Wedding at King's Convenience

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Wedding at King's Convenience Page 11

by Maureen Child


  He dangled the keys before her as he would a cookie in front of a recalcitrant toddler. “But you’re too intelligent to not admit that you needed this truck, Maura.”

  She glared at him, then the keys and back again. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Clever, aren’t you? Flatter me so that to turn you down makes me seem like a complete fool.”

  Clearly pleased with himself, he grinned. “Bottom line is, Maura,” he said, “I’m going to take care of you and the baby with your approval or not. So you might as well get used to it.”

  Was it so wrong, she wondered, to allow him to take care of her? Was it wrong to wish for more? She’d wanted him to acknowledge their child. But she now wanted something she couldn’t have. She wanted love. The fantasy.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You will.” He cupped her cheek in his palm.

  Maura shivered right down to her toes. How was it that the simple touch of his skin to hers could cause so many different sensations to course through her? And how was it that he didn’t share them? That he could shut himself off from the threads of connection that bound them?

  He bent his head to hers until his mouth was just a breath away. “You might be stubborn, but you’re an intelligent woman and you’ll eventually see that I’m right about this.”

  She sighed and gave him a resigned smile. “So, I’m intelligent to agree with you and foolish to have my own opinion.”

  “Pretty much.”

  That slight curve of his mouth was a weapon, she thought. One he wielded expertly. And she was a willing victim. For heaven’s sake, the man had purchased her a lorry and tied a huge bow to it. How was she to argue or stand up against a man who surprised her, not with diamonds or fancy clothes, but with the one thing he knew she not only wanted, but needed?

  “You’re making this difficult for me.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now, do you want to take her out for a spin?”

  Those keys dangled in front of her face and this time, Maura snatched them. Who was she to fight the inevitable? Besides, if she was to admit the truth, at least to herself, she could say how grateful she was to have a vehicle she felt confident driving. “If you’re coming,” she told him with a grin, “get in and buckle up.”

  He did, managing to tear the white bow off the roof as he went and once they were settled, Maura fired the truck up and hooted with glee at the pantherlike snarl of a well-tuned engine. “Isn’t she a beauty, then?”

  “Yeah,” Jefferson said, and when she glanced at him, saw that he was staring right at her as he said, “she really is a beauty.”

  Jefferson had the marriage license. Now all he needed was the bride. But Maura was showing no signs of weakening. He’d even moved to a hotel in Westport, to give her some space. To prove that he could be as sensitive as the next guy. But did she appreciate it? Hell no. The only thing being “sensitive” had gotten him was three days of missing the woman more than he would have thought possible.

  He even missed her damn dog.

  Something had to break and it had to happen soon. He couldn’t stay in Ireland indefinitely. He had a life, work, waiting for him.

  “Which is the only reason I was willing to try Cara’s plan,” he said into the phone.

  “Cara,” his brother Justice asked. “Who is she again?”

  Jefferson gave an impatient sigh. “Maura’s sister. I told you.”

  “You’ve been rattling off names of everyone in the village for the last half hour, how’m I supposed to keep them all straight? So Cara is Maura’s sister and Maura’s the one who turned you down.”

  Jefferson scowled both at the phone and at his younger brother on the other end. “Yes, thanks for reminding me.”

  Justice laughed and he sounded as if he were in the next room, not sitting at his ranch in California. “Pardon me for enjoying this, but I seem to remember you getting a charge out of watching Maggie make me miserable not so long ago.”

  “That was different,” Jefferson said and walked to the balcony of his suite. Looking out over the river, glistening like quicksilver in the moonlight, he only half listened to the jumble of music drifting to him from a nearby pub. This harbor city, though it was nowhere near as big as L.A., was a far cry from the village of Craic and the otherworldly quiet that he’d become so used to. Realizing that didn’t put him in a better frame of mind. “That was you being miserable. This is me.”

  “Right,” Justice said, still laughing, then to someone else added, “He says he did propose the right way.” He sighed, then said to Jefferson, “Maggie doesn’t believe you.”

  “Tell her thanks for the support.” Naturally his sister-in-law would come down on Maura’s side. Female solidarity at work again. He’d about had his fill of strong women lately. Especially strong women who were currently making him insane.

  “So tell me again,” his brother said, “what was Cara’s plan?”

  Jefferson frowned out at the city. Westport was awake and partying. Lovers walked along the Carrowberg River, pausing now and then for a desperate kiss beneath old-fashioned streetlamps.

  It was a great view, he admitted silently. But it wasn’t the one he wanted. He preferred the view of the lake out Maura’s bedroom window.

  Damn it.

  Months, he thought, since he’d touched her. Except for that one kiss interrupted by the movement of his child. And that kiss haunted him, waking and sleeping. Need was a clawing, vicious beast crouched inside him, tearing at him constantly. The only way to assuage the beast was to be with her and the only way to be with her was to promise her something he couldn’t.

  He was a man caught in a web that twisted more tightly about him every time he tried to escape it.

  “You still there?” Justice demanded.

