Secret Son, Convenient Wife

by Maxine Sullivan

  Tate had been standing by the large windows, but now he moved in closer, his eyes narrowing. “So the only reason you came to see Gemma now is because she’s married?”

  Her mother’s face showed that she clearly didn’t like Tate’s tone. “That and because we wanted to see our grandson.”

  “Whom you haven’t asked about,” he pointed out.

  “Give us time,” her father tried to joke.

  Tate came to stand by the sofa, intimidating as he looked down at the older pair. “I’d imagine that would be one of the first things I’d ask about.”

  “Of course you would,” Frank said, his tone placating. “He’s your son. We’re only his grandparents.”

  Tate’s eyebrows shot up. “Only? That about says it all, doesn’t it?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “And that’s the real shame of it,” Tate said, and a split second later he indicated the door with a brief dip of his head. “I’ll see you both out now.”

  There was a stunned silence.

  For a few seconds no one moved.

  In spite of everything, Gemma was dismayed by what was happening. She’d didn’t want it to end like this. It had hurt so much the last time they’d walked away from her.

  “Are you going to let him talk to us this way?” Meryl Watkins demanded of her daughter.

  Put on the spot, Gemma’s mind stumbled. She’d tried over and over to stand up to her mother, but she had always felt intimidated. In the end, it had been better to leave home. “Er…Tate has a point,” she said, not daring to look directly at him, knowing what he would be thinking. But he had to understand there was something so…final about all this.

  The older woman got to her feet. “The only point your husband has made is that he’s kicking us out of his house.”

  “Our house,” Tate corrected. “Mine and Gemma’s house. And our son’s.”

  “Come on, Frank. It’s clear we’re not wanted here.”

  Tate’s mouth turned sour. “Good God, I don’t believe you two. You haven’t seen your daughter for more than a year, yet you both came in here without giving her a hug or a kiss. And you didn’t even mention your grandson. So I have to ask myself why you’re here at all.” He scanned the pair, then a steely look entered his eyes. “I suspect you’ve been shamed into this by your friends. Is that what this is all about?”

  As if he’d touched a nerve, her mother reddened. “How dare you!”

  “I dare.”

  Suddenly Gemma knew that’s exactly what this visit was about. Their daughter had married into a prominent family, and they were frightened they wouldn’t look good in front of their friends. After all, if Gemma could catch a man like Tate Chandler, then perhaps she wasn’t so terrible…

  “You’ll regret this, Mr. Chandler,” Meryl said now. “Your family’s good name will be mud by the time we finish telling everyone how you stopped us from seeing our daughter and our grandson.”

  At the threat, Gemma finally found her mental footing. For the first time in her life, she understood that she had done nothing to deserve the treatment her parents had dished out to her. Just like Nathan had done nothing wrong. Nor Tate. This battleground was all her parents’ doing.

  “Mom, while you’re at it, don’t forget to tell them how you and Dad turned your back on your unmarried, pregnant daughter, leaving me alone to fend for myself and my child.”

  Her mother pursed her lips. “You knew the rules.”

  “Rules?” Gemma scoffed. “Oh, yes, it’s rules that matter to you, not me or your grandson.”

  Her father was shaking his head as he got to his feet. “Gemma, please, your mother doesn’t mean—”

  “Be quiet, Frank. I do mean it. Gemma has been nothing but a disappointment to us.”

  Gemma froze, vaguely aware of Tate’s low curse. Just when she thought they couldn’t do anything more to hurt her… She’d known she was a disappointment to them, but hearing it out loud like this…

  As painful as it was, she wouldn’t let them know just how much they’d hurt her. Her chin lifted. “At least I finally know what you think of me. Please leave. I never want to see either of you again.”

  Her mother’s face didn’t relent. She spun around and made for the front door, where Tate now stood sentry. Her father looked at her with a glimpse of compassion before he scurried after his wife.

