“Me, too.”
“Good. We’ll celebrate.” Tucking his arm beneath her knees, he started for the bedroom. He stopped abruptly when he saw her suitcase sitting at the end of the hallway. His eyes were filled with questions as they met hers.
“Are you going somewhere?”
She nodded. “My parents have decided to take an extended trip south.”
“So?”
“So, according to the terms of our marriage agreement, I’m moving back into my own home.”
Thirteen
“You’re moving out just like that?” Nash asked, lowering her feet to the ground. He stepped away from her as if he needed to put some distance between them. His eyes narrowed and he studied her, his expression shocked.
Savannah hadn’t expected him to look at her like that. This was what they’d decided in the beginning, it was what he said he wanted after the first time they’d made love. She’d asked, wanting to be clear on exactly what her role in his life was to be, and Nash had said that making love changed nothing.
“This shouldn’t come as a surprise,” she said, struggling to keep her voice as even as possible.
“Is it what you want?” He thrust his hands deep inside his pockets and glared at her icily.
“Well?” he demanded when she didn’t immediately answer.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m keeping my end of the bargain. What do you want me to do?”
Nash gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’m not going to hold you prisoner here against your wishes, if that’s what you’re asking.”
That wasn’t what she was asking. She wanted some indication that he loved her and wanted her living with him. Some indication that he intended to throw out their stupid prenuptial agreement and make this marriage real. Apparently Nash wasn’t interested.
“When are your parents leaving?”
“Friday morning, at dawn.”
“So soon?”
She nodded. “Dad wanted to wait until Mom was strong enough to travel comfortably…and evidently she is now.”
“I see.” Nash wandered into the kitchen. “So you’re planning to move out right away?”
“I…thought I’d take some clothes over to my house this evening.”
“You certainly seem to be in a rush.”
“Not really. I’ve managed to bring quite a few of my personal things here. I…imagine you’ll want me out as quickly as possible.” The smallest sign that he loved her would be enough to convince her to stay. A simple statement of need. A word. A look. Anything.
Nash offered nothing.
He opened the refrigerator and took out a cold soda, popping it open.
“I started dinner while I was waiting for you,” she said. “The casserole’s in the oven.”
Nash took a long swallow of his soda. “I appreciate the effort, but I don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”
Savannah didn’t, either. Calmly she walked over and turned off the oven. She stood with her back to Nash and bit her lip.
What a romantic fool she was, hoping the impossible would happen. She’d known when she agreed to marry him that it would be like this. He was going to break her heart. She’d tried to protect herself from exactly this, but it hadn’t worked.
These past few weeks had been the happiest of her life and nothing he said now would take them away from her. He loved her, she knew he did, as much as it was possible for Nash to love anyone. He’d never said the words, but he didn’t need to. She felt them when she slept in his arms. She experienced them each time they made love.
Her heart constricted with fresh pain. She didn’t want to leave Nash, but she couldn’t stay, not unless he specifically asked, and it was clear he had no intention of doing so.
She heard him leave the room, which was just as well since she was having a hard time not breaking into tears.
She was angry then. Unfortunately there wasn’t a door to slam or anything handy to throw. Having a temper tantrum was exactly what she felt like doing.
Dinner was a waste. She might as well throw the whole thing in the garbage. Opening the oven door, she reached inside and grabbed the casserole dish.
Intense, unexpected pain shot through her fingers as she touched the dish.
She cried out and jerked her hand away. Stumbling toward the sink, she held her fingers under cold running water.
“Savannah?” Nash rushed into the kitchen. “What happened?”
“I’m all right,” she said, fighting back tears by taking deep breaths. If she was lucky, her fingers wouldn’t blister, but she seemed to be out of luck lately.
“What happened?” Nash demanded again.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, not wanting to answer him because that required concentration and effort, and all she could think of at the moment was pain. Physical pain. Emotional agony. The two were intermingled until she didn’t know where one stopped and the other started.
“Let me look at what you’ve done,” he said, moving close to her.
“No,” Savannah said, jerking her arm away from him. “It’s nothing.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Leave me alone,” she cried, sobbing openly now, her shoulders heaving. “Just leave me alone. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m your husband.”
She whirled on him, unintentionally splashing him with cold water. “How can you say that when you can hardly wait to be rid of me?”
“What are you talking about?” he shouted. “I wasn’t the one who packed my bags and casually announced I was leaving. If you want to throw out questions, then you might start by asking yourself what kind of wife you are!”
Savannah rubbed her uninjured hand beneath her nose. “You claimed you didn’t want a wife.”
“I didn’t until I married you.” Nash opened the freezer portion of the refrigerator and brought out a tub of ice cubes. “Sit down,” he said in tones that brooked no argument. She complied. He set the tub on the table and gently placed her burned fingers inside it. “The first couple of minutes will be uncomfortable, but after that you won’t feel much,” he explained calmly.
