by Sandra Brown
"Yes, we're having a baby," Taylor said, placing his arm around Ria's shoulders and pulling her close. "And we're delighted."
"Come now, Councilman. You've just been elected mayor. Did your hasty marriage to Mrs. MacKensie have anything to do with the fact that she's pregnant with your child and that your constituents might frown on that kind of behavior from a public official?"
"I don't want to see anything in print that even hints at that."
"Because it might be damaging to your career?"
"No, because it might be damaging to yours." Taylor's voice was barely above a whisper, but it was potent with unspoken threats. "If you write a single slanderous word about Ria, I'll sue you and your newspaper for every cent you've got."
Ria focused on the reporter's impatiently tapping pencil. The tempo was almost hypnotic. "I married Taylor because I love him." The pencil ceased its tapping. From the corner of her eye, Ria saw Taylor look down at her with astonishment. For a moment they all sat as though petrified. Ria broke the silence by saying, "Delia, your glass is empty. Would you like another drink?"
"Why'd you say that?"
"What?" Ria asked nonchalantly. The Corvette's windows were rolled down. She was enjoying the feel of an early-spring wind blowing against her face and through her hair.
"Why'd you tell her that our marriage was a love match?"
Ria looked at her husband. "To save you from a fire-breathing dragon named Delia. Or vice versa. You looked ready to throttle her."
"I was."
"I couldn't let that happen. Ms. Starr would have loved writing down every abusive quote and printing each one in the Sunday paper. I shudder to think of the expletives she'd have had to delete. You've got me to thank for saving your image, Mayor MacKensie."
"Feeling smug, are you?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
He turned into a city park. They had decided to take out their cheeseburgers rather than suffer the invasion of a Little League baseball team in the fast-food restaurant.
"Yep, you should. In fact, you should be congratulated for your diplomacy. 'Delia, your glass is empty.' That pencil-wielding bitch was eating out of your hand by the time she left." He cut the motor and gave Ria a sidelong glance. "Not to mention that hot-for-your-bod photographer."
"I don't know what you mean." Ria opened her door and stepped out, taking the packaged food with her.
"Like hell." Taylor slammed his car door. "'Your cheekbones were made for a camera, Ria, love.'"
"That's not what he said. He said, 'Your high cheekbones were made for a camera, Ria, love.'"
"Oh, forgive me," Taylor said wryly. "Which one's mine?
"Double cheese? Here," she said, passing him the cheeseburger.
"Why didn't you get double cheese? I don't want a scrawny kid."
"You won't get one. I promise. Baby and I will blossom one of these days soon. We'll eat you out of house and home. In the meantime the doctor said it's normal to drop a few pounds."
He gave her a critical once-over. "You're too skinny."
"The photographer seemed to think I was plump in all the right places," she said, winking saucily.
Taylor threw a french fry at her. "You didn't fall for all that smooth talk, did you?"
"I thought he was sincere." She batted her eyes innocently.
Taylor shook his head. "He was hitting on you."
"You recognize the moves, I guess."
"Modesty prevents me from bragging," he said, grinning arrogantly. Then he frowned. "He was a strutting peacock with an old line, and his jeans were too tight."
"You wear yours just as tight."
"You noticed?" he asked, holding a french fry poised and ready to be devoured.
"I noticed."
"You like?"
"I like," she confessed softly.
His strong white teeth bit cleanly into the french fry. It reminded Ria of that fortuitous bite of Christmas turkey he had eaten from her fingers. She had to swallow hard to get her bite of cheeseburger down.
"What about you and Delia?" she asked as she munched. "She got awfully sweet after the two of you met on a plane of mutual antagonism. You were real chummy-chummy by the time she left. What was so interesting out by the mailbox when you walked her to her car? It certainly took a long time to say thank you and good-bye."
"Oh, that. Well, I thought, give the broad a break and let her ask one personal question."
"Did she?"
"Yes. She asked me if we engaged in oral sex."
Ria sputtered vanilla milk shake all over her face and his. "Taylor!"
Laughing, he wiped her face clean with a paper napkin.
Ria stared into her shake as she stirred it with the plastic straw. Her cheeks were pink, and it wasn't from being wind-chapped by riding with the windows down.
They finished eating. He was stuffing their trash into the sack when he said, "Back to my original question: Why'd you tell her that we'd married for love?"
"I didn't tell her that we had. I told her that I had."
"You're evading the question."
"I had to say something to blunt her fangs," she cried. "That seemed the most expedient thing to say. It worked, didn't it?"
"And that's the only reason you said it?"
"Of course." She couldn't look directly at him.
"It just kinda rolled off your tongue, spur-of-the-moment-like, huh?"
"Yes."
"It didn't have any basis in truth whatsoever?"
"None. If we had loved each other, it wouldn't have taken the baby to bring us back together, would it?"
Evening had fallen. The dusk was quiet and still. They didn't realize how quiet and still until they shared that long, silent stare.
Finally Taylor said, "I didn't call you because I knew you were already involved."
"I didn't ask."
"But I wanted to tell you." He yanked a new leaf off the nearest tree and shredded it. "You didn't call me either."
