by Sandra Brown
cut-offs he had soundlessly taken from a bureau drawer, he went outside.
The morning was humid and still. The muggy air was heavily scented with
gardenia and honeysuckle that grew wild in the woods surrounding 22 Indigo
Place. Sunlight filtered through the mist that hovered over St. Gregory's Sound, as
yet to be burned away.
Why? he asked himself. Why had finding her intact been such a stunning
deterrent to him? He had ruminated on the question and had finally drawn some
conclusions.
First, he had never had a virgin before, for the very reason he had given Laura last
night. He hadn't wanted to assume the responsibility. Strange that such a skirtchaser
as he had had any qualms about that, but he always had.
He had never hesitated to further a woman's bad, or even questionable,
reputation, but he had scruples against compromising a woman for the first time.
He also grew squeamish at the thought of inflicting pain. Sex had been nothing
but pure pleasure for him … ever. He hated to think that his partner wasn't
deriving at least some satisfaction from it.
But she's your wife! he argued with himself.
Still, being Laura Nolan's first lover carried awesome obligations with it. He
wasn't sure he could live up to them. It galled him that he felt inferior, but he had
to admit that that was at the crux of his hesitation.
If people labeled you "trash" long enough, eventually you started believing they
were probably right. He and Laura couldn't have been more diametrically
opposite. In the eyes of the world, they were totally unsuited to each other. She
was from one of the most aristocratic families in Georgia. He was trash. Deeply
seated inside him was the notion that he really wasn't good enough for her.
He cursed, kicked up a spray of water, and then came to his feet. He stamped
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along the pier toward the shore, his shoulders hunched defensively.
Hadn't he proved to the world by now that one could overcome his background if
he set his mind to it? Hadn't his fame and fortune bought him invitations into the
homes of the South's most prominent families? What the hell was he trying to
prove to these crackers in Gregory?
He had lived down his past, putting it all behind him, divorcing himself from it.
He didn't even claim his own mother, short of sending her a generous allowance
every month. Why should he feel inferior to anyone?
Yet it had scared him silly when Laura had looked up at him with such trust.
Because riding right up there on his shoulder with his inferiority complex was his
guilt. He would hate to have her know that he had come back to Gregory with the
intention of not only buying 22 Indigo Place, but of marrying her as well. His
seemingly spontaneous proposal had been carefully blueprinted.
She was Indigo Place. They were one and the same. He had wanted them both, the
whole package. Laura and the address represented everything he had always
wanted and could never have … until now.
When his hired scouts had informed him that 22 Indigo Place was for sale, he had
put his relocation plans into effect immediately. The timing couldn't have worked
out better. Mandy was due to start kindergarten when summer vacation was over.
As expeditiously as possible, he had sold his house and furnishings in Atlanta,
finalized the sale of his business, and prepared to put down roots in Gregory.
Living in Indigo Place, having Laura Nolan as his wife, would open doors that had
previously been closed to him.
But, he thought now as he slowed his determined march back toward the house,
Laura Nolan hadn't been what he had expected. She was still pretty in that quiet,
refined way. Her grooming and manners were still impeccable. She still spoke
eloquently. She was unquestionably a lady.
But she was also a woman, and he hadn't counted on that. He had expected to woo
her into marriage, emotionlessly consummate it, then settle into a dignified and
amenable relationship that would benefit them both, but that wouldn't interfere
with their private lives too much. He had imagined he would set up a mistress out
of town, an obliging woman who would slake the lust his wife found base and
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repulsive.
It had come as a major shock to James to discover that the prim and proper girl of
his memory experienced her own lust. Beneath her cool exterior, there smoldered
a fire just waiting for the right man to come along and fan it to life. Laura had rid
his mind of any plans for a mistress or extramarital affairs of any sort. If anyone
slaked his lust, he wanted it to be his wife.
In the few days before their wedding, he'd been thinking much more about the
wedding night than about having his goal within his grasp. Having Laura in his
life had taken prominence over acquiring her social standing. His excitement over
their marriage had disturbed him. It was downright scary to acknowledge that she
was a woman worth cherishing, and not just a decorative trophy that represented
his accomplishments.
Except for Mandy, he had never cared whether anyone loved him or not. He
wanted Laura to love him.
"Daddy!" Mandy hollered from the back door, "Gladys says if you're not in here in
two shakes, your breakfast will get cold."
He waved at his daughter and jogged the remainder of the way to the house.