  Bitterness rose in Gemma’s throat and bubbled over. “And by the way, Nathan is doing very nicely without either of you. So am I.”

  They left then, and Gemma collapsed on the sofa. She heard Tate close the front door, then heard car doors slam and her parents drive away. By the time Tate came back into the drawing room, she could feel a reaction setting in. This was it. She’d never see them again. The ties were finally cut.

  She should feel relief.

  She could only feel despair.

  “I shouldn’t have done that, Tate,” she mumbled, hugging her arms around herself, trying to hold the pain in so that she wouldn’t fall apart.

  Sympathy shone from his eyes. “Don’t do this to yourself, Gemma. They’ve treated you very badly.”

  She didn’t want his sympathy. “Like you’ve treated me badly?”

  His head went back.

  “They’re my parents, Tate,” she said, getting to her feet, anger bubbling up inside her. She wanted to strike out, at anyone. He would do. “I should have told them to go in the first place.”

  He remained calm. “So why didn’t you?”

  She had to stay angry. Anger would get her through this. “I was thinking of Nathan. They’re his grandparents.”

  “Pity they didn’t act like it.” He tilted his head at her. “Do you really want people like them in your son’s life?”

  “No, but it should have been my decision to ask them to go, not yours.”

  “I didn’t think you would do it.”

  She lifted her chin. “You were wrong.”

  A heartbeat passed.

  “I was proud of you, Gemma.” His voice had softened.

  Something wobbled inside her. “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not?”

  Tears weren’t far away, but she held them back. “I’ll cry. And I don’t want to cry.”

  “I’d say you’re more than entitled.”

  All at once she longed to have someone put their arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. She’d never had anyone to reassure her in such a way.

  And now her parents never would.

  Through a haze of emotion she saw Tate. He was the only person who had ever made her feel safe. She needed to recapture that feeling. “Tate, make love to me.”

  Time seemed to decelerate.

  “What?”

  “Make love to me. Please. I need you.”

  He stiffened. “Gemma—”

  The next second, she knew he would refuse. Her heart squeezed as she put on a brave face. “That’s okay, I understand.” She stepped past him, intending to rush to her room and lick her wounds. “My parents didn’t want me, so I can’t blame you for—”

  He put his hand on her arm, stopping her. “Don’t put me in the same category as them.” He tugged her gently toward him. “Do I want you?” His eyes darkened. “Oh, yeah, I want you, Gemma.”

  The last thing she saw was Tate’s head lowering, blocking out the sunlight streaming through the windows. Or was it dark because her eyelids had come down? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. The feel of his arms around her, the touch of his lips on hers, the raw emotion she’d heard in his voice—all of it cut away their surroundings. A breath caught in her throat.

  The taste of him flooded her and she shuddered in pleasure. Her hands slid up and locked behind his neck, clinging to him as she gave him kiss for kiss. She couldn’t believe she was finally in Tate’s arms, and there was no denying that he wanted her. She could feel his arousal growing, hardening against her stomach.

  His lips made their way along her jawli
ne, and she let her head fall back to give him better access. He dallied briefly at her earlobe before his kisses moved to the sensitive skin of her neck. Eyes remaining shut, she felt him place his lips against the base of her throat and hold there for a few seconds. She held still, too.

  Then his hand slid under her hair and eased her zipper down. The dress came off her shoulders with a gentle draft of air as he pushed the material down and let it descend to the carpet, leaving her in bra and panties.

  Only then did she open her eyes. His gaze traveled over her body like a whisper. “You’re even more beautiful now than before.”

  Her heart bounced. “I am?”

  “You’ve had my baby,” he said simply, but there was nothing simple about the way he brushed his fingers between her breasts to her trim stomach, making her quiver in reaction.

  Then his fingers slipped inside one cup of her bra and lifted out her breast, holding it up for his pleasure. He captured her nipple with his mouth. She took quick breaths, hearing the sound reverberate inside her throat, growing tenfold as his tongue played with the tightening bud.