"I haven't made a habit of calling men for dates. That's another of my old-fashioned idiosyncrasies."
"It's perfectly acceptable these days for the woman to make the first move."
"It's not perfectly acceptable to me. That kind of aggressiveness seems masculine."
"You couldn't be masculine no matter how hard you tried."
"Well, even if I had wanted to call you, I wouldn't have."
"Why?"
"Your involvement with Lisa. You hardly made a secret of it on Christmas Eve. In fact, you told me more than I wanted to know." Ria raised her voice in spite of her best intentions to keep this discussion from becoming an argument.
"Why does Lisa always enter into it?"
"Because the only reason you were alone at the Grahams' was that she was out of town. Obviously the two of you were in the midst of a hot and heavy affair."
He thrust his face close to hers. "That didn't stop you from sleeping with me, did it?"
She recoiled, then attacked. Taylor was spoiling for a fight, and he was going to get one. "And sleeping with me didn't keep you from sneaking out the next morning."
"I didn't sneak."
"Ha!" She flung back her windblown hair. "I woke up to find you tiptoeing across my living-room floor, half your clothes and your shoes in hand. Doesn't that sound like sneaking to you?"
"You didn't exactly twist my arm to stay."
"I would have died first. Any man who sneaks out—"
"I didn't sneak!" he repeated, shouting. "I was only being considerate."
"Or cowardly."
"I didn't want to wake you up early on a holiday, when you could sleep in."
"As though I could sleep late after being cramped up on that couch with you all night. Every muscle in my body was sore."
"That wasn't from sleeping," he said, sneering. "That was from the vigorous way you made love."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You didn't seem to mind the way I made love then."
"I didn't. But at least I've
got enough guts to admit it."
"I've never denied enjoying Christmas Eve."
He pointed a finger at her. "Just a second ago you denied that you enjoyed sleeping together like a couple of wolf cubs under that fur coat. At the very least you gave a damn good impression of enjoying it. Every time I tried to move away, you whimpered."
"Whimpered? I've never whimpered in my life."
"Oh, no? I'll record us making love one night and play it back to you."
"We won't be making love anymore," she announced dogmatically. "I know I agreed to sleep with you as long as the marriage lasts, but I don't think it's a good idea. And since we don't seem to be able to live together without sleeping together, I think I should move back home."
He threw up his hands. They landed against his thighs with a loud slap. "Oh, great. That's just great. Terrific. As usual, your timing is perfect," he said sarcastically. "No sooner does the article about our marital bliss get published, than the bride skedaddles."
"Bad publicity?"
"You got it."
"That's what has worried you from the very beginning, isn't it? That's why you married me. So your precious mayoral seat wouldn't be jeopardized." She shot him a poisonous look and stalked toward the car.
They sped home in hostile silence. When they arrived, Ria slammed her way through the house. But before she made it to the bedroom door, he caught her shirttail and pulled her up short.
"Let me go, Taylor."
"Uh-uh. Not until we've had this out."
"We've had it out."
"You're reneging on our deal. We agreed to live together as husband and wife … in every respect."
"Okay, so I'm not holding up my end of the bargain. No one will know."
"I sure as hell will!"
"You wouldn't if you didn't go around in a perpetual state of arousal."
He backed her into the wall and held her there with his body. His mouth ground a hard, passionate kiss onto hers. When he raised his head he rasped out, "I'm not always horny. Only when I look at you."
She whimpered.
"What do you do to me? Cast a spell?" Ria, sprawled across him, was indolently combing her fingers through his chest hair.
"Whatever it is, we do it to each other."
"You make me lose control."
"It's a damned good thing. I couldn't have held out much longer. I was ready to explode."
Bashfully she rolled her face inward, burying it in the hollow in his rib cage. "You know what I meant."
"Yes, I know." He sighed softly, strumming her spine with his fingertips. "Ria, why did you resign your position at Bishop and Harvey? Did they ask you to?"
"No."
"Urge you to?"
She told him about the problem that the contract for the Community Arts Center had raised. "I didn't want to cost the company the contract. And I certainly couldn't let you be accused of conflict of interest. That would be an albatross around your neck for the length of your term as mayor."
"But what about your career? You've worked so hard to get where you are."
She propped her chin on his sternum. "I wasn't lying when I told Delia Starr that I had thought about setting up my own firm for some time."
"You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
"No. I like my job, but I was tired of the intraoffice jealousy, the politics, the infernal grapevine."
"Which we can blame for revealing our secret about the baby. Not that it matters. It would have come out sooner or later."
"Yes, but I thought it would be later. Ideally, after you're sworn in. Delia must have interviewed Guy. I'm sure he told her I was pregnant, to embarrass us."
"Out of spite?"
"Probably. He isn't a very good loser."
"I can't feel sorry for him," Taylor said. "If he'd been all that hot, you wouldn't have gone to bed with me."
"I could say the same for Lisa."
"Before we get into another argument—and frankly, an argument with you plumb wears me out, because it's usually resolved in bed—let's go back to the original subject. Where do you intend to work?"
