by Susan Gable
Jake groaned and Harley looked up at him, then followed the direction of his eyes. A uniformed cop strode in their direction. Jake slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Smile. Our secret wedding is about to be a secret no longer. I thought we'd have more time before I had to explain this hasty marriage."
"Jake, Harley." Dusty gave Harley a quick once-over. "What are you doing at the courthouse?" He arched an eyebrow at her.
"It so happens, little brother, that congratulations are in order. Harley and I just got married."
"You what?"
"You heard me." Jake squeezed her tighter, as if he knew her fear of his brother, the cop. Every time Dusty looked at her, she couldn't shake the feeling that all he saw was her record.
"No, I don't think I heard you. At least not correctly." Dusty raised his arm and peered at his wristwatch. "I have to run, I'm testifying. But I'll be by later so we can talk about this."
Jake took a step toward him. "There's nothing to talk about, and I'll be rather busy this evening, so don't bother, little brother." The emphasis on little rang loud and clear.
Dusty shot her a glare that would have withered a lesser person, but Harley had become immune to those kinds of looks. She smiled politely at him, hoping it would irritate him more than anything she could do or say. Dusty whirled on his polished black heel, then stalked to the courthouse door.
"Sorry. He's a little possessive and overprotective of me. He'll get over it." Jake took her elbow and guided her down the sidewalk in the direction of his Mustang.
"I hope so, for your sake. Maybe you should just tell him the truth."
Jake halted mid-step. "No. You were right. I hadn't thought about the implications of an arrangement like this for the baby. I don't want Dusty or Mel looking at my child like he's somehow different from their own. A child of divorce or adoption is completely understandable in this day and age, but a baby by arrangement is still a little suspect. The truth is between you, me and my lawyer, and I want it to stay that way."
"Whatever works for you." They resumed their trek toward the car. "Are you going back to work?"
He paused in the act of inserting the key into the lock. "It's my wedding day. I'm taking the afternoon off."
"Oh." Damn it, he had no right to be so handsome, and he had no right to tap into her fantasies without permission. She'd hoped for a reasonable facsimile of a wedding, and so far it had been a day from hell. But his sparkling eyes held promise, maybe her wedding night wouldn't be quite the disaster her day had been.
* * *
He'd been a fool to suggest the fancy restaurant for a late lunch. Harley had looked the part of an elegant lady in her simple short white dress, the dress he'd insisted she buy. She'd carefully watched his every move regarding silverware, and she'd eaten everything placed in front of her. Which turned out to be the biggest mistake of all.
Jake pulled the Mustang into the garage and glanced over at his wife. Wife. Damn, that word took some getting used to again. The ashen pallor of her normally pink complexion concerned him. "Here we are, Harley. Home at last."
"Thank goodness." She climbed out of the car. "I'm going to lie down."
The dogs barked from inside the kitchen and she hesitated on the top step, waiting for him. "You go first."
"How do you get in the house when I'm not here?"
"I yell at them. A lot. And I'm not up to that." She raised her hand to massage her temple.
Jake opened the door and shoved Pepper aside. "Come on, who wants a cookie?" Like the Pied Piper, he marched across the kitchen with the dogs trailing behind, tongues lolling, tails wagging a mile a minute.
Harley kicked off her sandals and trudged from the kitchen without another word.
Jake changed out of his dress clothes into a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, then busied his hands with minor tasks. He fed the dogs, mopped the kitchen floor, straightened magazines. Anything to keep his mind off the track it continually wandered—Harley Emerson, a gorgeous, tempting woman soon to carry his child.
She'd looked beautiful today, at least until her face had blanched the same color as her dress. Between the shock of seeing that judge and the rich food he'd foolishly forced on her, it was no wonder she didn't feel well.
Jake's left hand curled into a fist, and he scrubbed the bathroom counter harder. The judge had raked over Harley's scrumptious body with his beady weasel eyes and Jake had clenched his teeth to avoid any trouble. Who the hell did the man think he was, looking down his pointy nose at her? Jake suddenly understood the comment she'd made about justice being handed down.
The puzzle pieces of her life were beginning to fit together to make a very sorry picture, despite the gaping holes still left in the center of the image. What other pieces were left for him to discover? He still didn't know what had happened to her after her father's death, although he had a pretty good idea. Especially given her comments about social workers, and the way she'd looked at Austin's picture.
The doorbell chimed. Jake tossed the sponge under the vanity, rinsed his hands, then grabbed a towel from the bar near the tub. In the foyer, he peered through the window alongside the door as he dried his hands.
Melanie stood on the screened porch, balancing a large white box while the twins clung to either leg. Peter waved at him from behind Mel, then shrugged his shoulders, a universally male sign that he had no more of a clue about what was going on than Jake did.
Jake draped the towel over his shoulder, opened the door and the crew rambled into the house. "Hi, Mel, Peter." He leaned over. "Hi, squirts. Do you have a hug for your uncle Jake?"
Grace lifted her arms, and he scooped her up.
"Me too!"
