An Arranged Marriage

by Susan Fox

  But he hadn’t worked his way up from the poverty and homelessness of his childhood by being soft or by veering from the goals he’d set for himself. Marrying Allison Lancaster was just the next goal on his list. If he thought of her in those terms, what he had to do to get her troubled him less.

  He turned away as she put out a hand to ring the doorbell. He strode from the den into the entry hall and then to the front door. The big chimes were echoing away when he opened it.

  Allison’s soft, “May I come in?” was a bit breathless. Blue wasn’t wearing his black Stetson, but he seemed a giant somehow. His handsome face was stern, though she detected a faint wariness in the blue of his eyes.

  He didn’t answer verbally, but opened the big door to allow her to enter. She took four or five steps across the marble floor before she came to an uncertain halt and turned toward him.

  He’d closed the door and stood staring over at her. Nothing in his expression gave her a clue to his thoughts until he said, “I put an old desk and a couple of chairs in the front room there—the den.” The gesture he made signaled her to precede him. Allison walked toward the open door and stepped through. Blue entered behind her and pushed the door not quite shut.

  “The furniture is old and ugly, but it’ll do until the house is done and I can get to Dallas to buy something better.”

  His offhand remark about the old desk and the paint-spattered chairs seemed a sensible one to make, but something in his voice suggested he was somehow ashamed of it. A swift glance at his hard expression made her think she’d imagined the impression.

  He reached for the folded white sheet that rested on a corner of the desk. He picked up the sheet and gave it a flick that unfolded it before he draped it over the better of the two mismatched chairs. He automatically repositioned the other chair opposite hers to straddle it and sit down before he realized she hadn’t moved.

  As if he were a schoolboy who realized he’d forgotten his manners, Blue abruptly stood up and waved a hand toward the sheeted chair. “Go ahead and sit down, Miz Allison. The sheet’s new. Your dress will be fine.”

  Allison moved toward the chair and sat down stiffly, though her face was hot. She hadn’t hesitated because she was afraid of getting her dress dirty. “I don’t worry about my clothing as much as you might imagine, Mr. Sumner. I was waiting for you to invite me to sit.”

  Blue slowly eased back down and rested his muscular forearms across the chair back. He gave her a level look and said in a rough voice, “I reckon I don’t need to tell you that I’m full of bad manners. Might be a while before I’m ready for polite society.”

  Allison stared at him, caught off guard by his directness. She felt herself soften toward him and found herself saying, “Good manners are really nothing more than making the other person feel comfortable.”

  “Then my manners must be especially bad,” he said, his voice going lower and more raspy, “because you don’t look too comfortable.”

  Allison glanced down at her clasped hands, a bit amazed to feel that her palms were damp. “It’s the situation that makes me uncomfortable, Mr. Sum—”

  “Blue.”

  The curt correction made her lift her eyes and look at him.

  “The way you say Mr. Sumner makes me feel like I’m half a state away from you.”

  Allison’s laced fingers flexed and her hands were gripping each other almost painfully. Wanting to ignore his remark about the distance she almost wished they had, she changed the subject. “I’ve come to ask you a few questions. Rather delicate ones.”

  Blue looked at her somberly. “Good. I don’t want to worry about a question bein’ delicate or not. We’ve got things to talk about and I’d rather you say what you mean.”

  Allison nodded, then got to the point. “My uncle seems to believe he’s trading a niece for a multimillion-dollar bank account. He believes that once you’re in the family, you’ll allow him to advise you on financial matters.”

  Blue watched her calmly. “What I decide to do about your uncle and his bank is separate from you.”

  Allison tried to read his unsmiling expression. He’d worded his reply oddly and she wasn’t certain how to take it. His face gave nothing away that would clarify his remark. Allison continued.

  “Arranged marriages are usually about money. I feel as if—” she managed to get a breath “—as if I’m being bought.”

  “I need a wife,” he said with that same unruffled calm. “I’m particular about the woman I want.”

