Lifting her head, she looked at him, trying to puzzle out the answer as though it were hidden in the sharp angles and planes of Reed’s face, in the intensity of his burnished eyes. The answer came to her more easily than she expected.
She had to give herself the chance, give Reed and Betina the chance. The notion was both simple and wildly risky. And in the bargain Jason would gain a mentor—though Ann admitted that minor victory was only a small part of her motivation.
“How soon do you need to get married?” she asked.
The tension around his sensual lips eased ever so slightly. “Next week. The sooner the better.”
Her mind reeled. “That isn’t much time to plan—”
“We can get the license on Monday and get married on Wednesday. If the adoption people show up before that, I’ll figure a way to hold them off.”
“You could tell them we’re…engaged.” She nearly choked on the word. It didn’t come close to describing their unorthodox relationship. From Reed’s perspective, he’d probably say theirs was a business agreement to skirt unfair adoption regulations. She was less sure how to describe her own feelings.
“Knowing the government, they’ll show up in their own sweet time trying to make me sweat.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck where his saddle—brown hair swept the top of his blue collar. “Have you got a minister or judge you can ask to do the deed?”
“Yes, I, uh, guess so.” Unless she came to her senses by then. But she’d already cast her lot with Reed. For her, there’d be no turning back.
“Okay, that’s settled then.”
“I take it you’re not planning an extended honeymoon?”
His lips twitched with the threat of a smile, and he eyed her with blatant male appreciation. “You ready to negotiate the conjugal rights part now?”
A lump of anticipation thickened in her throat. “I’d being lying if I didn’t admit there was a certain…sexual chemistry between us.”
His smile broadened. “I do like an honest woman.”
“Besides,” she hastened to add, her mind rationalizing her impulsive decision, “if you draw a perceptive social worker, she’s bound to recognize this hasty marriage you’ve conjured up is phony if we haven’t, uh, been intimate. She might deny your petition to adopt Bets.” Oh, Lord! What had she just said? Agreed to?
“It’s a real nice thing you’re doing, sweet sugarAnnie. And I promise, you can look forward to our wedding night.”
reached for the baby she held, determined to duplicate his victory. Bemused, she allowed him to take the baby from her.
The sound of another bottle rocket firing startled both of them. Spit—up ran down the front of Alex’s well—pressed, expensive shirt.
“Oh, dear!” Daphne started to reach for the baby but instantly stopped herself. Alex had said he wanted to be a father to his children. Sometimes it was a messy, stinky job. “You’ll have to bathe her now.”
“Bathe her! I need a bath.” He glared at the baby, who began wailing, and then at Daphne, who felt like joining the little one. But she pointed at the infant bathtub. Ignoring his pleading expression, she sat down to feed a quiet Alex Junior a bottle.
“I can do that,” Alex offered too quickly.
“No, thanks.” Daphne shook her head at him. “Don’t be scared of one tiny baby and a bit of water.”
“It’s not water, it’s throw—up!”
“I meant, put a bit of water in the bathtub and be brave about it.”
“What if I hurt her?”
“You won’t. As you have pointed out, you always knew how to wash me very well. It’s one of your talents.”
With that, she left the room, carrying Alex Junior in her arms.
She had to. It was too easy to want to get into the shower with Alex after the babies were snug in their cribs and allow him to hold her. It was a temptation she couldn’t allow herself to endure.
But she stayed in the hall listening to Alex murmur to his daughter in the same gentle voice he’d always used with her, and her heart filled to bursting with unhappiness that they couldn’t go back to the way they’d been before.
AT THE FORMAL dinner table that night, Alex, Danita, Daphne and Alexander ate quietly. Though the afternoon had finished much more leisurely than it had begun, despite the round of feeding, changing and bathing the babies required, Alex felt he’d made headway. He was tired but proud. Daphne appeared to have softened somewhat toward him. He would gladly endure ten years of the same routine he’d suffered this afternoon if it meant his wife would want him. He knew that, Herculean as raising children might be, even more than that was required to win his wife’s heart again.
“Mr. Banning,” Sinclair said in his most formal butler tone, “Mr. Way is here to see his daughter and wife. And grandchildren,” Sinclair added, in a pompous afterthought.
The quiet, worn—out atmosphere in the room instantly charged. Daphne’s gaze darted to his. At the head of the table Alexander sat straight, braced as if enemies were approaching his stronghold.
“Howdy, neighbors and family members,” Cos said too cheerfully as he seated himself at the table without being asked. “I see I dropped in at a good time.”
He hadn’t bothered to kiss his daughter or wife, Alex noticed with a frown. Without waiting to be stand the double blow of his rejection…and losing another baby she’d already grown to love.
REED COULDN’T GET AWAY from Ann’s place fast enough.
She’d started talking about a damn honeymoon, and all he could think about was starting it right then and there. On the living—room couch. Or on the floor. Hell, he didn’t care. No way could he have made it to the bedroom if she had made a move on him.
He wanted her. Beneath him. Wrapped around him. Every which way he could get her.