  “Yeah, I’m here.” Jefferson turned his back on the view and said, “What were we talking about? Oh, right. Cara’s plan. Well, right about now, she’s telling Maura that I’m going to fire her from the movie unless Maura agrees to marry me.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  Since he’d just thought the same thing himself, that was a statement hard to argue with. Jefferson muttered a curse and dropped onto the edge of the bed. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Justice said in his slow, thoughtful style, “you’re planning to use extortion to get the mother of your child to marry you. That about cover it?”

  Somehow, this idea sounded worse when Justice said it. “Yeah. That’s the plan.”

  “And you think this move is going to endear you to her?”

  He stood up again, feeling a swirl of something that he might have thought was panic if he’d been the kind of man to feel that particular emotion. “I never said that’s what I was going for. This isn’t about that at all.”

  “Good thing,” Justice murmured.

  Jefferson had thought that Justice, of all of his brothers, would understand because of his well-developed sense of honor and loyalty. “This is about marrying the mother of my baby. It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”

  “Sure, if you love her.”

  Exasperated now, he demanded, “Who said anything about love?”

  “I think I just did.”

  “Well, knock it off.” Jefferson paced his bedroom and when he didn’t have enough room, left to stride back and forth across the living area. “This isn’t about love, Justice, and since when did you become the touchy-feely brother?”

  A laugh barked into the phone. “I’m not. I’m only saying that marrying someone just because of a baby is a bad idea.”

  “That’s what Maura keeps saying.”

  “Smart woman.” Then to his own wife, Justice added, “Not smarter than you, honey.” Then he was back and saying, “Jeff, don’t dig yourself a hole you’re not gonna be able to climb out of. You can be a part of your kid’s life without being married to his mother.”

  Yeah, he could. Logically, Jefferson knew his brother was right. But he didn’t wan
t that. He didn’t want to be a part-time father. Be one of the weekend dads that he saw all over Los Angeles. He wanted the same kind of relationship with his own kid that Jefferson himself had had with his father. He wanted a damn family for his child. That made him a bad guy? In whose book?

  What was so wrong with wanting to be with his child’s mother?

  “That’s not how it’s going to be,” he said firmly, feeling his resolve settle in. He’d outmaneuvered studio heads, business moguls and financial wizards. He had no doubt that he could outdo one beautiful sheep farmer.

  “Your call,” Justice said, “but I’ve gotta say, I think you’re asking for trouble.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he answered ruefully.

  Maura was going to be furious. But he’d had to get her here. To talk to him. And Cara’s plan had been the only way.

  There was a knock at the door and Jefferson’s head snapped up like a wolf picking up the scent of its prey. Had to be Maura. No one else would be coming here to see him. And knowing she would show up, he’d left her name at the desk, clearing her for the elevator to his floor. “Can’t talk now,” he said softly. “She’s here.”

  “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, brother,” Justice told him. “Let me know what happens.”

  With Justice’s less-than-hopeful words ringing in his ear, Jefferson tossed his cell phone onto the coffee table and walked to the door. He hardly noticed the lush room. It was much like every other suite in every other hotel he’d ever stayed in. Crystal vases filled with colorful flowers standing on gleaming tables. Comfortable chairs drawn up to a gas-fed hearth where carefully monitored flames leaped and danced.

  He moved quickly, but even with that, three sharp, impatient knocks sounded out again before he reached the door.

  When he opened it, Maura rushed right past him, anger radiating off her in thick waves. And all he could think was, God, she’s beautiful.

  She wore dark-wash jeans and a red sweater beneath a black coat she peeled off and tossed across a chair the moment she was in the room. Her long black hair was windblown and there was hot color in her cheeks.

  “You lying, sneaky, treacherous, no good…”

  “Hello to you, too.” He closed the door and faced her, determined to play this out. He’d set his course with Cara, so he’d hold true to it until he got what he wanted.

  Maura’s complete surrender.

  “Don’t you hello me, Jefferson King,” she shot back, lifting one hand to shake her index finger at him. “How can you stand there looking so smug and proud of yourself? What kind of man is it to do what you’ve done?” Briefly, she threw both hands up in disbelief. “I don’t even have the words for it. How could you? How could you be so hard? So mean? So…”

  “Cruel?” he helped out. “Callous? Uncaring?”

  “Aye,” she snapped. “All of those and more, though ’tis clear to me you’ve not the decency to be ashamed of it.”

  She was more furious than he’d ever seen her before and that gave him pause to wonder if maybe Justice hadn’t been right. But it was too late now, he told himself. He’d set a course and he wasn’t a man to back off just because the road got a little bumpier than expected.

  “I see Cara gave you the news.”

  Maura bristled. Since the moment her sister had come to her at the farm, crying over an opportunity lost, Maura had been able to think of nothing else but coming here and facing Jefferson with what he’d done. She’d driven into the city like a madwoman, steering the lorry he’d given her down the familiar roads in a blind rage. The desk clerk had taken one look at her and had pointed out the elevators, obviously unwilling to take a chance on trying to stop her. A wise choice on his part.

  Now that she was here, the fury riding within was bubbling to the surface. Jefferson’s casual attitude wasn’t soothing her any. He looked smug and sure of himself as he watched her. So much so she felt a distinct urge to kick him. Hard. And only barely resisted. Her entire body was shaking with temper and disappointment and hurt.

