by Linda Turner
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to have any feelings for Summer except gratitude. But damn it, how was he supposed to resist her? he wondered as he watched her lean down to press a kiss to Alyssa’s baby-soft cheek. She was so wonderful with the baby. She might not have had a child herself, but she was a natural mother, gentle and loving and incredibly patient. And she was everything that a man could ask for in a wife. Giving, hardworking, loyal, passionate.
Dear God, she was passionate! With just a touch, a kiss, a sigh, she could make the blood pound in his veins. And when she gave herself to him without inhibitions, he was helpless to resist her. His heart slammed against his ribs, his body turned hard as a rock—
Suddenly realizing where his thoughts had wandered—and right in the middle of the Hip Hop, damn it!—he stiffened, cursing under his breath as he jerked open the menu Janie had set in front of him. He was losing his mind, he thought furiously. He had to be. Why else would he be practically salivating over the woman right there in front of half the town?
At his low growl of disgust, Summer glanced up from her menu and blinked in surprise at the sight of the scowl wrinkling his brow. “What’s wrong? Don’t you see anything you like?”
That was the problem, he thought with a groan. He saw something he liked, all right, but he couldn’t tell her that. Not when she’d done so much for him already. Twice, she’d come to his rescue—first, when she’d convinced her uncle to hire Elizabeth to represent him, then again, when she’d married him to improve his standing in the eyes of the community and the jury when he went to trial. If he told her how he felt about her now, that would only put pressure on her to stay with him after the year they’d agreed to was up, and that wouldn’t be fair. They had an agreement, and the least he could do was honor it.
So he kept his feelings to himself and said stiffly, “It’s nothing. I guess I’m just not that hungry.”
“The flu’s been going around,” she said with a frown of concern. “Have you got a fever?”
She started to reach across the table to feel his forehead, only to have his fingers close around her wrist lightning-fast. “I’m fine,” he said tersely and almost swore again when her eyes widened in surprise. Damn it, this wasn’t the way he’d intended for things to go!
Feeling like a heel, he let out his breath in a huff. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be testy. I guess I’m more tired than I realized. It’s been a long week.”
“Then why don’t we just do this another time?” she suggested. “We can go back to the house and order a pizza.”
And once again, they would be alone, he thought, and immediately shook his head. “No, we’re already here. We might as well stay. What do you think we should order for Alyssa?”
After that, Gavin tried to keep the conversation—and his thoughts—strictly impersonal. But she shared the same passion for medicine that he did, and they were soon discussing the clinic and the patients he’d treated that afternoon. Summer knew them all, of course, and spoke of them all fondly, as if they were family, and once again, he found himself bowled over by the lady. The medical field was filled with caring people, but he didn’t know anyone who gave so unselfishly of her time and money and heart as Summer. And she didn’t seem to have a clue how special she was.
He wanted to tell her—the words were right there on his tongue—but he bit them back before they could escape. And in growing desperation, he changed the subject to something he still wasn’t sure he believed in—the ancient healing she had learned at the knee of Grandmother Gray Eagle.
But here, too, she fascinated him. Knowing full well that he was a skeptic, she wasn’t the least offended. “Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, but I witnessed firsthand many of the healings performed by Grandmother. She learned them from her grandmother, and she from her grandmother before her. And they knew what they were doing, Gavin.”
She told him how the tribal healers of their ancestors ground up the bark of wild cherry trees to make cough syrup and how they extracted an aspirinlike acid from willow trees to treat the aches and pains of their tribesmen. And that was just a few of the examples she gave him. As their food arrived and they fed Alyssa, then ate themselves, she told him one story after another about their tribal history and the men and women who helped the tribe through epidemics and disasters, childbirth and death.
Captivated, Gavin could have sat there all night and listened to her. All around them, people were still talking about the surprising truce between Jordan Baxter and Garrett Kincaid, but all he heard was the soft, musical tone of Summer’s voice. Then Alyssa decided she’d had enough fun for one night, and he and Summer were both jerked back to their surroundings.
“Uh-oh,” Summer chuckled when the baby rubbed her eyes and began to whine. “Looks like somebody’s ready to go to bed.”
“No wonder,” Gavin exclaimed, glancing at his watch. “It’s nearly nine o’clock!”
He didn’t have to ask where the time went, they both knew. They’d been so wrapped up in their conversation—and each other—that a team of storm troopers could have marched through the café and they never would have noticed. Suddenly feeling awkward and not quite able to look each other in the eye, they made preparations to leave.
“I’ll get the baby.”
“I’ll pay the bill.”
Five minutes later, flushed and loaded down with coats, Alyssa, and all the paraphernalia that went with a baby, they hurried out to the car and drove home without saying a word. And all the while, their hearts pounded in unison in the dark silence that surrounded them.
Confused, Summer wanted to ask what was wrong, but Gavin’s stony expression didn’t encourage conversation. And that was probably for the best, she told herself as they reached the house and she carried a now sleeping Alyssa upstairs to bed. When she talked about the clinic and Grandmother Gray Eagle and taking care of the people she loved so much, she gave away far too much of herself.
