'Susan took him into the house,' Royce said harshly, 'and that's where you're going right now.' Gesturing to the others to precede them, he took her arm and aimed her in the direction of the doorway, but she lost her balance and fell heavily against him. 'Two glasses of champagne!' he muttered between his teeth. Putting an arm around her and the other at her knees, he swept her up against his chest with a total disregard for her dignity.
'You're carrying me over the threshold,' she murmured, 'just like a real bride and groom. But we're not. You couldn't have made that very clear to the rest of your family, by the way they were acting.'
'Just shut up, Jennifer. I've been half out of my mind wondering what happened to you and you waltz in here drunk. Drunk! How could you?'
'I couldn't very well refuse to celebrate with Kate. They're getting a daughter tomorrow. They'll be a real family now. Besides, I'd never tasted champagne before.' She stared at him before letting her hand settle on the back of his neck where his hair clung lovingly to her fingers. It was the most natural thing in the world to let them trail over his ears in a featherlight caress. 'You have nice ears.'
He jerked his head roughly away from her. 'Don't!'
'You're ticklish,' she marvelled. 'Your handsome ears are ticklish.' Her laugh was soft and husky.
She was dimly aware of being carried up some stairs. High ceilings flashed by and she caught sight of an ornate wall sconce and oil paintings in wide gilt frames and deep thick carpeting. At least she thought there must be carpeting. Royce's steps didn't make any sound, and that was strange considering the quick way he was moving.
She let her eyes close, giving herself up to the floating sensation. How nice to be here, safe, secure, cradled against the warm muscular wall of his chest. She could hear the slow drumming of his heart and wished time would stop so she could stay like this for ever.
'I love you, you know,' she murmured, slipping a hand inside his unbuttoned shirt and blinking artlessly wide blue eyes up at him. Her hair spilled over his arm in a heavy brown mass.
His step faltered for a split second, then his lips tightened to a thin grim line.
'I'm sorry I'm not beautiful like your other women. It isn't fair for such a handsome man to have such a plain wife. You should have had Meg or— I thought you were having dinner with Moira DuMont tonight?' Her forehead wrinkled as if she should remember something, but then she shrugged. 'Moira—that's such a classy name, isn't it? I'll bet she's beautiful, too.' A small sigh escaped her. 'Meg always said I had a face that would stop a clock.' Her fingers unconsciously curled into his warm moist skin.
'Meg doesn't know what she's talking about,' Royce muttered, pushing open a door at the end of the hall and unceremoniously dropping her to her feet.
She would have fallen if he hadn't put both hands out to steady her.
'Have you had anything to eat today?' he asked, roughly removing her hand from inside his shirt as if it irritated him.
Her head spun when she tried to remember. 'I was too nervous this morning. And too busy at lunchtime.' She brushed her hair out of her dazed eyes. 'You wouldn't believe how many people were asking for you today. Kate was going to send out for some Chinese food, but I had to get Robbie home—' She looked away from his grim face and suddenly noticed she was in a bedroom. 'I can't go to bed until I've seen to Robbie.'
'Never mind. Mother and Susan will take care of him. They're perfectly capable.'
Jenna swallowed convulsively. 'I should be there. He'll probably feel strange. What if he cries for me? Or starts that choking cough?'
'They'll know what to do. Right now you're in no condition to even take care of yourself.'
'I'm perfectly capable. After all, I'm a paragon, aren't I?' She smiled at him, a dazzling smile full of promise.
Royce's look of irritation changed to a curious bleakness mingled with pain. 'I was wrong to think you could handle this. When I found out about you and Peter I should have called the whole thing off. Did the thought of having to marry his brother terrify you so much you had to get drunk before you could come to me?'
Jenna's whole face changed. Her eyes widened and became a brilliant bottomless blue. 'Peter has nothing to do with it. When everything was said and done, I married you because I love you. I always have.'
His hands tightened on her arms and brought her up sharply against him. 'Do you know what you're saying?'
