails over his skin. His towel stirred. She wanted to stay. What had she been thinking to put the brakes on this? "Take a message for me."

  Her hand tingled and her body said her mind was on the verge of insanity. She couldn't live with Jake and not be his woman. "Okay."

  She pivoted on her heel, but her legs were weak and she didn't know if she was going to be able to walk away from him.

  "Rissa?"

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"

  "You never answered my question."

  "I'm afraid to," she said, and walked away, firmly closing the bedroom door behind her. She needed to regain her perspective. She needed to talk to her son. She missed him. She'd talked to him right before the ceremony yesterday.

  She took a message from Mr. Larson and left the note on Jake's briefcase. She dialed the number to Jake's parents' house. The housekeeper answered on the third ring.

  "This is Larissa Nielsen … Danforth. May I speak to Peter?"

  "Just a moment, ma'am."

  "Hi, Mama."

  Tears burned the back of her eyes. God, she missed him. They'd never been apart before this. "Hey, baby. I miss you."

  "Me, too. I'm having so much fun here. I'm going to see some horses today."

  Peter's happiness was palpable on the phone. Realizing she'd given her son something he never should have been denied made all the sacrifices worth it. She had to remember her marriage to Jake was for Peter. It wasn't for her and it certainly wasn't for Jake. "Good."

  "When will you be home?" he asked.

  Larissa wasn't sure of the exact time since Jake had their tickets but he'd said some time this evening. "Before bedtime."

  "I love you, Mama."

  "Love you too."

  They said their goodbyes and she talked to Miranda briefly about what time to expect them. It felt weird to be discussing her son with someone else. She hung up and sat on the edge of the coffee table where she'd taken the call.

  "You okay?" Jake asked from the doorway. He wore a pair of chinos and a shirt in a flattering shade of blue.

  She nodded.

  "Who was on the phone?"

  "Ted Larson. I took his number for you. I called to check on Peter."

  "How's he doing?"

  "Great. They're going to see some horses today."

  "That would be the stables near the house. Does he ride?"

  "Jake, he's three."

  "So?"

  "No, he doesn't ride."

  "We'll have to teach him," Jake said.

  "Is this going to work?" she asked without th
inking.

  "Yes, Rissa, it is. I'm angry right now, but I'll get over it and we're going to work things out," he said, and there was a promise in his voice that she trusted.

  "For Peter?"

  Jake crossed the room to her side and tipped her head back with his knuckle under her chin. "For us."

  Then he slipped away to make his phone call. She cautioned herself not to believe him but she couldn't help it. Hope had been born and she believed they had a chance at forever.

  * * *

  Eleven

  « ^ »

  "Oh, no," Larissa said as they pulled to a stop in front of his town house a little before ten that night. Peter was sleeping fitfully in the back seat and Larissa had been in a quiet mood since they'd left Vegas.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I recognize that car," she said.

  Jake waited.

  "It's Jasmine Carmody. What's she doing here?"

  Jake reached over and patted Larissa's hand. "Probably checking up to see if our marriage is a real one."

  "Let's go to my place. We can hide out until she leaves."

  "I'm not hiding from anyone. Especially a reporter."

  "I guess you're right."

  "Of course, I am."

  Jake pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. Larissa nervously twisted her fingers together. "Calm down. We're in this together."

  He leaned across the seat and brushed his lips over hers. She sighed into his mouth and he hesitated, then deepened the kiss. He'd decided in the shower this morning to let Larissa set the pace for their marriage. She had too much sensuality in her to keep them apart for long. And once he'd gotten past his frustration, he'd realized she had a good point. Sex between the two of them was a convenient way to avoid talking.

  Hell, he'd been the first one to use it that night in Atlanta when they'd conceived their son.

  "Ready?"

  "I guess."

  "Chin up, Rissa. We're a team now and I don't think one determined reporter can defeat us."

  She smiled at him and he felt ten feet tall. He climbed out of the truck.

  "Mr. Danforth, I'm Jasmine Carmody with the Savannah Morning News. Can I have a few minutes of your time?" the stunning African-American woman asked.

  "For what?"

  "To discuss the circumstances of your recent marriage."

  "What do you want to know?" Jake asked. Larissa got out of the truck and walked around to his side. Jake pulled her close to his side and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

  "Very touching," Jasmine said. "I'm curious about something."

  "What's that?" Jake asked.

  "How does it feel to know you're the second generation of wealthy Southern gentlemen to be deceived by a Nielsen woman?"

  Larissa stiffened under his arm.

  "I didn't deceive Jake."

  "Of course, you didn't, Ms. Nielsen."

  "It's Mrs. Danforth," Jake said. "And Larissa didn't trap me into marriage, Ms. Carmody. I trapped her."

  "Do tell," Jasmine said.

  "That's private and personal. I don't think we have anything further to say."

  "I'm not giving up," Jasmine said. "I'm going to write this story with or without your cooperation."

  "Then write this—Larissa and I have been friends for over ten years and our marriage has brought us the kind of happiness neither of us thought possible."

  Jake lowered his head and kissed Larissa, hoping she'd understand from his embrace that he meant those words. Their marriage wasn't a temporary media fix, as it had started out—it was real and lasting. Because with Larissa, he'd found a place in his family. And a family of his own.

  Peter stirred in the back seat of the car, coughing and crying out. Jake opened the back door and lifted out his son.

  "Where's Mama?"

  "Right here, sweetie," Larissa said, rubbing her hand over their son's head.

  Peter squirmed in Jake's arms, leaning over toward Larissa. Jake let the boy go though he didn't want to. Peter coughed again and Larissa cradled him close to her.

