Just the Husband She Chose

by Karen Rose Smith

  “No,” Hunter said quickly, running his hand over the top of the chest. Then he looked up at his father. “We’ll put it in our bedroom at the foot of the bed.”

  Eve heard the emotion in Hunter’s voice but wasn’t sure anyone else could. When he handed her the small key, she unlocked the chest and the smell of cedar wafted out. Looking inside, she saw a large envelope lying on the bottom of the chest. It had her name and Hunter’s written on it.

  Taking it out, she opened the envelope and read the wedding card. It brought tears to her eyes. She passed it to Hunter and he read it, too. “Thank you,” she told the Morgans for both of them.

  “You’re most welcome,” Martha said. “We can keep the chest here until you’re ready for it. Just say the word.”

  As Hunter drove back to the penthouse that evening, he switched on the CD player and didn’t talk. Eve wondered about the thoughts that might be going through his head. She certainly had a parade of them. She should be frozen with fear at all the changes to her life that were happening so fast, but she wasn’t.

  After they parked, rode the elevator to the penthouse and went inside, she decided to try to talk to Hunter about his family. “I think Larry’s a very insecure man.”

  Hunter gave her a quick glance as he shrugged off his blazer. “I’ve never understood him and I never will.”

  Folding his jacket over his arm, he changed the topic. “We have a big day tomorrow. I guess we ought to turn in. If you do have a superstition about not seeing the groom before the wedding, you don’t have to go along to the settlement tomorrow morning. I can take care of it myself.”

  She didn’t believe in superstitions, but that wasn’t what had gotten her attention. Hunter’s tone had. “Don’t you need me to sign something?”

  “No. The paperwork will be in my name.”

  His announcement caught her off guard, but then the meaning sank in. “You mean the house will be yours.”

  “Yes.”

  Suddenly she remembered something Hunter had said. Your inheritance is your money. “Will we be keeping our finances separate?”

  His gaze didn’t leave hers. “I thought that would be best. As you said, if for some reason this doesn’t work out, we’d have a tangled mess otherwise.”

  A tangled mess. Not work out.

  Suddenly she saw something so clear in Hunter’s gaze that she didn’t know how she’d missed it before. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust that she’d go through with the wedding. He didn’t trust that she’d stay if she did. And if he didn’t trust her, she doubted if any of the feelings he once had for her remained.

  Then why was he marrying her? Simply for the family he wanted? If he didn’t trust her, how could a bond develop between them? Could a marriage built on desire and convenience last?

  “Whatever you think is best,” she murmured. “Maybe I will stay here tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m going into the office for a while before the settlement. I’ll take my tux along and get ready there.”

  She wished Hunter would tell her what he was really thinking and feeling. She wished she knew what he really thought of her. “Then I guess I won’t see you until I walk down the aisle.”

  Silent for a few moments, he finally said, “That’s right. If you need me, just dial my pager number. What time would you like a limo to stop here to pick you up and take you to the church?”

  Apparently he’d thought of everything. “Around five-thirty?” she asked. “I’ll be getting dressed at the church. That should give me enough time.”

  “All right. I’ll see you at the altar at seven.”

  He was gazing at her with that intense look of his, and she wished he’d come closer. She wished he’d take her in his arms. But he didn’t.

  Turning away from him, she murmured good-night and went down the hall to her room. Tears pricked in her eyes, but she blinked them away. This marriage had been her doing, and all she could do was hope the best would come of it.

  As the organ processional played and Eve walked down the aisle of the church, she took Hunter’s breath away. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. But he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t tell her a lot of things. Five years ago he’d opened himself up to her. He’d told her how beautiful she was. He’d told her what a difference she could make to his life.

  And she’d pulled away. She’d retreated from him then, and she could leave again after they married. One day she could wake up and decide this sudden marriage was the last thing on earth she wanted. She could decide that Denver was the last place she wanted to live. She could decide that their marriage had been a mistake.

  There was only one way she might stay. If she got pregnant, they could raise their child together and it would be a bond to make them both hold fast. In a sense, she was an orphan now and she needed someplace to belong. The sooner she became pregnant, the sooner he’d feel as if they had a chance.

  The organ music swelled as Eve came forward. Hunter crossed to the center of the aisle, holding his arm out to her. She took it and they both faced the minister and the altar. As the last rays of daylight beamed through the stained glass windows, they listened to the minister, said their vows and exchanged gold wedding bands.

  At the end of the ceremony when the minister said, “You may now kiss your bride,” Hunter lifted her veil, took her in his arms and kissed Eve, intending to keep it light…short…sweet. But passion glanced through him like lightning. Eve responded as if it was the most important kiss of her life, and suddenly applause broke out among the guests.

  Hunter lifted his head, and when she looked at him, he couldn’t believe how desperately he wanted her. But he couldn’t let her see that. His passion had scared her once before; so had his certainty in everything he’d wanted. They were going to take this slowly, and this time he’d be prepared if she said goodbye.

  In the nave of the church, Hunter stopped with Eve and wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked. But instead, he said, “We forgot something.”

  “What?”

  “A photographer. I never even gave it a thought.”