"Yeah, you too, Hope." He wrapped his other arm around the second toddler and hoisted them both to his chest. Their sweet baby-shampoo scent filled him with longing. Being an uncle was great, but it wasn't the same as being a daddy. If things went according to plan, he'd soon know the difference.
Mel bussed him on the cheek and breezed by him, carrying her white box to the dining room.
"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he asked, following her.
"Cake!" Hope sang.
"Big cake," Grace added. "No happy birfday cake."
Peter brushed past him, setting the twins' diaper bag on one of the chairs. "No, it's not a birthday cake."
Jake looked to his brother-in-law for assistance, but Peter just grinned at him and spread his hands, clearly indicating that Jake was on his own. Mel carefully untied the red string around the box and peeled away the cardboard to reveal exactly what his nieces had proclaimed—a big, white, one-layer wedding cake with Jake and Harley intertwined in flowing green script across the top.
"I see Dusty didn't wait long to call you," he murmured, setting the twins down on the floor. "Go play with your blocks. Now, Melanie, before you start in on me—"
"Start in on you? Why would I do that?" His sister enfolded him in a hug, then slapped him on the shoulder. "You mean, besides the fact that you didn't invite me to your wedding?"
"Now, Mel, this snuck up on us. It was kinda impulsive, you know? Besides, after my last wedding and its results, I didn't want any fuss. And look, here you are, fussing." He smiled to mask the pain of lying to her. "I already know how Dusty would've reacted…"
"Yes, I know what Dusty would've done." She shook her head. "He's not happy about this. I, on the other hand, am very glad for you. You deserve some happiness. I saw this coming. I mean, when I looked out that day and saw her in your arms, I just knew. Harley seems like a really nice woman, and I—where is your new bride?" Mel backed away from him and swiveled her head, checking the kitchen.
"She's lying down."
Mel covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening. "Oops. We didn't interrupt anything, did we?" She sent him a piercing look, and he nearly squirmed beneath her frank scrutiny. "I mean, with the twins, we can't get anything cooking until after they've gone to sleep, so I didn't think�
�"
"Thanks, Mel, that was more than I really wanted to know."
Both she and Peter laughed. "What?" Mel said. "My big brother, the one who taught me all I needed to know about fending off a guy, is squeamish about his sex life?"
"No, I'm squeamish about your sex life." Jake struggled with the urge to wipe the knowing smirk from Peter's face. "I think I'll go get Harley. I'm sure she wouldn't want to miss the party." His sister's chuckles rang in his ears as he hurried down the hallway to Harley's room.
He rapped lightly on the door, then swung it open. "Harley?"
Her first night in his house, she'd moved the twin bed to the far side of the room. Now he saw why. She slept with her back pressed firmly against the lavender wall, a pillow clutched in her arms, guarded securely both front and back. His heart went out to her, wondering again what had happened in her life to make even her sleep so insecure.
He lowered himself to the edge of the bed. "Harley?"
Her arms tightened on the pillow and she shrank farther against the wall. Jake felt certain she'd have melted into it if possible. Her eyes flew open.
"It's just me."
Her features softened. "Jake."
He loved hearing his name in that sexy, husky voice. His libido kicked into overdrive and he fought the impulse to gather her into his arms and make his sister's fears of interrupting something a reality. "I'm sorry to wake you, but my sister and Peter are here with the kids and they brought us a wedding cake."
"They did?" She tossed the pillow aside and stretched, then sat up on the bed and smoothed her hair.
He reached out to brush the long, silky strands off her cheek, tucking them behind her ear. "Have I told you how much I love your hair?"
She blushed, and the roses in her cheeks set off her creamy skin. He skimmed his fingertips over the flushed patches. Not even his newborn nephew had softer skin. "Are you ready to act the part of a newlywed?" he murmured.
"Ready, willing and able," she whispered.
He didn't think he'd have much of a problem with it himself.
* * *
Jake closed the front door behind his sister and heaved a long, exaggerated sigh. "I thought they'd never leave." He grinned at Harley. "Now, her reaction was a damn sight more pleasant than Dusty's."
Harley shifted on the beige-and-brown sofa, tucking her long legs underneath her. "They both love you, Jake. You're lucky to have them."
He sank into the cushions at the opposite end of the couch. "Yes, I am. But they don't really need me anymore. Dusty's been married for more than two years, and he's got a son. Mel and Peter have the twins."
"And now you want someone to need you again."
"Does that sound foolish?"
"No. You're really good with children. You—you should have one of your own." She rose up on her knees and moved closer.
The aroma of the pink soap she'd left in his shower drifted through the air around him, a clean, feminine scent that made everything else recede.
The analytical part of his mind tapped him frantically on the shoulder, reminding him that he had no idea where she was in her cycle, or what their current odds of conception were.
Everything male in him rejected that observation.
He reached for Harley, pulling her into his arms. The delightful softness of her curves against him warmed his blood, made his senses sing. "I want something from you, Harley." He brushed the back of his fingers over her lips. "Do you know what it is?"
The vivid green of her eyes darkened as she shook her head.
"I want to make love to you. Tonight it's just you and me, with no thought about tomorrow or the future or anything else." He dipped his head and skimmed her mouth with his, a light, teasing kiss. "Can we do that?"
