Baby Love

  Maggie gaped at the wedding set he slipped on her finger. The intertwined diamonds looked as big as a nickel in her blurred vision. When he released her hand, her arm fell to her side as though an anchor were attached.

  He slipped his arm back around her waist. Was it only her imagination, or did he touch her differently now? Maggie felt certain the tips of his fingers nestled more intimately beneath her breast.

  The judge smiled and snapped the book closed. The sound reminded Maggie of a lock tumbling. “Rafe, you may now kiss your bride.”

  Rafe framed her face with his hands and staked gentle claim to her mouth. Her mind went blank. She couldn’t feel her lips and swayed when he let go.

  “I wish you both all the best,” the judge said.

  “Thanks, Harry.” Keeping his left arm locked around her, Rafe leaned forward to shake hands with the judge. “And you can stop worrying. I’ll make her happy or die trying.”

  Maggie blinked. Rafe sounded almost defensive. She focused on the judge, who was eyeing her with concern. Ryan wore the same worried expression. Was her reluctance to marry Rafe so obvious?

  Ryan tossed the ring boxes onto the foot of the bed. “Move aside, brother. It’s my turn now to kiss the bride. Maybe I’ll get a more enthusiastic response.”

  Rafe gave a halfhearted laugh and drew his arm from around her, whereupon Ryan grasped her by the shoulders. She found herself looking up into gray-blue eyes very like her husband’s. Uncertain what to expect, she tensed as Ryan bent his head, his lips barely grazing hers. Then he whispered in her ear. “He’s a big old teddy bear. Don’t look so worried.”

  As Ryan released her and stepped away, she glanced up at her groom’s dark face. His jaw muscle twitched, and she saw an unmistakable glitter in his eyes that reminded her of light glancing off ice chips. A teddy bear?

  “Congratulations, Maggie! Wow, you’re married. I can’t believe it!” Heidi gave Maggie a quick hug. Then she turned to Rafe. He grinned and drew her close. “Does this mean you’re my brother?” Heidi asked.

  Ryan reached out to tousle the ten-year-old’s hair. “It means you’ve got two brothers, pillbox. I’ve finally got a kid sister to torment.” He tweaked the end of Heidi’s nose. “What do you think about that?”

  Heidi’s eyes sparkled with gleeful anticipation as she glanced from Ryan to Rafe. Dressed in a brand-new pink top and a pair of pricey designer jeans, she looked glowingly happy, and the undiluted adoration in her gaze hinted that she had already developed a crush on Maggie’s new husband and her brother-in-law. “Are you gonna torment me, too, Rafe?”

  Rafe chuckled. “Probably. It’s an irresistible pastime for older brothers. Only until you turn sixteen, though. Then we’ll switch gears and make life miserable for all your boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends? Yuck!”

  The child’s undisguised disgust at the thought made everyone in the room laugh. As the sound trailed away, Maggie felt the attention center on her.

  She pasted on a smile and said, “Well, thank goodness that’s done.”

  She winced even as she spoke, for she sounded like someone who’d just undergone surgery without anesthetic.

  “Yeah,” Rafe said dryly. “Thank goodness.”

  “Not quite,” the judge said. “There are the papers yet to sign.” He motioned at the dresser.

  Rafe led Maggie to the opposite side of the room. Her hand shook as she signed her name to the documents, and she was acutely aware that her new husband kept his arm around her as he took the pen and bent to scrawl his own signature. As he straightened, he said, “Feel as if you just signed your life away, Mrs. Kendrick?”

  How she felt—about anything—didn’t really matter. In that moment, it seemed to her that it never had. “Don’t we all when we get married? People don’t usually think of it as a temporary thing, after all.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” He grasped her lightly by the shoulders and steered her toward the bed. “You’ve been up long enough. Back to prison.”

  That was how she felt as she slipped between the crisp sheets, that he was returning her to a cage. He plumped the pillows. His knuckles grazed the flannel over her breasts as he smoothed the top fold of the sheet. Her nipples puckered into hard points. He felt the tips thrusting against his hands and glanced up. For several heartbeats, they stared at each other. Then he drew away, the backs of his fingers brushing against her even in retreat. She knew the touch was unintentional, but it was no less disturbing, for all of that.