'Of course,' she exclaimed indignantly, her words only slightly slurred. 'Every ounce of sense I have tells me I shouldn't, but I can't help it. You despise me, but I love you. You didn't really think I was any different from all your other women, did you? I've wanted so desperately to be your wife, to have the right to be near you always.'
'Why do you have to say these things now?' Royce muttered, his mouth twisting as his fury fled, leaving him an empty ache in its place. 'You're only complicating things. You're not supposed to love me. You know I don't love you.'
'It doesn't matter.' She looked into strangely shimmering grey eyes. Oh, but it did matter! She wished just once he could look at her the way he looked at his other women. Her throat ached with unspoken pleading and every nerve throbbed with a painful, yearning hunger. 'If only I was beautiful—'
'Don't look at me like that,' he said in a savage undertone. 'You're so full of invitation, but you won't remember any of it in the morning.'
She watched the shape of his lips move as if in a wondrous, enchanted dream. Then she was floating to him, her body featherlight, warm and soft as she melted in his arms, arching herself against him with a sensuous languor that came to her as naturally as breathing.
He tried to thrust her away from him, but she clung with a surprising strength.
'Don't shut me out, Royce. Just this once, pretend I'm a beautiful woman.'
A look of torment crossed his face and with a long sigh of exasperation he bent his head towards her and brushed his lips lightly against hers. 'Goodnight, Jennifer. You'll thank me in the morning for not taking advantage of you.' He pried her soft body away from him.
But she couldn't let it end there. Both her hands went up to frame his handsome face, dragging it down to hers, holding him still while she stood on tiptoe and pressed a demanding kiss to his mouth. When there was no answering return, she daringly ran the tip of her tongue across his lips and felt a betraying quiver run through him.
She was lost when his mouth opened warmly, covering hers, and with a sound that was almost a groan, his arms came right around her, crushing her to him.
Her head swam. She was conscious of the hard shuddering length of his body and the curious way his arms could be both gentle and rough at the same time. A wondrous thought came to her that her body was made for his. So small and slender, she melted into his tall, deceptive leanness. His mouth was fierce and achingly possessive, and whatever response he demanded, her untutored emotions answered, and the more he gave, the more she craved.
'I love you,' she murmured mindlessly into his mouth. 'I've been waiting for you all my life.'
His hands no longer bruised but roamed over her with gentle sensuality, and she gasped at the sudden sharpening of every one of her senses.
For an instant she drew back and looked straight into his face and saw so clearly all the strong angles and planes that made him so striking: thick black winged brows, grey eyes that were warm and caressing and unexpectedly gentle, the sharp straight line of his nose, the sensuous curve of his lips with the deep grooves on either side of them and the deep indentation in the middle of his chin.
She could feel the rapid thudding of his heart beneath her hands when she slid them from his neck inside his shirt, helplessly curling into the smooth muscled hardness of his chest. The faintly musky scent of his skin enveloped her and she breathed deeply, hearing his raw groan of desire before his mouth once again took hungry possession of hers, softening, deepening, giving her a taste of paradise.
A dazzling light danced before her eyes, bursting into a dizzy, spinning, blinding
brilliance. Her head fell back, exposing the delicate creamy arch of her neck to his feverishly questing lips. Her yearning for him grew and became an agony. His hands burned through the slippery fabric of her dress, fiercely closing over her breasts.
Moving restlessly against her, his hands slid down to her hips, crushing her more firmly to him, and for the first time in her life Jenna felt the fullness of a man's desire.
Her eyes widened. She became rigid. Her heart rose in her throat and cold reason returned like a slap in the face. Just as quickly, her stomach began to churn sickeningly. 'Royce!' she muttered.
He felt her stiffen and drew slightly away so he could look at her. There was a glazed, burning look in his eyes and his hair curled damply across his forehead. 'What—Oh God!'