Lust, that’s all it was, he told himself. He’d enjoy it, sure. He’d been without a woman for a long time. But what he was doing was for Bets, for the promise he’d made to her mother. He wasn’t going to get hung up in the marriage trap. Hell, he didn’t have an ounce of mushy sentiment in him. Any softer side he might have had, had been beaten the hell out of him years ago, if not by his ol’ man with a stick, then by his mother’s desertion. Caring about another person was not a path he wanted to travel any time soon. Other than Bets. She was a different matter.
He whipped the truck onto the county road that led to his ranch.
Temporary. He’d made the arrangement clear to sweet sugar—Annie. She’d agreed. That was just fine with him. No one in his entire life had wanted more than that from him.
He slanted Bets a glance. She’d managed to find her finger and was tugging on it vigorously. In a minute, she’d set up a wail about being hungry. He’d handle that as soon as he got home. It wouldn’t be long.
He wondered how long his marriage to sugarAnnie would last. However long, he hoped he’d have his fill of her by the time she left. And hoped to God she wouldn’t change her mind about the conjugal stuff.
“I WON’T HAVE IT, do you hear me?”
Ann had waited until Sunday to break the news of her forthcoming marriage to her parents. The delay hadn’t forestalled her father’s bellowing disapproval. She’d known it wouldn’t.
“You don’t have a choice, Daddy. I’m getting married Wednesday afternoon, and I’d like both you and Mother to be there.”
“Of course we will, dear,” her mother said, “but this all seems so—”
“No way in hell am I going to see you married to that…that man!” Her father didn’t even bother to lower his voice, in spite of the fact all the windows were open and the neighbors were probably getting an earful. “I’d sooner see you an old maid.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she murmured. “Particularly, since by most standards I already am an old maid.”
“Nonsense,” he sputtered gruffly. “You just haven’t found the right man yet. And that Drummond boy certainly isn’t—”
“I think he is.”
> Her father’s face turned bright red. If he’d had a heart condition, Ann would have been concerned, but she thought his reaction was mostly bluster and his own peculiar way of showing he loved her. When they’d bought this new house ten years ago, they’d even gone so far as to have a “guest cottage” built in the back. Ann was sure her parents had hoped she would live there after college rather than moving to her own place. She’d opted instead to use her modest inheritance from her maternal grandmother as a down payment on a house of her own.
“It all seems like such a rush, dear,” her mother said. “Couldn’t you wait a while? I’d always dreamed of you having a church wedding.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” That dream had once been Ann’s, too, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. “Judge Aldridge has agreed to perform the ceremony in his chambers at five on Wednesday. Since he’s a friend of Father’s—”
“He won’t be a friend of mine one more day if he marries you to that no good—”
“Dad! Reed Drummond is going to be my husband whether or not you show up for the wedding.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she rose to her feet. The living room of her parents’ home had a cathedral ceiling and picture windows with an ocean view. The elegant ambiance had never felt so imposing, or more intimidating. Ann refused to be cowed. “And I intend to be the best wife I can be.” Assuming Reed would give her the chance.
“You mark my words, Ann Marie,” her father warned. “If you go through with this marriage to Reed Drummond, you’ll regret it—just like you did the last time you ran off with a no—good scoundrel.”
No words could have hurt her more. She’d made one mistake, and perhaps she was making another. But she desperately wanted her father’s love and support, now more than ever. Instead, he’d thrown the past in her face.
Without wavering, she left the house. Her mother tried to stop her, but Ann shrugged her off. It was only when she reached her car and pulled the Mustang out of the driveway that she lost her composure. Within a half block, she had to pull to the curb as sobs burned in her chest and tears blurred her eyes.
She was about to marry a man whom not a single soul in Mar del Oro respected, or even trusted. Her heart told her it was the right thing to do, the only thing she could do.
Her head called her the worst kind of fool.
WHEN THE DISMISSAL bell sounded, Reed’s truck was parked at the curb in front of the school. He slid out from behind the wheel when he saw Ann coming and held the driver’s door open. He’d apparently finished the fencing job over the weekend and she hadn’t seen him since his none—too—romantic proposal. As promised, however, he’d arrived at school promptly at two—thirty for their date to get the marriage license.
Their very first date, she thought with grim wryness, trembling on the inside. And they had an audience of about five hundred curious adolescents.
“Yo! Miz Forrester’s got a boyfriend,” Jason taunted. “Bet she’s pretty hot stuff.”
A gaggle of prepubescent girls coming out of the school gate giggled at the remark.
Ann ignored them.
Reed didn’t. “Can it!” He sent the boy a fulminating look. To Ann, he said, “You’ll have to get in from the driver’s side. Bets’s chair is strapped in over there.”
She acknowledged his statement with a nod. But getting into the truck was no simple task. For reasons that now escaped her, she’d chosen to wear a suit with a straight skirt this morning. To step up into the cab, she’d have to hike her skirt so high, she’d be giving all and sundry a glimpse of her thighs—and then some, she suspected.
“Why don’t we take my car?” she suggested, hoping to avoid making an immodest scene in front of half the student body.
Reed’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering as he took in her appearance from head to toe. “You would have been better off to wear your jeans,” he muttered.