  She looked relieved. “Your mom and dad have a camera, and so does Jolene. They’ve been taking pictures. We’ll have those.”

  Then the guests began entering the nave of the church, congratulating them.

  The reception at the five-star hotel Hunter had chosen went without a hitch. Eve was gracious and friendly to Hunter’s friends, and the evening passed quickly with glasses of champagne, an excellent meal, topped with wedding cake and ice cream. At the end of the evening, both John and Martha hugged Eve and Hunter and told them they’d see them when they returned from Savannah. Then Hunter escorted Eve to the elevator and it sped them to the honeymoon suite.

  Hunter let Eve precede him through the door.

  This morning, Eve had finished packing her bags for tonight and for their trip to Savannah. The limo driver had taken care of her luggage, telling her he’d make sure it was in the honeymoon suite for tonight. The closet door was open now and she saw her garment bag hanging beside Hunter’s. As her gaze passed over the sitting area with its love seat, television, table and chairs, and up the two steps to the raised area where a king-size bed was covered in a red-and-gold spread, she saw her suitcase sitting beside Hunter’s on the luggage rack.

  Not sure what to do next, she watched Hunter as he slipped off the jacket to his tux and hung it in the closet, then uncinched his cummerbund. After he tossed the satin band over the arm of the chair, he came to stand before her. “We have an early flight tomorrow. We should probably turn in.”

  Turn in. Sleep with her husband. Come together in the union that was made for a wedding night.

  “All right.” When her fingers went to her veil to unfasten the combs, one stuck.

  Hunter untangled it for her and placed the veil on the chair with his cummerbund. “Do you need help with your gown?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Her reply would set
the mood. Her reply would tell him whether or not she wanted him to make love to her. “Yes, I do. Can you unfasten the buttons in the back?”

  The blue of his eyes was as deep as the ocean and just as mysterious.

  She wished she could understand what she saw there. Was there more than desire?

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  After she did, she felt his fingers first on the top button and then the next. His skin was fire as it brushed hers, leaving a scalding heat. She trembled. She felt him undo a third button and a fourth. But then he stepped closer and when his lips brushed the back of her neck, her breath caught. He kissed her nape again and she couldn’t wait for more of his kisses, for his hands to touch her skin more thoroughly.

  When he finished unbuttoning the dress, she let it fall from her arms and pushed it down with her slip. The garments formed a satin puddle on the floor. She turned to Hunter and he gathered her to him, sealing his lips to hers, kissing her with a ferocity she hadn’t expected. Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  He laid her down, then his fingers went to the studs on his shirt. She sat up and helped him, as eager for him to be rid of his clothes as he was. Her hands brushed his chest and he sucked in a breath. Their gazes met. She thought she saw need there, and she hoped it was more than physical.

  The studs gone, Hunter made quick work of his shirt and trousers and then his briefs. She’d taken off her shoes and panty hose but was still wearing a white lace bra and the filmiest of panties.

  Hunter sat down beside her and stroked her hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her gaze passed over his well-muscled body and his arousal. “You are, too.”

  She wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid, that she could be his equal this time by expressing her passion without hesitation, without doubts. She wasn’t any more experienced than their first time—she’d never been with a man other than Hunter—but she didn’t know if he was ready to hear that, any more than she was ready to say it. The wrong word, the wrong move could tip the delicate alliance they’d formed.

  “I don’t want to rush you, Eve. If you’re not ready for this—”

  “I want to be a real wife, Hunter. I’m ready.”

  When he bent to her, he kissed her again with a possessiveness that created a fierce yearning inside her. She passed her hands down his back, marveling at his physical prowess, appreciating the feel of him in her arms. She remembered this. She’d longed for it so often in her dreams…and she suddenly knew why. She didn’t just still have feelings for Hunter Coleburn.

  She still loved him.

  The realization was glaringly bright, glaringly terrifying. What if he had no feelings for her? What if he decided he couldn’t forgive her doubts of five years ago? What if he always kept himself removed?

  But he wasn’t removed now. His tongue told her he desired her.

  Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her again and reached for the fastening on her bra and unclasped it. Then his gaze left hers, drifting to her breasts…her waist. He hooked his thumbs in her panties and pulled them off. Raining kisses on her throat and the skin above her breasts, he stroked her thighs until she parted her legs. She moaned when he touched her. Soft sighs escaped her lips as he flicked his tongue over one of her nipples and passed his hand between her legs again. When he came down beside her, she touched his chest and slid her hand down his stomach.

  He groaned and then said, “Eve, I can’t take much of that if you want to prolong this.”

  “We don’t have to prolong it,” she responded almost shyly.

  His gaze held hers. “I want to make this pleasurable for you.”

  “It will be.” She wished she felt free to touch him more intimately.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “That I want to please you.”

  He rose above her then. “You are pleasing me, Eve. I want you.”

  “I want you, too,” she whispered.

  The desire in his eyes became more mesmerizing. She couldn’t take her gaze from his, not as he caressed her breasts until she moaned, not as he passed his hand down her stomach and touched the center of her desire.

  “You are ready,” he rasped.

  With a slow, smooth thrust, he entered her.