  “But there are lots of women in Texas, Mr.—Blue. There must be hundreds of women around, even for a man who’s particular about the woman he wants.”

  His unsmiling expression cracked a bit and one corner of his mouth quirked downward. “I reckon by now just about every available female in Texas has thrown herself into my path. Money seems to make ’em bold.”

  “So you think they only want you for your money? How are they different from…me?”

  “Because you’re the one I want.” The low drawl wrapped around her. She sensed the intensity behind the burning look he was giving her and felt her heart flutter as his masculinity overwhelmed her.

  In that moment she glimpsed his utter determination to marry her, by whatever means. He wasn’t touching her, he didn’t even try, but she felt his possession as surely as if he’d swept her into his arms.

  Some bit of self-preservation—and selfishness—prompted her to tell him, “This isn’t the marriage I’d hoped to have.”

  “It’s the one I want.”

  The simple statement should have made her angry. After all, it was a blunt reminder of their inequality—of the fact that they weren’t equals, that he had all the money and all the choices. And that she had none.

  But Allison sensed another meaning behind the words. A man from Blue’s background, who didn’t believe in love, might not want to get a wife any other way. And, she realized, a man with social limitations might not know how.

  The perception kept her from taking offense.

  “Do you have a date in mind for the wedding?”

  The date he named was only a bit more than a month away. Allison couldn’t help the panic she felt.

  “Th-then you prefer we see a justice of the peace?”

  Blue shook his head. “I want it big, in your church, with your preacher, and grand enough that it makes the big city papers. If your uncle can’t spring for everything, send the bills to me.”

  Allison couldn’t conceal her reluctance to have the huge, very public wedding he wanted. “A wedding like that could cost a lot of money.”

  “How much?” His bluntness continued to take her aback.

  “Why, a wedding such as the one you describe could cost upwards of twenty thousand dollars.”

  “I’m good for it.”

  She glanced away, not able to withstand the directness of his gaze. Or the embarrassment she felt at his offer to pay for an expensive wedding. She determined then that if it took every penny of her trust fund, she’d pay for her own wedding.

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. S—”

  “Blue.” The soft drawl carried a faint demand that brought her gaze back to his. “A wife oughtta call her husband by his first name.”

  “Then you really want to go through with this.” It was a statement she made so she couldn’t possibly mistake things—or keep a reserve of hope.

  That seemed to be the signal for him to stand. He straightened to his full height and swung his chair out of the way. With his blue gaze fixed purposely on hers, he stepped nearer and reached for her hand to pull her to her feet.

  Flustered and excited by the strong, yet gentle grip of his callused fingers around hers, she couldn’t break contact with the fiery gleam in his gaze.

  “Just so there’s no mistake about what I want. And to help you remember there’s no point in calling me Mr. Sumner…”

  He caught her against him, lifting her slightly off the floor as his lips descended to hers. The kis
s was only marginally gentle. Shock jolted her, and the involuntary gasp of air she took gave him the sudden access he needed to deepen the kiss. The blatant carnality of his mouth stole her breath and made her head spin.

  The feel of his hard body was a new shock, and though she wasn’t vastly experienced with men, even she knew he was aroused. His heat enveloped her while the forceful, yet expert invasion of her mouth turned her insides to a hot pulsing mass.

  When he finally broke off the kiss, she was incapable of standing. She was only dazedly aware that she was clinging to him, and that even when his arms loosened around her, she was plastered against him.

  “I reckon sex won’t be something we have to put off till we know each other better,” he remarked, his voice a husky rasp.

  His words penetrated the sensual haze that fogged her brain, and she made a weak effort to shake her head. My God, she hardly knew the man!

  As if he’d sensed her objection, his lips touched hers again. This time, his kiss was so tender, so wickedly persuasive, that she was incapable of thought. Years of well-bred reserve fell away, and she slid the manicured fingers of one hand into his thick dark hair and made a fist to hang on.