Savannah continued to sob.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I was taking out the baking dish.”
Nash frowned. “Did the oven mitt slip?”
“I forgot to use one,” she admitted.
He took a moment to digest this information before kneeling down at her feet. His eyes probed hers and she lowered her gaze. Tucking his finger beneath her chin, he leveled her eyes to his.
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I…was upset.”
“About what?”
She shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth. “These things happen and…”
“Why?” he repeated softly.
“Because you’re an idiot,” she flared.
“I know you’re upset about me not wanting dinner, but—”
“Dinner?” she cried, incredulous. “You think this is because you didn’t want dinner? How can any man be so dense?” She vaulted to her feet, her burned fingers forgotten. “You were just going to let me walk out of here.”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong? And how did you plan to stop me?”
“I figured I’d move in with you.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. The agreement, as originally written, states that you’ll move out of my premises after your parents decide to travel and you—”
“I know what that stupid piece of paper says,” Savannah said, frowning.
“If you don’t want to live with me, then it makes perfect sense for me to—”
“I do want to live with you, you idiot,” she broke in. “I was hoping you’d do something—anything—to convince me to stay.”
Nash was quiet for a few seconds. “Let me see if I have this straight. You were going to move out, although you didn’t want to. Is that r
ight?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted you to ask me to stay.”
“Ah, I understand now. You do one thing, hoping I’ll respond by asking you to do the opposite.”
She shrugged, realizing how silly it sounded in the cold light of reason. “I…guess so.”
“Let this be a lesson to you, Savannah Davenport,” Nash said, taking her in his arms. “If you want something, all you need to do is ask for it. If you’d simply sought my opinion, you’d have learned an important fact.”
“Oh?”
“I’m willing to move heaven and earth to make sure we’re together for the rest of our natural lives.”
“You are?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m in love with you.” A surprised look must have come over her because he added, “You honestly didn’t know?”
“I…prayed you were, but I didn’t dare hope you’d admit it. I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t remember when I didn’t love you.”
He kissed her gently, his mouth coaxing and warm. “Promise you won’t ever stop loving me. I need you so badly. It wasn’t until you were in my life that I saw how jaded I’d become. Taking on so many divorce cases didn’t help my attitude any. I’ve made a decision that’s due to your influence on me. When I graduated from law school, I specialized in tax and tax laws. I’m going back to that.”
“Oh, Nash, I’m so pleased.”
He kissed her with a hunger that left her weak and clinging.
“I can ask for anything?” she murmured between kisses.
“Anything.”
“Throw away that stupid agreement.”
He smiled boyishly and pressed his forehead against hers. “I already have…. The first night, after we made love.”
“You might have told me!”
“I intended to when the time was right.”
“And when did you calculate that to be?” she asked, having difficulty maintaining her feigned outrage.
“Soon. Very soon.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “But not soon enough.”
“I had high hopes for us from the first. I opened my mouth and stuck my foot in it at the beginning by suggesting that ludicrous marriage-of-convenience idea. Marriage, the second time around, is a lot more frightening because you’ve already made one mistake.”
“Our marriage isn’t a mistake,” she assured him. “I won’t let it be.”
“I felt that if I had control of the situation, I might be able to control my feelings for you, but after Susan’s wedding I knew that was going to be impossible.”
“Why didn’t you follow your own advice and ask how I felt?” she said, thinking of all the weeks they’d wasted.
“We haven’t been on the best of terms, have we?” he murmured.
Savannah was embarrassed now by what a shrew she’d been. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly in an effort to make up for those first weeks.
“You said I can ask for anything I want?” she said against his lips.
“Hmm…anything,” he agreed.
“I’d like a baby.”
Nash’s eyes flew open with undisguised eagerness. “How soon?”
“Well…I was thinking we could start on the project tonight.”
A slow, lazy smile came into place. “That’s a very good idea. Very good indeed.”
Three years later…
* * *
“I can’t believe the changes in Nash,” Susan commented to Savannah. She and Kurt had flown up from California to spend the Christmas holiday with them this year. The two women were working in the kitchen.
“He’s such a good father to Jacob,” Savannah said, blinking back tears. She cried so easily when she was pregnant, and she was entering her second trimester with this baby. If the ultrasound was accurate, they were going to have a little girl.
“Nash is doing so well and so are you. But don’t you miss working at the shop?”
“No, I’ve got a wonderful manager and you can imagine how busy a fourteen-month-old keeps me. I’ve thought about going back part-time and then decided not to, not yet at any rate. What about you? Will you continue teaching?” Savannah softly patted Susan’s slightly distended stomach.
“No, but I’ll probably work on a substitute basis to keep up my credentials so when our family’s complete, I can return without a lot of hassle.”
“That’s smart.”
