“I don’t have anything to say, except I can’t believe this is happening.” His response was somber.
“It’s done. We’ll all have to make the best of it.”
“Can you do that?” He eyed her closely.
“I have to.”
Truthfully, she feared that being Mrs. Derrick Chandler wouldn’t be nearly as hard as having to stop being Derrick’s wife.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you—you know that I understand why you did what you did.”
“I know you do.” He suddenly grabbed and hugged her close, as if he would never let her go. “If he hurts you…”
“He won’t.”
She knew without a doubt that Derrick wouldn’t harm her physically. However, she was afraid there had already been irreparable damage done to her emotionally. How much more there would be after months of living with him as his wife, she couldn’t begin to guess.
“He’d better not.”
“Smile.” She forced herself to follow her own advice.
He tried, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Her own eyes grew distant as she contemplated her immediate future. Soon, very soon she would have to leave here with her husband—with Derrick. She would have to be alone with him, and she would be expected to give herself to him totally, a prospect that didn’t repulse her, but rather unnerved and, dare she think it, excited her.
Today marked the start of new life as Mrs. Derrick Chandler and in a few short hours, she would truly begin her life as his lover. She shivered at the thought. There was no longer any denying to him, and certainly not to herself, that she wanted him physically. In a matter of hours, she would have him and he would, in turn, have all of her with all that implied.
Derrick and Cam stood together watching as Angela, Alesha’s maid of honor, and her bridesmaids surrounded Alesha on the other side of the room. Derrick watched his bride with mixed emotions—he had felt strange all day. He had been mesmerized as she had made her stunning entrance at the church. As they had recited their vows, an emotion he dared not name had assailed him. Of course, he knew their marriage was a carefully orchestrated arrangement, but he really felt married to her. It was unnerving and exciting. He wondered if she felt the same way.
“Well, you two did it—and very well, I might add.” Cam slapped him on the back.
“Did you ever doubt it?” Derrick smiled, grateful for the intrusion on his disturbing thoughts. “Thanks for understanding why I had Robert as my best man.”
“No problem. It looked good for the photographers.”
“Spoken like a true campaign manager.” Derrick chuckled.
“Alesha is a beautiful bride.”
“Yes, she is.”
Derrick’s eyes easily found his wife across the room. She was smiling at something one of her bridesmaids had whispered to her—a beautiful smile, a smile he was sure could light up the world as it lit up his heart.
Cam studied his friend closely as he watched his bride. There was something in his expression that Cam couldn’t put a finger on. He had watched the two of them all day, and as he had informed his friend weeks ago, he didn’t think either of them was as aloof toward this marriage or each other as they insisted they were.
Derrick, aware of Cam’s thoughtful scrutiny turned cool eyes toward his friend. “Don’t start.”
Cam smiled. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
“Oh, yes, you were. But don’t.”
Derrick’s eyes gravitated back to stare at his beautiful bride. Cam’s eyes followed Derrick’s and his smile widened; though, as his friend had suggested, he remained silent.
All too soon, Alesha sat alone in her dressing room. She gazed at her frightened expression in the mirror. Now that she was alone, she was finally able to let her happy facade fade. Her heart was beating frantically, and she knew if she didn’t gain control of herself very soon, she would faint.
She stood and smoothed nervous hands down the front of the pale blue suit she wore. The long jacket almost reached the hem of her just-above-the-knee matching skirt, which had a half-inch slit up the right front side. She brushed her hair until some of the curls had disappeared, but left it loose, though it was brushed away from her face. She slowly sat down again, her wobbly legs unable to support her.
She knew the reason for her apprehension—soon she would be alone with her husband, and would, therefore, put an end to all the imaginings her mind had conjured up about the night that was rapidly approaching. She shuddered visibly as she thought of Derrick and her alone in the most intimate of situations and positions. Despite herself, her heart skipped several beats in…anticipation?
A knock at the door made her jump. Taking a last look at her nervous reflection, she stood, walked over to open the door and found Derrick there.
“Are you ready to go?” His piercing eyes took note of her pale cheeks and troubled eyes.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She placed her arms through the coat he held up for her.
“You look excited.”
“What do I have to be excited about?” She pulled away from him, angry that he could read her so easily.
“Nothing yet,” he paused suggestively. “But soon.”
She gasped. “Are you ready?”
He smiled. “More than ready.”
He placed an arm around her slender waist as they walked down the hall. When they reached the top of the spiral staircase, she saw that the single women had gathered at the bottom of the staircase. Alesha turned her back to them and threw the bouquet down. Laughter and shouts of glee reached her as Angela came up with the bouquet, minus a few flowers that had been snatched out along the way as many hands had tried to grab it. Alesha threw a kiss to her best friend, who smiled and held up the bouquet as if she didn’t know what to do with it.