  “Well!” Becca said, wiping beneath her eyes and snuffling. “This wedding was as beautiful as any I’ve ever seen, absolutely beautiful.”

  Maggie glanced down at her flannel nightgown. Beautiful? Her groom was dressed in jeans and a chambray work shirt. As a little girl, she’d imagined getting married someday in a lacy white wedding gown with a long train and veil. She’d abandoned that dream years ago, but she still felt sad. Real life never turned out to be anything like you imagined it might be when you were a child, not even if you married the modern-day equivalent of a handsome prince.

  The rings winked on her finger as she toyed with the sheet and absently listened to Heidi’s chortling. She wondered if Rafe had selected the rings or simply barked another order into the phone, leaving the jeweler to choose for him. As big as the diamonds were, the intertwining design was delicate and feminine.

  “I hope you like them,” he told her in a voice as scratchy as sandpaper.

  Maggie jerked her head up to find him still standing over her. Angling her thumb across her palm, she touched the underside of the bands that felt so strange on her finger. “They’re beautiful. How did you know my size?”

  “I guessed. If you don’t like my taste, we can exchange them.” His mouth quirked at one corner, and he shrugged. “The design reminds me of you, somehow. Delicate but radiant.”

  So he had chosen the setting himself. Maggie was glad. Somehow it made the rings mean more to her, knowing that. “I like them just fine.” They were lovelier than anything she might have chosen herself and had probably cost the earth. Unfortunately, her pleasure in them was ruined. This didn’t feel like a real marriage to her. It was more a convenient arrangement. And if it happened that they split up later, she’d have to pay for the diamonds. She felt as if she were getting in deeper with every breath she drew. “Thank you.”

  Becca lifted Jaimie from the bassinet and motioned to Ryan. He began piling baby paraphernalia inside the basket under Becca’s direction.

  “What are they doing?” Maggie asked Rafe.

  “Becca’s taking Jaimie and Heidi to Ryan’s place for the night so we can be alone. What with you being sick, we’ll postpone the cake, champagne, and gift opening until next week. I was afraid too much hoopla today might tire you.”

  Her attention riveted to Jaimie, Maggie stifled her objections. This was their wedding night. Rafe had been patient about having Jaimie around, never once complaining or growing cross, not even when the baby cried. As her husband, he did have a right to expect at least one night alone with her.

  With a worried gaze, she watched Becca exit the room with Jaimie in her arms and Heidi on her heels.

  Ryan trailed behind them, the bassinet clutched waist-high. “Don’t worry about any of the chores,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ve got the men taking care of the cattle, and I’ll drive back over to feed the horses.”

  The judge snapped his briefcase closed, flashed Maggie a farewell smile, and joined in the sudden exodus. “I’ll be back in a while,” Rafe told her. “I need to show Harry out and take care of a few things.”

  She was in no great hurry. When the door closed behind him, she relaxed against the pillows and closed her eyes, unable to forget how he had accidentally grazed the front of her gown with his knuckles. Her nerve endings felt raw, every brush of the flannel against her breasts making her skin burn.

  A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she turned the rings on her finger. She’d done it. They were
married. She had to remind herself that her sister and son were safe and try not to think of anything else.

  She listened to the loud ticking of the case clock across the room, its pendulum marking off the seconds. Their wedding night. Oh, God. But she could think of no way around it. She supposed she could tell Rafe she still felt tender from giving birth, but she’d always been a lousy liar. Better to just take her medicine than to risk making him angry. Getting through tonight would be enough of an ordeal without that.

  Nearly twenty minutes passed before he pushed open the door. He held a silver tray balanced in his hands. Tucked under one arm, he carried two silver candleholders bearing long tapers. “Hi,” he said, flashing a grin as he came toward her. “I decided we should celebrate by sipping fine wine from my grandmother’s Waterford.”

  Maggie gazed at the delicate, long-stemmed goblets. “They’re lovely.”