In a split second he turned and half dragged, half carried her to the bathroom, where she retched miserably before thoroughly disgracing herself all over her dress and his suit and the floor…
The sun slanted in long rays across the pale green carpet when Jenna woke the next morning. She turned over groggily, automatically reaching out to the table beside the bed for her alarm clock, wondering why it hadn't rung. But the table wasn't there. Her hand encountered empty air. Something was banging abominably in her head, and panic began to tremble through her. Why hadn't Robbie cried and roused her? He never slept late. She blinked bewilderedly, trying to get her bearings. Unfamiliar pale green walls stared at her and long wide windows with ivory silk draperies met her gaze. Sitting bolt upright, she couldn't understand where she was.
And then, feeling a sudden chill, she looked down at herself and gasped. She was stark naked! Huddling back on to her pillows, she clutched the blanket to her chin, trying to remember what happened. Her head throbbed miserably. She must remember.
'Such an attack of modesty!' a deep familiar voice murmured.
Her whole body jerked wildly before she turned and looked to the other side of the wide bed and saw Royce. He was lying perfectly at ease beneath the covers, looking disgustingly well rested. One tanned arm was behind his head and his black hair was rumpled. A day's growth of beard darkened his face.
'What's the matter?' he asked. 'You look as if this is a new experience for you.'
Jenna closed her eyes and breathed deeply, counting to ten. This had to be some hideous nightmare. This couldn't be happening. Not to her!
When she opened them again he was still there.
'How—? Did you and I—? Did we—?' She shuddered, her face flaming.
'Don't you remember?' He turned on his side and faced her, propping himself up on one elbow.
The blanket fell away from him and she noticed he didn't have a shirt on. For one horrified instant she wondered if he, too, was naked. Her heart bounded to her throat and she would have bolted out of bed, but without anything to cover her, she was trapped.
His smile was knowing. 'Well and truly caught, aren't you?'
'Please, Royce! What happened? Why are we sharing this bed?'
'Don't you remember?' His smile became maddening. 'Tell me just exactly what you do recall about last night.'
Jenna swallowed nervously. 'I remember walking towards your house. It looked so… so huge. And then your family was there. So many people… And then…' she moistened suddenly dry lips, '… and then I was sick.'
'That's it?'
'What else is there?' she barely whispered. The sound was full of dread.
'You don't remember throwing yourself into my arms and telling me you loved me?'
All the colour drained from her face.
'Don't look so stricken. I knew it was the alcohol talking. Some people get belligerent when they drink. Some weep. Some giggle. You got all soft and loving, tantalising me with an air of sweet promise.'
She shrank back into the pillows and wanted to die. Her teeth bit sharply into her bottom lip to hold back a trembling sob of despair. 'That must have given you a good laugh!'
'You were different from what I expected, I'll give you that,' he said softly. 'I've caught glimpses of your passion before and had to wonder what the real Jennifer Caldwell was like. For someone who projects the image of untouchable ice, you're really something.'
Almost automatically Jenna lifted her chin, determined not to cower in front of him. However much she dreaded the answer, she had to know. 'Was it your idea or mine that we— sleep—here together?'
With slow deliberate movements, Royce closed the wide space separating them. His big warm hand reached out to stroke her cheek before sliding down to rest on the side of her neck, making her shiver. 'You're my wife,' he whispered huskily, a muscle jerking in his jaw. 'Last night was our wedding night. Why shouldn't we sleep together?'
Unexpected pain flashed in her eyes. She had slept with him and she had missed it! Shouldn't she have remembered something as momentous as that? Shouldn't she feel differently now? More complete somehow? But all she felt was bewildered panic. 'You said it would be a platonic relationship,' she choked.
'You changed the conditions of our marriage, not I,' Royce murmured thickly.
'Oh, God,' she muttered, wishing she could move away from him but afraid that one false move would dislodge the blankets and bring down even more humiliation on her.
