The Tender Trap

by Beverly Barton

  “This insecurity isn’t like you,” Joy said. “You’re one of the most self-confident people I’ve ever known. Something’s wrong here. Confess. What is it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do. You’ve gone and fallen in love with Adam Wyatt. That display of possessiveness out there wasn’t for show.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m not crazy. But you are in love.”

  “I am not. I can’t be. It has to be something else. I’m pregnant and my hormones are all screwed up. That’s got to be it.” Blythe turned on the lavatory faucets, caught a double handful of water and splashed it in her face. “I’ll have to redo my makeup before I go back out there. Would you mind finding Adam and letting him know I’m all right?”

  Sighing, Joy nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll go talk to your husband.”

  Adam had decided that he’d never be able to figure out women in general and Blythe in particular. Joy had explained Blythe’s tearful outburst as nothing more than pregnancy hormones, and he had no choice but to agree, especially when Blythe returned to the reception with a smile on her face. She’d wooed and won his friends and associates with her intelligence and charm. He’d been so proud of her he could have burst, and his male ego had been inflated by her rather primitive display of possessiveness.

  In the back of his mind, he’d thought that tonight just might be the night his celibate marriage would end. After all, not having sex had been Blythe’s idea, not his.

  But the moment they were alone in his Lotus, all his dreams of bliss had been destroyed by five little words—Why did you invite her?

  After ten minutes of trying to convince Blythe that Angela had either crashed the party or had come with someone who had received an invitation, he’d given up. They had driven home in silence—a heavy, dark silence that seemed endless. But he was smart enough to know when to shut up, to realize when arguing was useless. He had, without a doubt, married the most stubborn woman on the face of the earth. And the most jealous.

  The minute he parked the Lotus, Blythe jumped out of the car and fled into the house. Adam took his time getting out. Cursing under his breath, he deliberated whether or not he should turn around and drive back into Decatur and spend the night at his condo. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked through the front door. Would Blythe continue giving him the silent treatment or would she blast him with false accusations again?

  Hell, he couldn’t run away. He had agreed to this fake marriage for the duration of Blythe’s pregnancy and recovery period. No matter what, he had to uphold his end of the bargain and see this thing through to the end.

  When he entered the living room, he found it empty. She must have gone straight to her bedroom. Adam took off his tuxedo jacket, removed his black bow tie and undid the buttons on his white shirt. He walked down the hall toward his own room, but when he passed Blythe’s room, she stepped out into the hall.

  Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “I believe you if you say you didn’t invite her.” Blythe turned sharply, went back into her room and closed the door with a resounding wham.

  “I’ll be damned.” Adam laughed. Women were a mystery to him, and his own spitfire of a wife was the biggest puzzle of them all.

  He grabbed the doorknob to her bedroom door, intending to march right in, then thought better of the idea and knocked loudly:

  “What?” she asked through the closed door.

  “May I come in?”

  “It’s late, and I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Blythe, if you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you about Angela.”

  Silence. Utter, absolute silence.

  “Blythe?”

  The door swung open and there she stood, her back ramrod straight, her hazel eyes ablaze and her soft little jaw tightly clamped.

  Adam stepped over the threshold, walked up to Blythe and smiled at her. She quivered ever so slightly. Reaching out, he caressed her cheek with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

  “I dated Angela for a few months,” he said. “We had a brief affair, and—”

  “Oh.” Blythe’s eyes flew open. She moved backward, trying to escape Adam’s caressing fingers.

  He clasped her neck gently, pulling her closer—so close his breath mingled with hers. She shivered. “Angela wanted me for my money. Plain and simple. And I made it perfectly clear from the very beginning that I wasn’t interested in a permanent relationship, most certainly not marriage.”

  “Were you still dating her the night you and I...the night we—”

  “The night we made love. The night you gave me your virginity. The night I gave you my child.”

  Dropping her chin, Blythe lowered her eyes to the carpeted floor. “Yes, that night. Were you still dating her?”

  “I had decided to end things with her before Missy’s christening, but I didn’t officially break things off until after the night we were together.”

  “Did you see her again during those two months before I told you I was pregnant?”

  “Yes, I saw her again.” Adam gripped Blythe’s chin and lifted her face. “To officially end our affair.”

  “She thinks she has some sort of claim on you.”

  “You’re the only woman who has any kind of claim on me.”

  Blythe laid her hand over her belly. “This child is my only claim on you.”

  He took her into his arms—his wife, the mother of his child—lifted her off her feet and kissed her lips with tenderness. While she was still swaying from the sweet gentle passion of his kiss, Adam scooped her up into his arms, carried her to her bed and sat down, settling her on his lap.

  “During those two months after you spent the night at my condo, I dated a dozen different women,” Adam admitted.

  Blythe squirmed on his lap, averting her gaze so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “I figured as much.”

  “Did you figure that I’d date a dozen different lovely and very willing women and not have sex with any of them?”

  Blythe sat up very straight and stared at Adam, her full pink mouth opening into a slanted oval as she sucked in her breath. “I—I... You didn’t? But why?”

  “The hell if I know,” Adam said. “Maybe some fiery little redheaded virgin ruined me for other women.”