She couldn’t keep doing that, she told herself as she carefully undressed Alyssa and eased her into her pajamas. She’d already given him far too much—her innocence, her heart. She wouldn’t give her soul, too. She had to find a way to put some distance between them.
But how was she supposed to do that when she was sleeping with the man? Time and again, she swore she wasn’t going to give in to the need he stirred in her by just breathing. But then in the dark of the night, when her defenses were down and he was as close as her dreams, she found herself in his arms.
Not this time, she promised herself as she left Alyssa asleep in her bed and went to her and Gavin’s room to change. She’d wear her old maid flannel gown and socks and be sound asleep on her side of the bed by the time Gavin came upstairs. Tonight, her body would not betray her while she was sleeping!
She had it all worked out—or so she thought. But she hadn’t counted on a need that was stronger than every survival instinct she possessed. Even though she fell asleep almost immediately, she somehow unconsciously knew the second he slipped into bed with her. Dreaming, she murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and shifted restlessly under the covers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, alarm bells clanged, but she never heard them. Aching for his touch, his kiss, even in her sleep, she felt the inexorable pull of his presence at her side. Dreamily, she half rolled toward him and in the next instant was gently wrapped in his arms.
Taking in the scent of him, she sighed in contentment. He always smelled so wonderful. Clean and fresh and spicy. Unable to resist, she nuzzled close and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck. It was the low sound of his groan that brought her fully awake.
Startled, her eyes flew open and she found herself snuggled close against the hard angles and planes of his body. If she’d been more alert, she would have immediately apologized and jumped from the bed with the excuse that she wasn’t sleepy after all and was going to read for a while. But her blood was already hot, her body humming. And without quite k
nowing who moved first, they were suddenly kissing as if there were no tomorrow.
“Gavin—”
“I know, honey,” he murmured when he swept his hands under her gown and caressed her naked back and hips. “Let’s get rid of this gown. You don’t need it anymore. I’ll keep you warm.”
He did that, all right. With just the slow glide of his hands, he made her burn.
But it was his tenderness that completely undid her. With a touch that was as soft as a feather, he stroked her breasts, her thighs, the curve of her belly, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. Over and over again, he caressed her, murmuring his need for her, until he was all that she heard in the darkness, all that she felt, and every thought began and ended with the ache he stirred in her very bones.
Seduced by the dark velvet tones of his voice in the night, she couldn’t think, couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t do this. She loved him more than she’d ever thought it was possible to love anyone, and suddenly, the words just bubbled up inside her like a fountain. Kissing him softly, hungrily, she whispered, “I love you.”
She barely spoke above a whisper, but in the heated quiet of the bedroom, there was no question that he heard her. Gavin stiffened, and Summer found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to say that he loved her, too. But in the sudden, tense stillness that enveloped them, the only sound was the frantic beating of her own heart. Gavin didn’t say a word.
Eleven
She’d never been so mortified in her life.
Hot color surging into her cheeks, Summer wanted to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung there between them, throbbing like a neon light in the dark, impossible to ignore.
Pain lancing her heart, she called herself seven kinds of a fool. Idiot! Of course he didn’t love her. That wasn’t part of their deal. They had a business arrangement. Business, she told herself fiercely, swallowing a sob. Just business. How many times did she have to tell herself that before she got it through her thick head that what they had wasn’t going to turn into some kind of fairy-tale romance? It was just sex.
She winced at that, but there was no denying the obvious. He didn’t love her. He’d never claimed to. But he didn’t have to love her to want her. He was a man, and he had certain needs. If she continued to persist in hoping that his feelings would grow into something deeper than that, she was only going to end up getting hurt more.
“Summer—”
His voice was rough in the darkness, and apologetic. And that only increased her embarrassment. Wishing she could just crawl into a hole somewhere and die, she said quickly, “It’s okay, Gavin. I was just caught up in the heat of the moment. Forget I said anything.”
To his credit, he didn’t want to let the subject die there. “We need to talk—”
“That’s not necessary,” she replied stiffly, pulling out of his arms. He’d said too much already without saying a word. “It’s late and I’m tired. You must be, too, so let’s just say good-night and go to sleep.” And not giving him a chance to argue, she rolled over onto her side of the bed and turned her back on him.
Her heart thundering, she could almost feel his frustration as he lay beside her, but he didn’t, thankfully, force the issue. She didn’t think she would have been able to bear it if he had. Instead, he turned his back on her, just as she’d done him, and pretended she didn’t exist.
Later, Summer couldn’t have said how long they lay just that way, stiff as a couple of boards, without moving so much as a muscle. It seemed like an eternity. More than once, she wanted to melt, to turn and try to make peace. But what, after all, was there left to be said? He couldn’t help it that he didn’t love her. He married her because she was a Kincaid and could help him clear his name. He enjoyed her company and made no secret of the fact that he desired her, but that was all there was to it, all there was ever going to be to it. All the talking in the world wasn’t going to change that.