While he'd been brooding down at the pier, Gladys and Bo had begun their
morning chores. Bo was already tilling the soil in the azalea beds. James could
smell bacon cooking.
As soon as he entered the back door, Mandy handed him a clean T-shirt to pull
on. He gave her a hearty good-morning hug and kiss and together they sat down
at the breakfast table, which Gladys had heaped with food.
"When you get done, I'll fix a tray for you to carry up to Laura," the housekeeper
told him as she refilled his coffee cup. "I reckon she's too tired to come down to
breakfast this morning." Gladys gave him a broad wink. He smiled sickly into his
plate of pancakes.
Making good her promise, Gladys prepared a tray for Laura. "Can I go wake her
up, too, Daddy?" Mandy asked as James carried the tray from the kitchen.
"No, honey pie, you stay here with me. I might need some help," Gladys said.
"It's all right, Gladys." Actually James welcomed Mandy to act as a buffer between
him and his chaste bride. "Laura didn't get to spend much time with Mandy
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yesterday. I'm sure she won't mind."
Mandy tore up the stairs in front of him, but at the door of the master suite he
stopped her from charging in. "Let me go first," he suggested, remembering
Laura's lack of sleeping apparel. When he had left her, one trim leg had been lying
outside the covers and the pink tip of one breast had been peeking from beneath
&n
bsp; the sheet. "You stay here and guard the tray until I call you."
Mandy looked disappointed, but obeyed him as he set the heavy tray on a hall
table. He opened the bedroom door cautiously and crept into the shadowed room.
Going first to the windows, he opened the slats of the shutters to fill the room with
sunlight.
He picked up Laura's robe and gown, which, in his large hands, amounted to no
more than scraps of fabric and lace, and carried them into the dressing room. He
exchanged them for a more modest robe and carried that back to the bed.
He lowered himself to the side. Asleep, Laura looked innocent and extremely
young. Her brown, sun-lightened hair was in an endearing tangle around her face.
It spilled over the pillow alluringly. He couldn't resist touching it, and rubbed a
strand between his fingers. His eyes detailed her slender form beneath the sheet.
Her shoulders were bare above it, as creamy and smooth as magnolia petals, and,
he knew from experience, were just as fragrant.
The lace-edged hem of the sheet was still flirting with one nipple, rosy and flushed
with sleepy warmth, every time she drew a breath. That flirtation had caused it to
peak slightly. His loins tightened and, though he'd just eaten, he felt a gnawing
akin to hunger inside him.
"Laura." Her name sounded so agreeable on his tongue. He hadn't known until
then that Laura was one of his favorite names. "Laura." He repeated her name as
much for the pleasure of speaking it aloud as to awaken her.
Her eyelids lifted drowsily. "Hmm?"
"You have a very impatient stepdaughter waiting outside to say good morning to
you."
She opened her eyes more fully. What greeted them brought her wide awake.
James's lap. Covered in tight, soft denim that gloved his sex.
Shoving her hair out of her face, she sat up, flustered, dragging the sheet with her.
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"Good morning."
"Hi."
Laura wondered then if the sex appeal he exuded was intentional or if it was
something that came naturally. Was it just as much a part of him as his green eyes
and pouty lower lip?
He always emanated a raw masculinity that hinted that he was either thinking
about sex or planning it or remembering it. It mattered not if he was dressed in
suit and tie, shorts and T-shirt, or was naked. He called to mind a predator on the
prowl, but one confident of catching and quelling his prey. There was an inherent
restlessness about him that appealed to every woman and made her want to be
the one who finally assuaged that constant hunger within him.
"Hungry?"
Laura glanced at him quickly. Had he read her mind? "Yes. I think I am."
"Good. Gladys cooked you a breakfast fit for a lumberjack. Do you mind if Mandy
and I visit with you while you eat it?"
"I'd like that."
"I'll call her in. But maybe you'd better slip this on first." He held out the robe he
had brought from the dressing room. Since he offered her no choice, Laura let go
of the sheet. It slipped to her waist, leaving her breasts bare.
James helped guide her arms into the sleeves of the robe, but when she
automatically reached for the buttons, he pushed her hands aside.
Slowly he did up the buttons and carefully tied the ribbon that was threaded
through the casing beneath her breasts. His knuckles bumped into the soft
mounds. Both pretended not to notice.
When he was finished, he sat back and looked at her with satisfaction. He tucked a
loose strand of hair behind her ear. "There, perfect."