She turned toward Derrick, who was smiling wickedly. He slowly slid his hand under the hem of her skirt, raising it slightly to reveal her upper thigh and the pale blue garter that rested there. She braced herself so as not to melt as his hand splayed warmly against her sensitive skin before his fingers began to remove the garter from her thigh. Ever so slowly he pulled the elastic down before finally straightening, eyes gleaming with merriment as he stared into her flushed, embarrassed face. He placed a kiss on her luscious lips before turning and throwing the garter down into the howling men below, right into Cam’s outstretched fingers.
“Way to go, Cam!” Derrick’s shout caused everyone to burst out in laughter.
“Thanks, bro.” Cam’s dry tone prompted more laughter from the gathered crowd.
Cam and Angela turned to stare at each other, smiling slightly. He walked over to her slowly, and amid more laughter and wolf calls, placed the garter on her thigh.
“I guess we’re next.” He smiled into Angela’s good-natured eyes.
“That is the tradition.” She returned his smile. They both turned to stare as Derrick and Alesha made their way down the stairs.
“I’ve never been one for traditions, but I think I could make an exception in this case,” Cam whispered in her ear.
“Maybe I could, too,” she softly responded with her back still toward him, not daring to turn around to face him.
All too quickly, Derrick and Alesha were off amid flying birdseed and well wishes. She caught a glimpse of her mother and brother and blew them both a kiss. Her mother looked ecstatic, while her brother’s expression was a mask of melancholy.
They exited the door and ran hand in hand to Derrick’s black Jaguar. Once tucked inside, Alesha tried unsuccessfully to quell the nervousness mounting within her. Derrick started the car and it moved smoothly and speedily down the road. She stared out the window until the r
eception hall was a tiny blur in the distance. Lord help her, she had done it. She was on her way to her new life—a life that, if she was honest with herself, didn’t terrify her nearly as much as she had thought it would.
They had been driving for a little over an hour, saying little, each engrossed in their own thoughts. She placed a hand on her nervously churning stomach and closed her eyes, resting her head on the soft leather headrest. She tried to calm her nerves. She wouldn’t think about anything for a few minutes. She would just relax and listen to the soft music wafting from the speakers.
Derrick glanced at Alesha’s silent profile. Her eyes were closed and she looked tenser than he had ever seen her. He knew she was nervous, but he didn’t know what he could do to alleviate that. He had tried to talk and she had been unresponsive. Maybe once they arrived at the house, she would relax, although he silently admitted she would probably get even more tense. He knew she was worried about being alone with him.
He reminded himself again that she had known exactly what she was letting herself in for. He hadn’t lied to her or tried to deceive her in any way. He had told her what he had expected, and she had agreed to his terms. Now she would just have to learn to live with her decision.
“Well, here we are.”
She jumped nervously at his voice. Opening her eyes, she glanced out the frosty window at the lovely two-story house (which he had called a cottage) as he stopped the car. She remained inside until he walked around and opened the door for her. Taking her hand, he helped her out before leading her inside.
“It’s beautiful.” She glanced around her apprehensively.
“Thanks.” He took her coat and hat, placing them onto a chair in the hallway.
He went back out into the cold night air and returned moments later with their bags, which he sat down in front of the stairs. “Would you like to go to our bedroom and change for dinner?”
Our bedroom, she silently echoed. Oh, the visions those little words fired off in her head. “Yes, thank you.”
He nodded and, picking up their bags, started up the stairs. “Follow me.”
He ushered her into a spacious room with a huge cherry-oak, king-size bed covered with a black-satin comforter and shams. Much to her relief and dismay, he quickly excused himself after showing her where the bathroom was.
She walked over to the bed and sat down nervously. She fingered the soft comforter, her eyes lingering on the huge bed she and Derrick would be sharing shortly. Visions of the two of them lying there naked, entangled in the soft sheets, tortured and teased her mind. What would his skin feel like against hers? What would it be like to…? She refused to complete that thought, quickly jumped up and almost ran into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would ease the confusion and maddening sense of anticipation coursing through her veins.
Chapter 7
Approximately forty minutes later, she descended the stairs, wearing an emerald-green, long-sleeved silk dress. Her hair was swept away from her face, though she had left it loose.
Following soft strands of romantic music, she entered the study. Derrick was standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, but turned to stare appreciatively at her as she entered.
He was dressed in tan slacks and a burgundy sweater. He had shaven, and seeing his slightly damp hair, she realized that he had showered, too. At least he had not barged in on her. She conceded he was trying to be considerate—for that she was grateful.
At her puzzled gaze, he said, “I used the guest bedroom to change.” He slightly stressed the word change, making her aware that he would not be using it later when it came time for bed.
She forced herself to walk over to where he stood, stopping inches in front of him. She would have spoken to break the uneasy silence, but she didn’t know what to say.
“Did you find everything you needed?” With great difficulty, he resisted the need to touch her.