She nodded this time, and the desire in her eyes pushed his pulse rate to a higher level.
"I want to do this right for you. Wait here one second." He eased her off his lap, strode to the bedroom, then returned with the pink box he'd stashed under his bed several days earlier.
"Take this. And give me ten minutes." He set the gift on the couch next to her and knelt on the floor. He kissed her again, more urgently, reveling in the way her breathing hitched as he pulled away. "One more thing, sweetheart." He ran his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. "Put this back up for me."
"You like it better up?"
"No. I just like the idea of taking it down." He framed her face with his hands and brushed his lips over hers one more time. "Trust me."
He rose to his feet. "Ten minutes. My room."
Harley picked up the box and clutched it to her chest, contemplating his physique as he walked across the living room in the direction of the hall. His broad shoulders and narrow waist were perfectly formed. The hour he spent in the gym every morning clearly paid off.
She carried his gift to her room, closing the door gently behind her. A shiver of delight and anticipation ran through her as she thought about what would happen ten minutes from now…
Her insides melted to the consistency of warm motor oil.
She lifted the top of the box to expose a delicate glass bottle lying on tissue paper. Perfume. She hoped that wasn't his way of saying she smelled bad. She drew the stopper from the bottle and sniffed. Exotic flowers, with an oriental flavor. The label read Endless Possibilities. Once upon a time, long ago, she'd believed in endless possibilities. She dabbed the end of the stopper on her wrists and behind both ears.
Setting the bottle on her dresser, she returned her attention to the box, moving aside the layers of tissue paper. She caressed the smooth fabric—white satin—she found there. Unfolding the garment, she held it in front of her. A long, flowing nightgown with thin spaghetti straps.
A rueful smile tugged at her lips. He'd given her a virginal nightgown, when the truth was she'd lost that at a too-early age. To the son of a new set of foster parents. A boy she'd believed when he'd spoken words of love.
Harley shut her eyes for a few seconds. No point in dwelling on the past—but those lessons were something she needed to keep in mind. Jake and his nice-guy compassion had a way of getting deep into her head—and her heart. This was going to be about sex, about making a baby in a warm bed as opposed to a cold doctor's office. That she could handle. She'd had a few lovers after the boy who'd taken her virginity, but she'd never again confused sex with making love.
She quickly peeled off her clothes, then slipped the gown over her head, pausing to study her reflection. He'd judged the size perfectly. A long slit raced up the length of her right thigh, and the V neck took a daring plunge. She retrieved the perfume to apply one more dab just between her breasts.
She'd never felt sexier in her life.
She worked bobby pins into her hair, pinning it up. If that was how he wanted it, that was what he'd get.
She felt a touch of apprehension as she glided down the hallway toward his room, her bare feet padding softly on the polished wooden floor. Would she meet his expectations? She tapped on his door.
"Come in."
Hand trembling, she turned the knob—and entered a true fantasy. Candles lit the room, casting flickering shadows across the king-size bed he'd already turned down. A pair of long-stemmed glasses and a bottle of champagne waited on the night table near the door. Soft instrumental music drifted from the stereo on his dresser.
Jake had her seduction planned to a "t."
And she was flattered beyond belief.
The tightness in her chest had nothing to do with the physical event about to take place and everything to do with the man himself. No one had ever been as thoughtful, as considerate… The virginal nightgown was appropriate, after all, because she knew that for the first time in her life a man would truly make love to her.
And that scared the hell out of her. All the cynical lessons she'd learned in the past were forgotten. Foolish, crazy, stupid beyond belief—all those words applied to a woman who fell in love with a man who'd already set a term limit on their
relationship, but Harley didn't care. Closing her eyes, she begged the fates for one tiny favor … and hoped that for once in her life, they'd listen. Please, please, let it take me months to get pregnant. The longer she postponed that, the longer she postponed the inevitable—leaving this home, and this man.
"You look beautiful."
She opened her eyes to discover he held a half-filled glass in her direction. "Thank you."
The tenor sax on the CD wove a sultry spell in the background as they sipped the champagne. Anxiety prickled along the nape of her neck. As if he knew how she felt, Jake took her glass and placed it back on the night table, along with his own. "May I have this dance?"
With a smile, she nodded. He pulled her tight against him, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She clasped her hands behind his neck and swayed with him to the seductive rhythm. Nuzzling his throat, she inhaled his spicy aftershave. Smooth skin greeted her questing lips as they strayed across his jawline.
Jake and Harley lost themselves in the music, allowing their hands and mouths to explore each other with tantalizing slowness. Harley slipped her fingers inside his black silk robe, caressing the soft hair on his chest. His low hum of approval encouraged her, and she slid her hand lower. "Why, Jake. You've got nothing on underneath this robe."
He clamped his teeth gently on her earlobe when she brushed his arousal. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Not at all."
He stroked her breast through the flimsy material of the gown. Harley gasped and arched her back, pressing forward.
Exquisite. The woman was absolutely exquisite, and he'd never get enough of her. Her breast filled his hand perfectly. With the other hand, Jake reached around behind her and plucked a pin from her hair. "Look at me, Harley."