Then, just because he couldn't resist it, he cupped her breast and pushed it up
until it swelled over her modest neckline. He bent his head and placed his mouth
against the smooth flesh, blessing it with a lingering kiss.
Laura was so overcome by the tender gesture, she could barely find enough voice
to speak when James opened the door moments later and Mandy came rushing
in. She jumped into the middle of the bed and greeted Laura with an enthusiastic
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kiss.
"Is this where Daddy slept?" she asked, plumping up the extra pillow beside Laura.
"Yes," Laura said, nervously cutting her eyes up at James, who was placing the
breakfast tray over her lap.
"Just like on TV," Mandy said, beaming a smile.
"TV?" Laura sipped the coffee James had considerately poured for her before
sitting down on the edge of the bed again. His hip was propped against hers.
"On TV there's always a mommy and a daddy and they always sleep in the same
bed. But I didn't have a mommy, so my daddy always had to sleep by himself.
Now he doesn't. I'm glad you're my mommy now. "
Laura set down her cup. Emotion was so thick in her throat, she would have been
unable to swallow. "So am I, Mandy." She extended her arms to the child. Mandy
launched herself against Laura and hugged her tight.
Over Mandy's head, she looked at James. He kissed his finger and laid the kiss on
Laura's soft lips.
* * *
Their days fell into a routine of sorts. James was often on the telephone in the
mornings and early afternoons. Laura suspected that he was doing just what he
had said he was going to do: look for an interesting way to make his next million.
Even in his youth he'd been wild, but never shiftless, never a laggard.
He discussed some of his investment ideas with Laura. She was astounded by his
ambition. Nothing intimidated him. He dismissed obstacles left and right. He
made the most outlandish ideas sound feasible. The correspondence he received
from respected industrialists indicated that she wasn't the only one who thought
his ideas were practical and workable.
They made frequent trips into town. Laura got over her skittishness at being seen
with James and adjusted to playing the role of mother to Mandy. She basked in
the enjoyment of being part of a family. She wasn't impervious to the appreciative
glances cast in James's direction and took a secret, almost smug, satisfaction in
being the woman on his arm.
People spoke to them cordially, but socially James still wasn't fully accepted.
Everyone was in awe of his wealth, but no one was quite willing to accept him into
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the fold. He never mentioned it, but Laura knew this greatly disturbed him, more
for Mandy's sake than his own.
"James," she ventured one evening. They were sitting in the front parlor. Mandy
had fallen asleep with her head in Laura's lap while Laura was reading her a story.
James was perusing the Wall Street Journal.
"Hmm?"
"Why don't we give a party?"
He tipped the corner of the paper down. "A party?"
"It's been a long time since a party has been held at Twenty-Two Indigo Place –
long before Father died."
"What did you have in mind?"
He asked the question with almost hostile gruffness, but she could tell he was
interested. "Oh, something casual with lots of people and live music. While the
weather is still warm. We could open up all the doors so the guests could meander
outside. Maybe string lanterns in the trees and out onto the pier. Gladys and Bo
would be thrilled to show the place off since you've made so many improvements.
What do you think?"
He folded his newspaper, laid it aside, and stared at her for a lengthy moment.
"Would this be a party for funsy's sake or do you have an ulterior motive?"
"What kind of motive could I have?"
"It would be a coming-out party for Mandy and me, wouldn't it?"
Laura steadily returned her husband's gaze. They had been married for several
weeks, but she was still his wife in name only. She knew he wanted her. Often she
caught him looking at her wistfully or with outright lust. The desire he couldn't
mask reciprocated her own. They got along well during the day. They never lacked
for something interesting or entertaining to talk about. Laughter was a part of
most of their conversations.
But when they entered the bedroom each night, they became two different people,
who were uneasy around each other. Tension was as thick as molasses. They
undressed in silence. Once in bed, they would face each other. Always in the dark.
He would caress her, never in erogenous places. Sometimes he would kiss her, but
never for long and never passionately.
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Laura's nerves were constantly on edge. Her skin itched beneath the surface, and
no amount of scratching would ease it. She was wound up like a spring and was
constantly on guard against breaking free.
She wanted to be possessed by her husband. It was as simple as that. She wanted
to know the hard, demanding power of his body inside hers. Why he chose not to
make love to her remained a mystery. Surely he didn't intend to keep her a virgin
forever. By now he should have grown accustomed to the idea and worked it out
in his mind. Perhaps he was waiting for an encouraging sign from her. Was this
the opportunity she'd been waiting for to make her urgent desires known?