  He caressed her other breast with his hands then his mouth, and soon her bra disappeared. Everything intensified. Her panties were gone. He pressed her down on the sofa and stretched her out on it. He slipped a cushion under her head, clearly concerned for her comfort, making her feel special even as the pressure built between them.

  He moved back and stood looking down at her. “God, I want to take my time with you,” he rasped, his blue eyes deepening with color.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew they had a luncheon to attend and a child to get ready, but it had been almost two long years since he’d been a part of her. And she couldn’t bear it if Nathan were to wake up right now and put a stop to this. Would they ever get back to this moment? Their emotions were high, but nothing between them had been resolved…

  “Next time,” she whispered, beckoning him to join her, vaguely thankful they were the only adults in the house.

  He proceeded to strip off his clothes. Her eyes followed every sinew revealed, every hair on his chest, the darker patch surrounding his full erection. He lowered himself down on her, but not in her. Not yet. They both knew the feel of him against her naked skin was just too much pleasure to sacrifice for the sake of time.

  But soon it wasn’t enough. He kissed her deeply, adjusting himself more fully, probing now at the top of her thighs. The air grew thick as she opened her legs. She wanted him to be a part of her. She’d missed him so much.

  And then he stopped.

  “Gemma?”

  She looked into his eyes and saw something that would have made her knees buckle, if she’d been standing. “You are not a disappointment to anyone.”

  Her heart rolled over, the breath locked in her throat. For him to take this moment to say that when he was more than ready to take her…

  “Thank you,” she whispered, grateful that no matter what had passed between them he had given her this. “And you’ve never been a substitute for anyone else,” she said, risking everything in the spirit of the moment, wanting him to remember how it had once been for them. It was important that he knew the truth.

  His eyes flared, but she didn’t give him time to speak. She held on to his shoulders and tilted her lower body up to his. “I want you, Tate.”

  He groaned. It was a sound of need, but she wasn’t sure if he would push into her or pull away. Did he need to get away from her? Or did he need her?

  As if he couldn’t stop himself, the next second he thrust between her thighs. Her heart soared and she rose to meet him. He groaned again and she knew she was what he needed, at least right now. He thrust deeper and she clung to him as he took her higher.

  “Only you,” she whispered, then she shattered around him, feeling him climax inside her.

  Tate kissed Gemma hard and quick, then moved away to gather her clothes and hand them to her. He began pulling on his own clothes, needing to keep himself busy and not look at her naked body lying there all delicious and warm from his touch. He could take her again right now.

  Easily.

  He waited until he was dressed before looking down at her again. “Are you okay?”

  She had sat up to dress, and now she gave a small smile. “Sure.”

  He searched her eyes, but she wasn’t giving anything away, and he wasn’t about to either. “We’ll leave for lunch in an hour,” he said, and left the room. He had to walk away before he was tempted to carry her upstairs and tumble her on his bed.

  He was growing hard just thinking about it. Her sexual power over him was immense. Hell, he hadn’t even given a thought to contraception. They’d deal with that later. There were already too many complications between him and Gemma.

  If he were to be truthful, their lovemaking had been about more than the sexual pull she had over him. A combination of things had been building since their marriage. First Rolly, though Tate had to admit he’d been in the wrong about the teenager. Then the pictures on the internet showing Gemma’s threadbare apartment and hinting she was a gold digger. Yesterday, the puppy and Gemma asking if they could have a dog, as if she’d accepted they were now a family.

  But all that paled in comparison to her parents’ visit. And what a piece of work they were! Learning what they had done to her, seeing how they’d treated her today, had caused a primitive anger to well up inside him. He’d gone hot with rage, then ice cold. Gemma had made him proud that she’d stood up to them.

  And him.