  She’d been kissed before. She’d found kissing pleasant enough, but nothing in her experience could have prepared her for either of Blue’s kisses—the carnal devouring one, or this achingly sensual one that seemed to reach deep inside her and caress her very essence.

  An emotion spiraled gently in her chest, swelling her heart. Before she could quite identify it, his lips eased away.

  Her lashes fluttered up and she dizzily met the raging fire in his eyes.

  “Say my name.”

  The demand was almost harsh, but Allison didn’t feel threatened. Her soft, “Blue,” was breathless with the sensuality that gripped her. She realized with some surprise that she’d moved her hand and that she was touching his lean cheek, stroking it.

  Her even softer, “Blue,” repeated the name that she suddenly realized would forever be attached to the strange new emotion she felt.

  When Blue reached up to gently capture her fingers and pull them away from his cheek, she felt oddly disappointed. He slowly released her and eased her away from him.

  The loss of his body heat seemed to calm the turbulent sensuality between them. But only slightly. Even when they were no longer touching, something a lot like raw electricity danced and snapped between them.

  “I reckon you’ll want to get yourself back to town and start makin’ plans,” he said gruffly. “I’ll call on you tomorrow afternoon to see how you’re comin’ along.”

  Allison was still too in thrall to speak. She felt an unexpected nick of pain when she sensed Blue withdraw emotionally. Suddenly aloof, he escorted her to the door, then outside and down the walk to her car. He opened the door for her, then shut it solidly once she was behind the wheel.

  She drove all the way to the highway before she realized she was shaking violently.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE month before the wedding passed in a frantic blur. Aunt Pet regained her good health and they both waded into wedding preparations like a pair of maniacs.

  To her surprise, Allison rarely saw Blue, though she spoke to him daily on the phone to keep him apprised of wedding preparations. He sent his decorator to her aunt’s house and even Aunt Pet was pleased by the plans he and the decorator had worked out, subject to Allison’s approval.

  At Aunt Pet’s insistence, she and Allison spent an afternoon looking through the ranch mansion to give them both a better idea of the furnishings that would have to be bought. Though Aunt Pet was reserved and cautious with Blue and he was aloof with both of them, Aunt Pet came away from the ranch deeply impressed by the house he’d built.

  Pet was sparing in her personal remarks to Allison about her future husband, but she did allow that Blue Sumner was ruggedly handsome and had a macho presence that could be considered exciting.

  No one mentioned that this was an arranged marriage between two strangers, and sometimes Allison got so caught up in preparations that she almost forgot. Until she spoke to Blue on the phone or saw him face-to-face. He grew more remote by the day. It was as if the kisses they’d shared that Sunday afternoon had never happened. He seemed even more a stranger to her, and at times, she had to struggle to keep her downcast spirits about the marriage to herself.

  While she and Pet were busy with the wedding details, Blue’s house was finished and he set about ordering the furniture Allison had chosen. He also hired a butler, a cook and a housekeeper.

  By the night of the rehearsal dinner, they remained little more than acquaintances. By mutual agreement, they’d limited their wedding party to a maid of honor and a best man, who turned out to be one of the wealthiest ranchers in the area.

  Blue had once worked as a foreman for Ty Cameron, but their friendship seemed to have withstood Blue’s distance and years away from the Cameron Ranch.

  Charles was impressed by the connection between the two and, to Allison’s horror, had immediately begun to speculate about attracting Ty to some of the mortgage investments he had in mind for Blue. His frequent comments about saving the bank continued to trouble her, as did his ongoing refusal to report the embezzlement.

  Blue drove her directly home after the dinner, but they were more stilted than ever with each other. Their conversation was so sparse and infrequent that it was as if they hadn’t spoken to each other at all.

  On the night before her wedding, Allison laid in her bed a long time, staring up into the darkness, certain she was about to make the mistake of her life.