Before she could respond that since she’d never gotten a marriage license before she could hardly know the appropriate attire, he clasped her around the waist and lifted her as if she were no more bother than a sack of flour. She gasped and grabbed his forearms. They were rock hard, the muscles bunched in ribbons of steel.
For one brief moment, his thumbs skimmed the under side of her breasts, and then she was unceremoniously seated behind the wheel of the truck. But the heat stayed where his hands had been, a sensual brand that promised more to come.
Their gazes locked. Open lust narrowed the band of bronze in his eyes, and Ann’s mouth went dry. At least he was feeling some of the same volatile reaction she was experiencing. She’d hate to think the physical attraction she’d so foolishly admitted to was one—sided.
“Scoot over,” he ordered gruffly.
Moving wasn’t easy, and Ann’s paralysis wasn’t due entirely to her tight skirt. It had more to do with the heavy tension that filled the air between them.
There was no relief when they got under way, either. Three abreast, Ann was mashed between the infant seat where Bets slept contentedly and Reed’s big, lanky body. She tried to concentrate on the baby, adjusting the light flannel blanket that covered her, but she was riotously aware that she was thigh to thigh with Reed. His heat seeped through the layers of his jeans and her skirt, until she was nearly melting from the contact.
Talk—about anything—would be better than focusing on the hot waves of desire that were spiraling through her. “Have you heard from the adoptions people yet?”
“Nope.” He drove with his right hand on top of the steering wheel, his left elbow resting on the windowsilL. In profile, he was striking, a firm jaw, proud nose, and dark brown lashes so long any woman would kill for them.
“I’ve arranged for Judge Aldridge to marry us in his chambers at five o’clock on Wednesday.”
“Great.” He didn’t look all that pleased.
“If you’d rather we do something different—”
“I said it was fine, didn’t I?”
“You don’t have to snap at me.” She was anxious enough all on her own.
His hand closed even more tightly around the steering wheel, and he drew a breath that raised his chest. “Sweet sugar—Annie, if you don’t move your leg away from mine, my voice isn’t the only thing that’s going to snap.”
“I can’t. I’m mashed—” She looked down at their legs plastered side by side, and in the process noted the telltale bulge in his jeans. If she’d been nervous before, she was mortified now. And secretly thrilled. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s all right. I’ll live.” Though his voice was so choked, he sounded like he might be strangling.
She moved her rear end as far to the right as she could, practically sitting in Bets’s infant seat to get out of Reed’s way. It didn’t help her much. What she could no longer feel, she could certainly remember.
Despite her best efforts not to, she got a clear picture of what their wedding night would be like—hot, sweaty and very elemental.
For a moment it was all she could do to draw a breath.
THE COUNTY BUILDING was a jarring combination of concrete and Spanish motif. They found their way to the license bureau.
The couple waiting ahead of them looked so young, Ann could have sworn some of her seventhgrade students were older. It made her feel ancient.
“How old are you?” she asked Reed. Though she knew he’d grown up in Mar del Oro, as she had, she couldn’t remember them being in school together. Surely she would have noticed him, given her propensity for seeking out bad boys.
“Twenty—seven.” He expertly balanced Bets on his shoulder.
“I’m thirty.” That meant she’d been well ahead of him in school and explained why she hadn’t remembered him.
His lips twitched. “Fortunately, I’m partial to older women.”
She would have hit him with the nearest pillow for calling her older, but before she could find one in the austere office, the couple ahead of them had gotten their license and moved away, sucking emb
arrassingly loud kisses as they went. Ann rolled her eyes. That wasn’t her style. Never had been. Until now. And she doubted Reed would even acknowledge the importance of this moment when they were all done with the lengthy forms.
The clerk, who was barely tall enough to be seen above the counter, gushed, “I’m so pleased when couples decide to get married, however belatedly. Of course, in my day, we tied the knot before there was a baby. Better late than never, I always say.”
Ann wanted to deny her maternity. “I’m not—”
“We wanted to make sure we were right for each other,” Reed said smoothly. “Could you just give us whatever forms are necessary?”
The clerk looked at him askance, her narrow face like a hatchet set on axing weddings that shouldn’t take place. Ann felt guilty for agreeing to a marriage based on expediency instead of mutual love. But Reed needed her. His approval as Betina’s adoptive parent depended upon him being married to a woman with impeccable references. More than that, Ann sensed he needed her in order to learn about unquestioning love. It was a theorem of the heart she intended to prove.
They didn’t share much more conversation on the way back to Del Oro High than they had on the way to the county courthouse. Reed pulled up next to her Mustang, the headlights of his truck cutting through the twilight in the teachers’ parking lot.
“You want me to pick you up Wednesday here at school or at your house?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll meet you at the courthouse.”
He raised his brows.
“It’s unlucky for the groom to see his bride on the wedding day before the ceremony.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
No, she wasn’t. She needed all the luck she could get if she was going to make her marriage to Reed Drummond work. If bowing to a superstitious notion helped, she’d take every advantage she could. “I’ll meet you there,” she reiterated.
INSTEAD OF GOING directl home, Ann drove into town to Dora’s Miniature World. Dora was in the process of closing the shop when Ann arrived.
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