  And then she’d blown him away when she’d asked him to make love to her. He’d hesitated only because she’d caught him by surprise. God help him, it hadn’t been because he hadn’t wanted her. But she’d thought he was rejecting her, like her parents had rejected her. An odd pain had ripped through him then—he’d wanted to comfort her.

  You’ve never been a substitute.

  If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was telling the truth. There was no other man between them. Even now, she made him feel as if he was the only man who could do it for her, the only man to turn her on. Dammit, she’d even said so.

  I want you, Tate.

  Only you.

  But was she just good at pretending? What was he to believe? Who was he to believe? The sexy woman who’d been in his arms back there, or the woman who knew how to wind him up like a watch? He had to find the truth, and the only way to do that was to open himself up a little and let her in. She’d either prove her worth…or reveal she was merely a fake.

  Seven

  When they arrived at his parents’ place, Gemma was dismayed to find Tate’s whole family there for the lunch. She’d expected his parents, perhaps his sister, but definitely not his grandmother. Helen still lived in her own home, so it made sense that Jonathan would invite his mother. Why Gemma hadn’t expected her to be there today, she didn’t know.

  Of course, now she felt even more self-conscious about what had happened with Tate, as if the all-wise, elderly woman could actually see they had become lovers again. Considering they were married now, it would be a reasonable assumption to make anyway, but it made Gemma more than uncomfortable. What had happened between her and Tate was private.

  “So what’s happening about those pictures?” Tate’s sister asked, before anyone had a chance to say more than a few words of greeting.

  Tate’s mouth tightened as he let his mother take Nathan from him. “I’m working on it.”

  “You realize what’s out there in cyberspace stays out there forever, don’t you?”

  “Stop exaggerating, Bree,” her father said from the bar in the corner, where he was pouring drinks.

  Bree spun toward him. “I’m not exaggerating, Dad. Ask anyone.”

  “Give it a rest, sis,” Tate growled, echoing Gemma’s thoughts, and probably everyone else’s, too. It seemed as if his sister was deliberately stirring up trouble.

  Could Bree have been the one to take the pictures and put them on
the internet?

  “My, look at this little one,” Darlene said in a calming voice as she sat down with her grandson on her lap. “He’s such a little man now.” It was clear she was trying to change the subject. “He looks like Gemma, but he reminds me of you at that age, Tate.”

  The words drew Tate’s attention to his son, and his face relaxed. “Does he now?”

  “Oh, yes. You were a beautiful little boy.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Tate said. He gave her a crooked smile, but there was the usual hint of hardness as he looked at his mother. “Just what a grown man wants to hear.”

  Darlene’s eyes flickered. “There’s nothing wrong with a mother thinking her son is beautiful, no matter what his age.” She sent her daughter-in-law an encouraging smile. “Isn’t that right, Gemma?”

  No matter what was going on between mother and son, at least Darlene wasn’t holding anything against her. Gemma was grateful for the other woman’s support. “I couldn’t agree more, Darlene. Our sons will always be beautiful to us.”

  “Yeah, but thinking it and saying it out loud are two different things,” Tate drawled, giving Gemma a hooded look that made her acutely aware of everything that had happened between them back in their drawing room. His male possession had been totally consuming and irreversibly branding. At one time, she would have reveled in it. Right now all she wanted to do was get those perceptive eyes off her. Would he think she was putty in his hands now, not just physically but in every other way? No, that wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.

  “Er…what was Tate like as a child?” she asked, dragging her gaze back to her mother-in-law.

  Darlene beamed. “Oh, he was—”

  “Best to ask Jonathan that question,” Tate’s grandmother interrupted her, speaking for the first time and not in a friendly tone. “I’d say he knows his son better than anyone.”

  The animation left Darlene’s face and suddenly there was awkwardness in the air. It was as if Helen had been trying to make a point at her daughter-in-law’s expense.

  Then Jonathan came toward them carrying drinks. “No, I’ll let Darlene answer that one, Mother.” He smiled lovingly at his wife. “Go on, sweetheart.”