  “She collected it for years. My grandmother gave it to my mother on her wedding day, and she, in turn, gave it to Susan on hers. The entire set will be yours now.”

  A lump of resentment rose in Maggie’s throat. She was living in Susan’s house, had possibly been sleeping in her bed, and now she had married the woman’s husband and was inheriting her wedding gifts. Secondhand Maggie. She felt like an interloper.

  He shoved the lamp and telephone aside with his forearm to make room on the beside table. Becca had gone to a lot of trouble, laying out finger foods on lacy paper doilies: cheeses, slivers of dill pickle, green and black olives, sliced ham and beef, and dainty crackers. He’d also brought along the bottle of wine.

  “For refills,” he explained when he saw her looking at it. “I thought—” He straightened and pushed at his hair, which had fallen over his forehead in loose, glistening black waves. He looked nervous and sort of harried, as if he’d been rushing around and was only just now getting a chance to catch his breath. As he uncorked the bottle and poured them each some wine with an economy of motion, he said, “I know you’re a little nervous. I thought this might help.”

  “Can I have the whole bottle?”

  The words no sooner popped out than Maggie wanted to kick herself. But instead of seeming perturbed, Rafe only laughed. Still smiling, he sat down and settled a thoughtful gaze on her. Two seconds in, and Maggie started to feel as if those gray-blue eyes were turning her skin inside out. She plucked tensely at the dusty-rose fuzz of the blanket.

  “You really are nervous,” he finally said, his voice low and silky. “I apologize for that. I’ve been so busy making arrangements, I put you on hold and ignored you.”

  “You’ve taken care of the two people who matter most to me. I don’t mind being put on hold. Really.”

  “I’ll just bet you don’t,” he said, his tone laced with gentle amusement. “And that’s my fault. I should have been trying to make you feel more at ease about this.”

  “You’ve tried.” Maggie lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sorry I’m—it’s just—kind of sudden. I mean, in ways I feel as if I’ve known you forever. I hate being in bed, so every minute I’ve been sick has seemed years long. But then I think—did I even know you a week ago? I’m—”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He slipped his hand to her neck, his fingertips making those heart-stopping circles on her skin again, as he’d done when he kissed her in the Cessna. “I understand. We’ll take it nice and slow.”

  Slow? She preferred the quick and painless approach. She was relieved beyond measure when he drew his hand away to reach for the wineglasses. Her fingers quivered as she grasped the cool stem of the goblet he handed to her. He extended his toward her. “To us and many happy years together.”

  When Maggie went to clink her glass against his, her goblet beat a tinkling tattoo, a telltale sign of how badly she was shaking. Dismayed, she jerked away to stop the noise and slopped wine over the front of her gown. “Oh, dear!”

  Rafe grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the flannel, each rub of the linen over her breast making her nerves leap. She instinctively grabbed for his wrist, spilling still more wine in the process. Scalding tears gathered behind her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m making a complete mess of this. I’m sorry.”

  She had to stop this. Now. What if she blew this so badly that Rafe became disgusted and decided all deals were off? Until they consummated this marriage, he could get it annulled. He’d made it clear from the start that he expected them both to make this a real marriage in every way. She needed him. Without his protection, she’d have no way to keep her son and Heidi safe.

  He grabbed another napkin to help her mop up. She decided to set aside her wine before she spilled the entire glass. She groped to find a clear spot on the tray. The instant she turned it loose, the goblet toppled and struck the wine bottle. Horrified, Maggie stared at the shattered remains.

  “Oh, no! Susan’s crystal!”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry about it?” The very way he had said the name “Waterford” told her how special the crystal was. “I’m so sorry. I know how Susan must have treasured it. I didn’t mean to break it.”

  He spared a long glance at the shattered glass, then went back to wiping at her gown. “It’s not that big a deal, honestly.”

  “And I’ve ruined the food!”

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  He suddenly froze, his gaze locked on the outline of her erect nipple thrusting so pointedly against the crimson-soaked cloth. For an awful moment, Maggie stared down at it as well. Then she clamped her hand over her breast to hide the evidence.