  "We better get him inside," Larissa said. Jake closed the door and put his arm around Larissa. Jasmine continued to watch them and Jake had the feeling that they hadn't seen the last of her. But it didn't change the way he felt. He wasn't going to let a reporter hurt Larissa. She'd carved out a life for herself the only way she knew how.

  "I didn't think she'd find out about your dad."

  "Reilly Peyton isn't my dad. He was a sperm donor."

  Jake laughed. She didn't sound angry with Jasmine. "You're okay that she found out."

  "I'd rather she hadn't. But when you came to my defense I realized something."

  Peter coughed again and Larissa rubbed his back. "I hope he's not getting sick."

  "I'll call the doctor when we get inside," Jake said. He knew he should focus on Peter, but in the back of his mind her words lingered. "What'd you realize?"

  "That having you by my side made all the difference in the world. Even if she prints her article—and I'm sure she will—it won't be me standing in front of Savannah society by myself. We're a family and together we'll decide what makes us Danforths. I've never really felt like I could fit in at home, either."

  "Why not?"

  "My father put a lot of pressure on me to be the responsible one. That eldest sibling thing, I guess. I've dropped the ball a lot, Rissa. You know I'm not perfect, but I'm not going to drop the ball this time."

  "I know, Jake," she said. She reached up to touch him with her free hand.

  "Let's get this little guy into his pajamas and then finish this conversation," Jake said.

  "Mama?" Peter said, his breath rasping in and out. His chest was heaving with the effort to breathe.

  Jake didn't like it. "Has he done that before?"

  "No. Call the doctor," Larissa said. Though she tried to keep her voice calm, he saw her hands tremble.

  Jake grabbed one of Larissa's laminated index cards and dialed the doctor's number. Larissa sat on the couch holding their son close and murmuring softly to him. But Peter kept struggling to breathe and Larissa finally stood up. She paced around the room with their son in her arms. Jake was suddenly afraid that now that he'd found the happiness he'd always sought, he wouldn't be allowed to keep it.

  Jake got the doctor on the phone and described Peter's symptoms. Dr. Gold instructed Jake to take Peter to the hospital, saying he thought Peter might be having an acute asthma attack.

  Jake got his family out of the house and into the car, his heart pounding as he raced to the hospital.

  * * *

  Larissa had never been so scared in her entire life. Peter was hooked up to a drip IV and a nebulizer. His entire chest heaved with each breath he tried to take.

  She clung tight to her son's hand and willed him to breathe easier, but she knew that wasn't possible. Jake rested his big strong hand on her shoulder, and she sensed he was urging her to share her burden with him but she couldn't.

  She wouldn't be able to relax until Peter was off this machine and breathing easier, though she appreciated having Jake and his family around her. And she knew that Peter did as well.

  Tonight she'd had her first taste of what being a Danforth meant. Instead of sitting in the waiting area until it was their turn, they'd been given a private room and admitted with little trouble. Dr. Gold had seen Peter once and this was the second breathing treatment that Peter had taken.

  Jake's parents had arrived and were now in the waiting area. Jake hadn't left her side the entire time. He held her hand or Peter's and made sure they were very aware of his presence.

  He was a solid support for Larissa and she realized she loved him. Watching him talk quietly to their son, and handle every detail that came up in the hospital had shown her what she'd secretly been afraid to admit all along.

  Jake wasn't just her husband, he was her love. She also realized, when he'd talked to his family, that Jake kept the depth of his feelings a secret. It was humbl
ing to know she might be the only one who realized Jake was so much more than the easygoing, successful businessman that he presented to the world.

  Peter finished his breathing treatment and lay back against the pillows. He looked so small. Jake tucked Mr. Bear and Peter's worn blanket up next to him. Larissa leaned down and kissed him.

  "Mama? Can we say our poem?"

  "We sure can, baby."

  Quietly she started Frost's poem and Jake and Peter joined in. By the time they'd gotten to the last line, Peter's eyes drifted close.

  Larissa turned to Jake. "I feel so helpless."

  "Me too."

  She felt like crying. When she'd made her decision not to tell Jake about Peter, she'd only had Reilly Peyton as an example—a man who'd never wanted to be a father. But from the first moment Jake had known about Peter, he'd proved that fatherhood was a natural part of him.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?" Jake asked.

  She didn't want to let him know how desperately she was coming to need him. "Like what?"

  He shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure."

  She slid off the bed and sat on his lap. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him tightly to her. God, she didn't think she'd survive if he left her.

  "Thank you," she said against his lips.

  "For what?" he asked, running his hands down her back and hugging her to him.

  He smelled good. His cologne was spicy and woodsy, a direct contrast to the sterile scent of the hospital. "For being here. I'm so glad I didn't have to deal with this on my own."

  He looked at her. His brown eyes were serious and she remembered all the promises he'd made her. Promises that she'd been afraid to believe. "That's my job now."

  "Are you sure?" she asked, still afraid to accept his words.

  He squeezed her tight and then tucked her head under his chin. "Hell, yes. I'm not letting either of you out of my sight."

  "Oh, Jake."

  Jake kissed her with a passion that she sensed concealed hidden depths. She clung to him. For the first time in her life she really needed someone by her side and it scared her. Almost as much as her fear of being left alone. She watched Peter sleeping. Each exhalation wheezed a little.

  Someone cleared their throat and she glanced up to see Harold Danforth in the doorway. Jake's dad was dressed in chinos and a button-down shirt. He looked tired and tense but his face filled with love when he glanced at his sleeping grandson.