  They were one, and as he sank deeper and withdrew, then sank in again, she caught his rhythm and moved with him. “Oh, Hunter,” she gasped. “You feel so wonderful.”

  Holding on to him tightly, she started the steep ascent to a wondrous mountaintop she’d climbed only once before. She reached the top quickly and teetered on the edge, raking her nails down Hunter’s back. When she arched up against him, their movements seemed to explode into ripple after ripple of intense pleasure. His mouth came down on hers as she wrapped her legs around him, seeking to prolong everything, wanting to give Hunter such deep satisfaction he’d never want to separate from her. His thrusts were hard and she contracted around him, even as the giant erotic wave swept over her. Tearing his mouth from hers, he drove into her again, saying her name with such soul-stirring depth, tears came to her eyes. His life force surged into her, and she held him as he shuddered again and again.

  Could she give her heart to him knowing she might lose it? Knowing he might break it? Knowing he wanted a family maybe more than he wanted her?

  What would he say when she told him that they’d lost a child already?

  Tomorrow would be soon enough to find the answers.

  Tonight, she just wanted to hold on to him and believe that he wanted to hold on to her.

  Chapter Five

  Ida Clark, the housekeeper who had taken care of Emory Ruskin’s domestic concerns for the past ten years, opened the door to Eve’s childhood home before she could use her key. Gathering Eve into a tight hug, she finally pushed away to look at her. “Did you really get married while you were gone?”

  Eve had called Ida to tell her of her marriage and to prepare her for the fact that they’d be packing up the house when she and Hunter came to Savannah. “Yes, I did.” She stepped back next to Hunter. “Do you remember Mr. Coleburn?”

  “Sure do,” Ida drawled. “He likes his eggs over-easy and his coffee black.”

  Hunter laughed and extended his hand to her. “You have a good memory.”

  “That’s my job,” Ida returned. Then as she looked at Eve, she amended, “At least that was my job. The Garrisons said I can start with them whenever you’re finished here.”

  “Will you be happy with them?” Eve asked, concerned.

  “I’m sure I will. They’re a nice couple. They have loads of grandchildren who visit them often, so that will keep me busy. But I…” She hesitated. “I’m going to miss you, as well as your father.”

  Eve’s throat tightened and she fought back tears. “I’ll miss you, too.” Composing herself, she said, “We’re going to put our things up in my room. I’m expecting Douglas Creighton for dinner this evening.”

  Ida nodded. “Mr. Creighton phoned this morning and said he’d be here at eight.” As they moved across the foyer, the housekeeper said, “When you’re ready to start packing just say the word. Joe’s home from college and he can help us.”

  Joe was Ida’s son and had often done odd jobs for Eve’s father. “Thank you, Ida. Hunter and I will probably decide what furniture we want to have shipped to Denver, but I’ll wait till morning to start packing up.”

  A few minutes later, Eve and Hunter climbed the wide staircase to the second floor. Eve wished she could feel some of the closeness to Hunter that she’d felt last night. For those few moments when they’d made love so passionately, it had seemed as if their hearts and souls had touched. When the alarm had gone off this morning and she’d awakened tucked close to Hunter’s side, she’d hoped the closeness would spill over into the rest of their marriage. But after a kiss that Eve knew could have developed into a lot more, Hunter had broken away, slid out of bed and taken a shower.

  She wi
shed she knew what he was thinking. She wished she knew if last night had affected him as much as it had affected her. But he was guarding himself too carefully for her to see or sense anything.

  Her climb up the staircase reminded her of all those times as a child she’d run up or down, happy or sad, with friends or alone, on her way to bed, or eager to face a new day. She’d spent her entire life under the roof of this twelve-room house, and she was going to miss it dearly. It wasn’t just the house itself, of course. There were so many memories attached to every piece of furniture, every rug, every smell, every picture hanging on the walls. Houses took on personas of their own and this one had always wrapped its arms around her, just as Ida had.

  When they entered Eve’s room, Hunter’s gaze passed over the white canopy bed with its cover of blue-and-white stripes, pink roses and eyelet, as well as the rose carpeting, the pale blue velvet chaise and the bookshelves with their well-read volumes and childhood mementos.

  He said, “It’s just as I remembered it.”

  This is where they’d made love the first time. Her father had had an evening appointment and Ida had had the night off. She and Hunter had planned to go out to dinner and the theater. But in the house alone, their desire had gotten the best of them both.

  After Hunter set down their two suitcases, he went to the doorway. “I’ll get the garment bags. They’re still on the porch.”

  Eve followed him to the top of the stairway and then, instead of going back to her own room, she crossed to the end of the hall and opened the door into her father’s.

  Nothing had been touched since the day Emory Ruskin had died. She hadn’t been able to make herself put his robe in the closet or move his black wing-tipped shoes from the side of the bed. But now she knew she’d have no choice. Before she realized it, she was seated in his burgundy-leather wing chair, lifting his robe to her nose. It smelled like him and his aftershave. He’d worn that robe when he’d read her stories. He’d worn that robe on Christmas Eve when he’d watched her set out cookies and milk for Santa. He’d worn that robe after her mother died when he’d held her and they’d both cried.