So now he must know she wasn't Robbie's real mother. Why wasn't he asking a million questions? Instead, she was full of them. What actually happened between them? Her knowledge of the intimacies shared by husbands and wives was limited to biology books and romance novels that hinted at all sorts of things but never really told her much. If only she could remember! Had it been good? Did he enjoy it? Did she do it right? Had she made him happy? But how could she come right out and ask him such things? She was becoming more and more intensely aware of the nearness of his lean hard body and slightly musky scent, and she began to quiver and her cheeks stung with a brilliant heated colour.
His fingers curled on her neck, caressing the slender bones, not letting her move. A flash of pain ran across Royce's face as if he remembered something he'd rather forget. Just for an instant, he looked so vulnerable, but then it vanished.
Her heart plunged and a freezing coldness swept over her. Faltering under his penetrating gaze, she tried to keep her composure in spite of the stinging shame and embarrassment coursing through her. It could not have been very good. He must have been turned off by her inexperience.
'There's no excuse for what I did last night,' she said huskily. 'Saying I'm sorry won't change anything. But if you're waiting for an explanation, I can't give you one. I can't even begin to try to make you understand.'
Royce studied her and a strange light flickered across his face before his lips twisted with icy displeasure. He moved his hand away as if she contaminated him. 'You've got more stubborn pride than anybody I've ever known! What are you ashamed of? Getting drunk? Or making love to me?' Scorn dripped from his voice. 'You don't remember, do you?' he grated angrily.
Her breathing stopped. Her eyes became huge and stricken.
'The most passionate woman I've ever held in my arms and you don't remember!' He kept staring at her, the blanket the only thing between them. He was breathing hard and the air was heavy with something she couldn't understand. Then he levered himself away from her and moved to the other side of the bed with a sound of disgust rumbling deep in his throat. 'Don't worry. In spite of your tantalising act of incredible innocence and smouldering passion, I couldn't forget my brother had you first. I've never taken his leavings before, and I'm not about to start now. The only reason we shared this bed is because Adam kept hanging around wanting to make sure you were all right. I think it'll put his mind at rest if he believes we're a normal married couple for a while.'
'But—'
His look of freezing scorn silenced her. 'For the rest of the week, until my mother gets married on Saturday, I'll be sleeping here. This bed is wide enough to sleep four comfortably. You won't even know I'm here.'
Jenna made a helpless movement beneath the blankets. Even
if he was on the other side of this huge house, she'd be conscious of his every move.
'You don't have to be full of regrets, Jennifer. I've got enough for both of us.' He stood up, and she was thankful to see the black silk of his pyjama bottoms. 'When you threw up last night, you ruined your dress and my suit,' he said harshly. 'Before you passed out I undressed you.'
At her gasp of embarrassment, his mouth twisted derisively. 'You were quite willing, and in different circumstances I might have enjoyed it. Your things are in the closet.' He gestured to two louvred doors on the wall behind him. 'Everything is there. I took the liberty of moving all your belongings yesterday. That's how I spent my time, in case you wondered. Your landlady was grateful she didn't have to evict you as she threatened.'
Her head shot up automatically and she opened her mouth to say something, but he sliced through her denial.
'Don't bother denying it. She took great pleasure in showing me the eviction notice.'
Jenna's chin dipped back down to her chest in defeated silence. There was nothing she could say. It was useless even to try.
'If only you'd waited a few more minutes before leaving the office…' The thin thread of anger ran out of him, leaving his voice curiously raw and full of pain. 'I didn't expect you to have to find your own way home. My mother had arranged a small reception for us with my family and a few close friends, but when I got back to the office, my paragon of independence had already gone.'
She looked up quickly, confusion making her frown. 'But—I thought you had a date with Moira DuMont? I made reservations—'
'You have a pretty low opinion of me, don't you? It was our wedding day, Jennifer.'
'But—the white roses you had me send—'
'I send roses to a lot of different women for a lot of different reasons. You're my wife now, but that doesn't mean I have to start explaining my actions to you.'
She stared in bewilderment. 'Then, all along, you didn't intend to have dinner with another woman just to humiliate me?'
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