  He’d shown a side of himself she’d never guessed at. How had she not seen what he was capable of before? How had she trusted this man? Given herself to him? Thought herself in love with him?

  She looked up into pale blue eyes and saw only cold distance glittering back at her. As if he were standing right in front of her, a part of him was sealed off from this confrontation. As if his mind and heart had taken a step aside, leaving only the ruthless businessman in their place. For the first time since she’d known him, Maura saw his fierceness. The steely resolve of a powerful man who would do whatever he must to ensure he got exactly what he wanted.

  Tension coiled and crackled in the air between them. She could hardly draw a breath for the iron band tightening around her chest. Her heart.

  “You’ve gone too far,” she told him, her voice hardly more than a scrape of sound.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t pretend ignorance. It insults us both,” she said and tossed her purse atop her coat. “You’ve fired Cara from your movie.”

  He shrugged and walked past her toward one of the twin couches set in the middle of the luxurious room. “She wasn’t working out.”

  She watched him go, vaguely noticing how at home he was in the lush surroundings. How this place, this life seemed to suit him and how it also seemed to mark the difference between them. But Maura pushed that thought aside and concentrated on her reason for being there.

  “That’s a lie. You told me yourself you thought Cara a fine actor. So it’s not her work you’ve a problem with. It’s me. You think to use my family to get my cooperation. That’s the mark of a small man, Jefferson King.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said, whirling back around, returning to her, coming close enough that she could see his eyes were now shining with an inner light that blazed with banked temper and conviction. “It’s the mark of a man who goes after what he wants any way he has to. I warned you I wouldn’t give up. I’m Jefferson King. And a King does what he must to get what he wants.”

  “No matter the cost?” She searched his eyes for some sign of the man she’d fallen in love with, but he wasn’t there.

  “I told you going in, Maura. You’re carrying my child. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he’s taken care of.”

  She knew, logically, that his determination to care for his child was a good thing. After all, not every man would care, would he? But Jefferson used his wealth and privilege as a club, swinging it wildly, knocking aside whoever might stand in the way of his goals and that she didn’t understand. Or forgive.

  “You’ve no right to draw Cara into this,” she said, silently congratulating herself on the calm, reasonable tone of her own voice. “It’s between us, Jefferson. No one else.”

  “You brought her into this,” he said, “when you wouldn’t see reason.”

  “And because I don’t agree with you, out come the bully tactics?”

  He winced, or she thought he had. The expression was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be sure. “You wanted this the hard way, Maura. Not me.”

  “I only want—”

  “What?” He grabbed her, big hands coming down on her shoulders, holding her in place. “What is it you really want, Maura?”

  Something he had no interest in hearing, she thought sadly, staring up into his eyes and finally, finally, seeing the man she knew and loved looking back at her. He was as torn up by all of this as she was, Maura knew that. She felt his frustration as surely as she did her own.

  And oh, what a tricky question he’d asked her. What did she really want? She wanted the fairy tale. What she wanted was to love him and be loved in return. To marry Jefferson King and make a family. She wanted it so badly, in fact, that she was ashamed to admit even to herself that she’d recently begun to actually reconsider his pitiful proposal. If she married for the sake of her child, it would be foolish, she knew. But oh, the temptation of saying yes. Of living
with him. Being with him.

  Yet even in the midst of wild dreams, she knew also that if she allowed herself to weaken on that point, she would, eventually, regret it.

  So she kept those wants locked away inside her and said only, “I want you to give Cara her job back.”

  “And you’ll do what for me in return?”

  Temper drained away to be replaced by a sorrow that went soul-deep. She lifted her hands to his, linking them, as she looked into his eyes. “Not what you’re hoping. I won’t marry you for the sake of the child, Jefferson. I can’t do that. Not to myself or to you. Sentence all three of us to half a life? What would be the good in that?”

  He dropped his forehead to hers. “You’re as thickheaded as I am,” he murmured.

  “We are the pair, aren’t we?”

  Lifting his head again, he met her gaze and said, “She has her job back.”

  “Thank you,” she said, mildly surprised that it was taken care of so easily. Over so quickly. Her body was still buzzing from a combination of anger and desire and now…she had to leave.

  But his hands on her shoulders were hard and tender and warm. Heat from his skin seeped into hers, chasing away the chill she’d been carrying for what felt like forever. She’d held strong against her own wants and needs, thinking that to be with him now would only make the parting that much harder.

  Yet she was deceiving no one. Their parting would devastate her no matter the circumstances. Would one more night together really add to the pain? Or would it be an easing of sorts?

  As if he could read her mind, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. His lips on her skin sent ripples of awareness coursing through her. His hands running up and down her spine caused every cell in her body to jump up and shout for joy.

  Her heart ached, her body burned and her mind knew it could never stand against heart and soul and body, so it quietly closed up shop and allowed Maura to only feel. For this, she didn’t want to think. Didn’t need to think.

  This, what lay between them, was good and strong and so powerful the only thing either of them needed was their instincts, drawing them together.

 

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