“She’s my sister, isn’t she?” Nash said, walking into the kitchen, cradling his son in his arms. Jacob babbled happily, waving his rattle in every direction. He’d been a contented baby from the first. Their joy.
Kurt’s arms surrounded his wife and he flattened his hands over her stomach. “We’ve decided to have our two close together, the same way you and Savannah planned your family.”
Savannah and Nash exchanged smiles. “Planned?” she teased her husband.
“The operative word there is two,” Nash said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Sweetheart, we’ve been over this a hundred times. I really would like four.”
“Four!” Nash cried. “The last time we talked you said three.”
“I’ve changed my mind. Four is a nice even number.”
“Four children is out of the question,” Nash said with a disgruntled look, then seemed to notice Kurt and Susan staring at him. “We’ll talk about this later, all right? But we will talk.”
“Of course we will,” Savannah promised, unable to hold back a smile.
“She’s going to do it,” Nash grumbled to his sister and brother-in-law. “Somehow, before I’ve figured out how she’s managed it, we’ll be a family of six.”
“You’ll love it, Nash, I promise.” The oven timer rang and Savannah glanced at the clock. “Oh, dear, I’ve got to get busy. Mr. Serle and Mr. Stackhouse will be here any minute.”
“This is something else she didn’t tell me before we were married,” Nash said, his eyes shining with love. “She charms the most unexpected people….”
“They love Jacob,” Savannah reminded him.
“True,” Nash said wryly. “I’ve never seen two old men more taken with a toddler.”
“And I’ve never seen a man more taken with his wife,” Susan added. “I could almost be jealous, but there’s no need.” She turned to her husband and put her arms around his neck. “Still, it doesn’t do any harm to keep him on his toes.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Savannah agreed. And they all laughed.
Bride Wanted
New York Times Bestselling Author
Debbie Macomber
One
Julia Conrad wasn’t a patient woman at the best of times. She paced her office, repeatedly circling her high-gloss black-lacquer-and-brass desk. She felt so helpless. She should’ve gone to Citizenship and Immigration Services with Jerry rather than wait for their decision.
Rubbing her palms together, she retracted the thought. She was a wreck and the Immigration people would have instantly picked up on that and it could hurt their case. She couldn’t help being anxious. The future of the company rested on the outcome of today’s hearing. Ultimately she was the one responsible for the welfare of Conrad Industries, the business her grandfather had started thirty years earlier.
In an effort to calm herself she stared out the window. The weather seemed to echo her mood. There was a ceiling of black clouds, thunder roared and a flash of lightning briefly brightened the room. The lights flickered.
Julia’s reflection was mirrored in the window and she frowned, mesmerized by the unexpected sight of herself. Her dark hair was swept back from her face and secured with a gold clasp. She wore a dark suit with a pale gray blouse, which—in her view, anyway—conveyed tasteful refinement. She looked cool, calm and collected, but inside she was a mass of tension and nerves. At thirty she had a pleasant face when she smiled, but she hadn’t been doing much of that lately. Not in the past three years.
Her cheekbones were high, her jaw strong, but it was her eyes that told the story. Her eyes revealed vulnerability and pain.
The image of herself distressed Julia and she hurriedly glanced away. Sighing, she circled her desk once more, silently praying for patience. She was determined to get the company back on its feet, to overcome the odds they faced. Jerry, her brother, had worked with her, sacrificing his personal life the way she had hers. They’d met with a handful of small successes. And now this.
Both Julia and Jerry were determined to revive Conrad Industries. Julia owed her father that much. Jerry had shown such faith in her by volunteering his services. If their situations were reversed, she wasn’t sure she would’ve been so forgiving. But her brother had stuck by her through all the turmoil.
Slowly she lowered her gaze, disturbed by that revelation. However, she didn’t have the time or the inclination to worry about it. If she ever needed a cool head and a cooler heart, it was now. Two years’ worth of innovative research was about to be lost because they’d allowed the fate of the company to hinge on the experiments and ideas of one man. Aleksandr Berinski was a brilliant Russian biochemist. Jerry had met him some years earlier while traveling in Europe and convinced Julia he was the answer to their problems. Her brother was right; Alek’s ideas would revolutionize the paint industry. Bringing him to the United States had been a bold move on their part, but she hadn’t been sorry. Not once.
Hiring Aleksandr Berinski from Russia and moving him to Seattle—it was the biggest risk Conrad Industries had ever taken. Now the fate of the company rested in the hands of a hard-nosed official.
Julia wondered again if she should’ve attended the hearing at the district office of Citizenship and Immigration. She’d done everything within her power to make sure Aleksandr’s visa would be extended. She’d written a letter explaining his importance to the company and included documentation to prove that Aleksandr Berinski was a man of distinct merit and exceptional ability.
Jerry, who was a very good corporate attorney, had spent weeks building their case. Professional certifications, affidavits, a copy of Aleksandr’s diploma and letters of reference filled Jerry’s briefcase.