Her heart bruised and aching, she knew she should get out of the marriage now, before the hurt completely destroyed her. But she loved him so much, she couldn’t imagine going back to the dull existence she’d had before they’d decided to marry to improve his image. And deep down inside, she couldn’t help but think that he would grow to love her as much as she loved him. All she had to do was stay close and give him a little time.
As far as hope went, it wasn’t much, but it was all she had. Beside her, she felt Gavin relax. Long minutes later, he softly started to snore. He didn’t reach for her and she didn’t dare turn to face him, but if this was all she could have of him, she told herself, it would be enough.
Exhausted, she fought sleep and stared wide-eyed at the darkness, afraid that if she dropped her guard, even for sleep, she’d wind up in his arms. She was, however, fighting a battle she couldn’t win. Exhaustion stealing up on her in the dark, she sighed and felt the tension that gripped her ease. Moments later she, too, was asleep, and never knew when her body sought the warmth and comfort of his.
In the weeks that followed their night out at the Hip Hop, Summer tried to convince herself she had her life—and her emotions—under control again. And on the surface, it appeared that she did. Her days were comprised of work and Alyssa, and she made sure there was no time for anything personal with Gavin. There was no more talk of love, no more lovemaking, and if she gave herself away in the dead of night, when she sought his closeness in her sleep, she didn’t speak of it and neither did he.
It was the kind of existence she’d imagined would develop between them when she’d first suggested that they get married, and she should have been pleased. But there was a hollowness inside her, an emptiness that ate at her, and as the days passed, she found it more and more difficult to keep a smile on her face and pretend that everything was perfect.
If Gavin noticed, he didn’t say anything. But her aunts and cousins knew her better than most, and it was harder to hide things from them. When her aunt Celeste ran into her at the grocery store, she took one look at her and immediately hugged her. “What’s wrong?”
It had been a hard day, one that had started out wrong when she woke to find herself lying in Gavin’s arms. She’d quickly pulled free before she woke him, but denying herself his closeness did little good. She’d still spent the rest of the day aching for his touch.
That, however, was something she had no intention of discussing with her aunt, so she forced a smile and used work as an excuse for her melancholy. “It’s nothing. I’m just worried about one of my patients. So, how’re the girls? And Aunt Yvette and Uncle Edward? I’ve been meaning to stop by and see all of you, but I’ve just been so busy that I can’t ever seem to find the time.”
She saw by the look in her aunt’s sharp eyes that she hadn’t fooled her in the least, but Celeste took the hint and didn’t push…well, not that much, anyway. “We’re all fine,” she replied. “I’m sorry about your patient. It must be someone you’re really close to. When I first saw you, you looked like you’d lost your best friend. You haven’t, have you?”
That was exactly how she felt. “No, of course not,” she fibbed. “I’m fine. Really.”
But she wasn’t, and she didn’t know if she ever would be again. As she talked with her aunt and caught up on all the family news, all she could think of was the mess she’d made of her and Gavin’s arrangement. If she’d just protected her heart, everything would have been fine. But she hadn’t, damn it, and with every passing day, she fell more in love with Gavin. And it was killing her. Living with him, sleeping with him, loving him and Alyssa—they’d both become so special to her in such a short time. How was she ever going to be able to walk away from them at the end of a year? Leaving them would destroy her.
The question nagged at her for days, eating at her until it was all she could do not to cry whenever she thought of Alyssa growing up without a mother and Gavin spending the rest of his life alone. It didn’t have to be that way. They could forget the terms of their agreement and
let things just continue as they were.
And then what? a caustic voice in her head retorted. You end up spending years, possibly the rest of your life, with a man who doesn’t love you? Is that your idea of happily ever after?
She tried to tell herself that it wouldn’t be that way, that he would grow to love her with time. But how much time did he need? Weeks? Months? There were no guarantees in life. She could give him that, and more, and he might still never come close to loving her the way she loved him. Would that be enough for her?
Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer was no. But it wasn’t until the invitation to Jordan Baxter and Meg Reilly’s wedding arrived at the house one afternoon while Gavin was working at the clinic that she accepted the fact that she had no choice but to end her marriage. Her intentions had been good, but that old line “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” was true, and right now, she felt as if she was, if not in hell, then certainly in purgatory. And all because she’d married Gavin for the wrong reasons. Marriage was supposed to be about love and commitment—the kind Jordan and Meg had—not deals or business or saving someone’s reputation. She’d thought she was helping Gavin, but in the end, she’d only made a mess of things, and she couldn’t go on as they were. It just hurt too much.
The decision made, there was nothing left to do but tell him. All the rest of the afternoon, she rehearsed in her mind how she was going to do it, but nothing seemed to work. How did you tell a man you’d changed your mind and didn’t want to be married to him, after all? What excuse could she give? She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth—because she loved him and she needed a husband who felt the same way about her. She’d already told him she loved him once. She wouldn’t do it again.