“Yes.” She linked her hands together nervously.
“Dinner is ready, if you are.”
“I’m ready.” She paused before quickly elaborating, “I’m ready for dinner.”
He smiled broadly at her words, but made no further response, ushering her into the dining room where a romantic, candlelit table for two was set. A magnum of champagne was beside the table, and a bouquet of red roses lay beside her plate. She almost laughed out loud as her eyes surveyed the romantic scene before her. If things were different, she would have been pleased—a big part of her was pleased, even now.
He held out her chair for her as she sat down before seating himself opposite her at the small table. He only had to reach his hand out to touch her face—that thought made her breath catch in her throat. To remove her eyes from the disturbing depths of his, she looked at the roses, fingering a soft petal lightly.
“These are beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
He wondered why he had an absurd impulse to say something corny, like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, or that he was glad she was his wife. “Would you like some champagne?”
“I’d love some.” She gratefully accepted, raising her glass as he popped the cork before placing some of the foaming liquid into her glass.
She downed the contents in one gulp before the bubbles had subsided and offered her glass for more. Derrick raised an eyebrow at her actions, but refilled her glass nevertheless. She disposed of that in the same fashion and offered her glass for more. But he shook his head.
“Getting drunk is not going to help anything.” He replaced the champagne in its holder.
“I’m not trying to get drunk.”
She only wanted to relax—something that seemed impossible to do in his presence.
“Alesha, try to calm down. I’m not going to devour you.”
Absurdly, she thought it might not be such a bad thing if he did. She wanted to unleash the passion that had been hinted at every time they had touched. She wanted him, but she was afraid—both of him and of herself.
She managed a half smile. “Derrick, I…”
Unexpectedly, he grabbed her hand, his fingers lightly caressing hers. “It’s not as if this is your first time.”
She blushed hotly and looked away. How did he expect her to discuss such intimate matters with him? If she told him that he was her first, he wouldn’t believe her. He wouldn’t believe her because she had led him to believe otherwise, she silently amended.
“Alesha.” The soft yet firm way he called her name made her look at him. “I won’t rush you.”
“I know.” Her voice was barely audible as tiny shivers of anticipation raced up her arm at his light, teasing touch.
“Do you?” He spoke so softly she thought she had imagined it.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and then released it slowly. “Maybe if I had a few days to…”
“No, Alesha, there will be no days, weeks or months,” he quickly yet gently interrupted, fingers stilling their seduction of her wrist. “I mean to make love to you tonight.”
She snatched her hand away from his. “Do you have to talk so bluntly?”
He sat back in his chair and poured himself a glass of champagne. Taking a sip he reminded, “We are husband and wife.”
“I know, but it’s so…new…” Her voice trailed off. She suddenly longed for some more champagne—a lot more.
“You want me, don’t you?”
His question made her eyes grow to twice their normal size. She was glad she didn’t have any champagne in her glass to drink. She would have choked on it.
“How can you ask me such a thing?” She brought a hand to her suddenly constricted throat.
“It’s obvious.” He smiled slightly at her distress. “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“What do you expect? Ours is not exactly a normal marriage, is it?” She didn’t deny or confirm his words. “Can’t you try to be more patient?”
“I am, and I have been.” His response was calm. “I could have already taken you while we were engaged. However, I gave you time to adjust.”
“Don’t say that!” She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat as red stained her cheeks.
“Say what?” He smiled slightly, knowing to what she alluded.
“You know what.” She ran her tongue across her dry lips and his eyes watched her every movement. “It sounds so, so…animalistic.” He laughed heartily at her words, and that was her undoing. “Damn you. Don’t be amused by me!”
“It’s hard not to be.” He wiped the tears of merriment from his eyes. “Animalistic?” he echoed, still smiling. Then, seriously, he said, “You don’t know what animalistic is…” He paused for emphasis before adding, “yet.”
She stood abruptly, food forgotten. “I’m really not very hungry. I’d like to…” She stopped herself, eyes widening in shock at what she had been about to say.
He also stood. “You’d like to what?” He smiled wickedly. “Go to bed?” He’d correctly interpreted what she had been about to say.
“No, I wasn’t going to say that, I…” Her voice trailed off as her heart leaped in her throat.
“Let’s both go to bed.” He took her hand and nearly dragged her up the stairs, not stopping until they reached their bedroom.
Once inside, he started to pull her into his arms. “Wait!” She placed hands on his chest to ward him off. Things were moving too fast—much too fast. “I—I have to change.”
“Why? You won’t wear it for long.” He pulled her body closer again.
“Please, please, Derrick.” Her hands on his chest warded him off.
He looked at the nervous expression on her face and he knew she needed a little more time. “All right, but don’t take too long.”
“I won’t.” She picked up her overnight case before almost running to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and locking it.
These Arms of Mine Page 9