  The ceremony at Chaney Community Church was the largest ever held in Chaney, and the most perfect.

  Allison had been to a lot of weddings. Something seemed to go wrong in every one of them, from a wedding cake that leaned off center, to a flower girl who dropped her basket of rose petals and burst into howls of dismay.

  Nothing, however minor, went wrong at their wedding. On the other hand, everything was as wrong as it could possibly be.

  Two strangers repeated vows to love, honor and cherish. Two strangers were pronounced man and wife. Two strangers turned fully toward each other, hesitated for the lifting of the veil, then pressed cool, stiff lips together at the preacher’s enthusiastic, “You may now kiss your bride, Mr. Sumner.”

  Those same two strangers, perfectly poised and elegant in their wedding finery, smiled and walked down the aisle arm in arm. Later, they posed for wedding photos that the photographer swore were worthy of a high fashion layout.

  Afterward, two strangers got into the limousine that took them to the Sumner Ranch for the reception. They officially received their guests, fed each other the traditional bite of wedding cake, then toured the gift room where a mountain of wedding presents had been displayed.

  By the time Allison could slip up to the master suite, where Aunt Pet would assist her with her gown, her nerves were shattered. The traveling suit she’d planned to wear to Dallas was laid out neatly on the huge bed, but suddenly, she was reluctant to face the idea of a honeymoon.

  She’d not allowed herself to dwell on thoughts of what would come after the ceremony, but the sight of that pale pink suit on the bed triggered every worry and misgiving—every fear—that she’d repressed about their wedding night and all the other nights that would follow.

  The memory of those two kisses a month of Sundays ago, flooded her mind. A flash of heat burst up from deep inside, and she suddenly felt dizzy.

  I reckon sex won’t be something we have to put off till we know each other better, Blue had said.

  Allison couldn’t recall that she’d actually voiced an objection, and she couldn’t help the panic she felt.

  Surely Blue wouldn’t expect her to consummate their marriage right away. If he’d truly expected to, surely he would have taken time to actually court her these last weeks, or at the very least, he’d have given them time alone to get to know each other.

  Allison
pressed a shaky hand to her middle, then forced herself to give a little laugh. The stress of putting together the huge wedding on such short notice was beginning to tell on her. She was keyed up and exhausted and this worry about intimacy with Blue was likely nothing more than bridal nerves.

  Determined to calm herself, she crossed to the huge dresser mirror to start removing the hairpins that anchored her headpiece. She was facing a bit away from the mirror to reach an elusive pin when the bedroom door opened, then closed.

  She called out a relieved, “There you are, Aunt Pet. I can’t seem to locate all the pins—”

  She turned her head to peer into the mirror’s reflection of the room, expecting to see her aunt. Instead Blue stood just inside the door.

  Slowly his eyes traced every bead and design detail of her gown, lingering hotly on every curve along the way. As almost an afterthought, his gaze at last came up to hers, and he stared intently at her flushed face.

  The blatant lust in his gaze seemed to blaze higher. Allison was barely breathing.

  “I was…expecting Aunt Pet,” she said.

  Blue’s steady look never wavered. “She won’t be coming up now.”

  Allison shook her head. “I need her help,” she said as he started toward her. A fluttering cluster of nerves surged to her throat, choking her soft voice to a ragged whisper. “With the buttons.”

  Blue was so handsome in the severe black tuxedo that she couldn’t make herself look away. The starched white of his shirt emphasized his tanned, weathered skin tones, which contrasted strikingly with the fiery blue of his eyes. The cut of the tuxedo faithfully followed his broad-shouldered, lean-hipped build, and Allison couldn’t tell if she was excited or terrified by the sight of his breath-stealing physique.

  Now that he could look at her as much as he liked, Blue couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride. She was decked out like a fairy princess, all white lace and pearly beads and satin. The stiff white veil she still wore haloed her head and shoulders all the way to the floor, hinting at angel wings.