  When she glanced back up, Rafe was gazing out the window, a muscle ticking along his jaw. There was no laughter or tender understanding in his eyes now. He looked furious enough to chew through nails.

  He pushed to his feet so suddenly that it startled her.

  “I didn’t mean to ruin the celebration,” she hurried to explain. “It was all an accident. Honestly, it was. I’m sorry about the glass.”

  He cursed under his breath and set his wine goblet back on the tray with a loud click. With his smoldering gaze riveted to her, Maggie’s heart was already doing tumbles. Memories of Lonnie in a temper flashed through her mind. When Rafe made a sudden move with his hand, she instinctively flinched and threw up her arm.

  He froze with his splayed fingers near his temple. When she realized he’d only meant to run his fingers through his hair, as he often did, she felt like a fool.

  A pained expression crossed his dark face, and his lips drew back in a grimace. “I, um…I just remembered something I need to go do.”

  With that, he turned and strode from the room. The door closed behind him with a loud bang. Maggie just sat there, staring at the panel of wood, feeling sick. She should write a book, she thought a little hysterically. How to Get Rid of Your Bridegroom in Five Easy Steps.

  Oh, God…oh, God. This wasn’t funny. He was furious with her, and she couldn’t blame him. He’d been so kind and patient with her. She had humiliated him during the ceremony. Now, to top it off, she’d broken his dead wife’s Waterford and spoiled the little party he planned. Even the candles were splashed with wine.

  They’d made a deal, and she had welshed on it. If he came back and told her to take her sister and baby and get out of his house, it would be no more than she deserved.

  Rafe sank his boot into the hay, putting so much force behind the thrust that the bale slid across the feed-room floor. Pain shot to his knee. He swore and hobbled in a circle. “Son of a bitch!” Had he broken his toe? “God damn!”

  This would teach him not pitch temper tantrums, he thought as he gimped toward the bale where it had come to rest against the unfinished wall. He sank gratefully onto the hay, braced one elbow on his knee, and reached to massage the throbbing digit through the leather. When the ache finally abated, he swore again and covered his face with his hands.

  I just remembered something I need to go do. Every time he recalled saying that to Maggie,
he got a sick urge to laugh. Big problem. It was a little difficult to go outside and kick himself in the ass. But, oh, God, how he wanted to. Stupid. He’d pulled some good ones in his time, but this took the prize. Where in the hell had his head been the last few days?

  She was scared to death, and he’d bulldozed her into marrying him, paying her barely a second’s notice since bringing her here, except to force pills or water down her. A person could suffer far more ills than just the physical, and he’d completely ignored that fact, so bent on getting what he wanted that he hadn’t given a good God damn about her feelings.

  Well, it was done. All legal and binding. He felt as though he’d been running a race for days, with a man-eating monster nipping at his heels, only to be caught just as he staggered into the safety zone. That look in her eyes. Jesus. He had prepared the food tray and taken it to the bedroom, intent on pulling off the smoothest seduction in history. Getting her a little looped on the wine, then gently kissing her until she forgot to keep a death grip on that damned nightgown that covered every sweet inch of her. Oh, yeah. Rafe Kendrick, the great lover, his chosen victim so terrified she couldn’t hang onto a glass. But, oh, hey. No problem. She had all the usual body parts. He could just tease and kiss his way past her reservations, until she quivered in the throes of orgasm. Home free.

  He had been ashamed of himself a few times in his life, but never like this. Just be careful that you don’t become a bastard yourself, Ryan had warned him. If only he’d listened. Now, here he sat, hating himself. And Maggie still lay in that bed, undoubtedly trembling, waiting for him to come back and ravish her. If it hadn’t been so awful, he might have laughed. He’d never forced himself on a woman in his life, and he sure as hell didn’t plan to start now.

  “Aren’t you the picture of wedded bliss. Trouble in paradise already?”

  Rafe jerked his head up to see his brother standing in the feed-room doorway, a well-padded shoulder propped against the frame.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you knock some sense into me, Ryan?” He groaned again and passed a hand over his eyes. “Jesus. Since when have I started thinking of women as pieces of meat?”