"At my house. While it's just sitting there unused, I can set myself up in the living room until I find an office for lease. It might be difficult in the beginning, but I believe in myself and my talent. I also believe in Mrs. Graham's word-of-mouth advertising. She's got a lot of friends who are jealous of her new house."
"Starting a new business the same year you're having a baby. Whew! You're a glutton for punishment." He kissed her forehead. "But I believe in you, too, and I'll be willing to help any way I can."
"Thank you, Taylor. I knew you'd be supportive."
"It looks like you've got your career plans all sorted out." He smoothed his hands over her derriere. "What about the other?"
"What other?"
His fingers slipped between her thighs. "About moving out."
"Oh, that." She gazed up at him dreamily. "I'm here, aren't I?"
For Ria, the lovemaking that followed was bittersweet. In the strictest sense of the word, she made love to him. But she knew that it was one-sided. The child she carried was the only thing that truly bound her to him.
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
« ^ »
Ria let the telephone ring ten times before she finally reached across the bed and answered it.
"Ria, glad I caught you. I was worried."
"Hello, Taylor."
"What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"You went home from work in the middle of the day."
"How did you know I was here?"
"I called your office and they said you'd left for the day. What's up?"
"I just didn't feel like working."
"Why? Ria? Answer me. Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing." She replaced the telephone receiver.
Ten minutes later she heard his car pulling into the driveway. He came barging through the bedroom door, calling her name. For a few seconds he braced himself in the opening, a hand on either side of the jamb. His hair had either been windblown or finger-plowed. He had taken off his suit jacket on the way home or left it behind at his office. Ria hadn't seen him so disheveled since the night she had told him he must marry her.
"What's the matter?" He rushed toward the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. His eyes anxiously ranged over her.
"Probably nothing." She tried to smile, but the valiant attempt failed.
"Just a few minutes ago it was 'nothing.' Now it's 'probably nothing.' Which is it? Did you get sick at work?"
Hot, salty tears stung her eyes. She couldn't deal with her own misery and his at the same time, so she turned her face into the pillow. "I started spotting."
Taylor became as still as a buck who scents hunters. Ria couldn't even hear him breathing. Finally he asked hoarsely, "Did you call the doctor?"
"Immediately. He told me to go home to bed. That's what I did."
"That's it? That's all he said? What about medicine?"
"Taylor, there is no medicine for this. No medicine that's been proven to work."
"Dammit, there's gotta be something the doctor can do."
"There is. He's waiting it out, just like I am."
Taylor stood up. Ria remained lying on her side and kept her eyes closed, irrationally afraid that the slightest movement would upset some precarious cosmic balance and she would lose her baby. Taylor paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, casting worried glances down at her.
"I don't know much about this," he said awkwardly. "Exactly what does it mean?"
"It can mean nothing, such as a blood vessel bursting because of increased pressure." She drew a deep breath. "Or it can indicate bleeding from the uterus." If she had seen how drastically Taylor's face paled, she might have stopped there. "Or the placenta might be trying to detach itself."
He swallowed hard. "For the time being the only precaution you can take is to stay in bed?"
"Yes
, until the bleeding stops."
"Bleeding? I thought you said spotting."
She rolled over and looked up at him querulously. "What's the difference?"
He sat down beside her again and touched her cheek conciliatorily. "Nothing, I guess. It's just that spotting doesn't sound as bad."
Her lower lip began to tremble, and the tears spilled over her eyelids. "Taylor, I'm scared."
"God, me too. Me too." He clasped her in a bear hug and held on dearly, pressing her face into the notch of his shoulder. "But I'm sure everything will be all right. How often does this happen? All the time, right? Isn't this a fairly common thing? Now that I think about it, it seems to me my stepmother had some difficulty like this with her firstborn, and he's a robust little boy. He runs them ragged now," he said with a forced chuckle.
"The doctor assured me that it's common," Ria said faintly. "There's no reason for alarm unless it gets worse."
"See?" Taylor gently wiped the tears off her cheeks. "Baby just wants that quack to earn the premium fee he's charging to get him here."
She laughed, knowing that he was joking to make her feel better, and hoping that her obligatory laughter would make him feel better. Neither of them was going to feel better until she and the child she carried were completely out of danger.
"Can I get you something? Did you eat lunch?"
She shook her head. "I didn't, but I don't want anything."
"Let me help you out of your clothes."
Her suit was hopelessly wrinkled, but she had just now noticed it. "I didn't even take the time to change. The doctor said to get into bed, and I got."
Taylor helped her undress. When she was down to her underwear, she excused herself and went into the bathroom. While she was behind that closed door, Taylor paced the nap of the carpet down another fraction of an inch. When Ria emerged wrapped in a light cotton robe, she was pale and trembling. Her eyes had lost their green fire and looked as bleak as cold ashes. Her mouth was bruised, as though she'd been biting her lower lip.
"Still?" he asked roughly.
She nodded.
"No better?"
"No worse."
"Lie back down." He assisted her onto the bed. Her black hair fanned out beneath her head like an inkblot against the white pillowcase. She closed her eyes. Her mascara was smudged. Her lips looked blotched and swollen. There was no bloom in her cheeks. But to Taylor she'd never been more beautiful.