  “You’re kidding me?” Blythe smiled, then giggled.

  “What’s so damned funny?” he asked.

  “I was that good, huh? And to think, I didn’t have the vaguest idea what I was doing. I just acted on instinct.” She draped her arm around his neck.

  Grinning, Adam tossed them both backward onto the bed. They landed with a bounce. “You knocked me for a loop, babe. Just think how remarkable you’d be with a little practice.”

  “Hey, buster, just hold on one minute.” She shoved against his chest, but he trapped her hands between them when he pulled her body up against his.

  He nuzzled her nose. “Why don’t you admit that you enjoyed our night together as much as I did?”

  “I’ve never denied that I enjoyed being... having... doing... Oh, shoot, you know what I’m trying to say.”

  He eased her lace cardigan off her shoulders and kissed the freckles spread across her taut skin like bronze glitter on ivory parchment. “No, Blythe, why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say. Put your feelings into words. Take a chance. Make a giant confession the way I did.”

  “What sort of giant confession did you make?” She moaned when he slid his hand up her leg and caressed her thigh.

  “I haven’t been with another woman since the night I made love to you.” Rising over her, Adam braced his big body with his arms placed on each side of her, then he lowered his head and covered her mouth, thrusting his tongue between her sigh-parted lips.

  At first she merely accepted his kiss, totally consumed by Adam’s masterful domination. But when her body came alive, tingling
with sexual urgency, she returned the kiss. Within minutes, the same wild, raw hunger that had driven them to the very edge of sanity the first time they’d made love surged through them with blinding force.

  Breathless, Adam released her lips and groaned. “I want you so much. Every time I look at you, I want to rip off your clothes and take you. Do you have any idea how I’ve fantasized about lifting you onto the kitchen table during breakfast and taking you right then and there?”

  Blythe felt as if her breath was trapped in her lungs. Her chest ached. Her throat tightened. Her body throbbed with a powerful need to have this man inside her.

  “Please, don’t do this to me. Don’t make me want you when we both know we don’t have a future together.”

  “Dammit, Blythe, why can’t you just be honest and admit that we’re good together? Hell, we’re great together. We set the sheets on fire the night we made love.” Lowering his body, he pressed himself against her, rubbing his hardness against her feminine mound. “You’re my wife. I want you.”

  She tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’m not really your wife, Adam, and we both know it. We have a business agreement. Nothing more.”

  “Oh, we have a lot more than a business agreement, and you damn well know it.” He rose up and rolled off her, then sat on the edge of her bed. “Tonight at the reception, I thought I was finally getting a glimpse of the real Blythe Eiliott—the real woman. The woman who staked a claim on her man. That strong, possessive woman wouldn’t run seared.”

  Blythe’s chest rose and fell with her labored breathing. She lay flat on her back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Why don’t you just accept the fact that I am not now nor ever will be the real woman you want me to be? You can’t accept me for who I am, and I have no intention of changing my ideals or giving up my identity to please you.”

  A lone tear escaped Blythe’s eye, slid downward past her ear and onto the pastel quilt.

  “I didn’t ask you to change your ideals.” Adam stood, his back facing her. “And heaven forbid you should do anything to please me. After all, I don’t mean a thing to you, do I?”

  That’s not true, she wanted to shout. You mean far too much to me. I’m falling in love with you, and if I don’t protect myself you’ll break my heart.

  He walked across the room, then hesitated momentarily in the open doorway and glanced back at her. She didn’t look up at him. “Just tell me one thing, babe. What was that all about at the reception tonight, that outraged wife bit, that jealous, possessive woman who staked a claim on me? Was it all an act?”

  Blythe tried to speak, but tears caught in her throat, choking her. Adam walked out into the hall and lammed her bedroom door behind him.

  Turning over, Blythe jerked up a pillow and buried her face in it. Muffling her broken sobs, she cried until she was spent, then curled into a ball and closed her eyes. How would she ever get any sleep tonight when all she wanted to do was run across the hall and throw herself into Adam’s arms? But she couldn’t. She didn’t dare. Regardless of the passion that sprang to life between them whenever they touched, Adam didn’t love her and hadn’t offered her a lifetime commitment. All he wanted was for them to be lovers during their brief marriage of necessity. For him it was a simple matter of needing a woman. For her, it was a complicated matter of needing love and acceptance.

  Adam undressed, threw back the covers and crawled into bed, naked. He ached. His hard body throbbed with need. Dammit, why was Blythe being so stubborn about their making love again? She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Hell! Did she get some perverse sense of pleasure out of torturing him?

  Maybe she’d been able to control her desire tonight, but sooner or later a woman as passionate as Blythe was bound to give in to her primitive wants and needs. He just hoped he didn’t die of frustration before she realized she was fighting a losing battle.

  Seven

  The baby fluttered inside Blythe’s womb. She gripped the glass of orange juice in her trembling hand and slowly set it down on the table.

  “Is something wrong?” Adam asked, glancing over the morning newspaper he held in front of him.

  “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.” She should tell him that their child was moving. She should take his hand and lay it over her stomach so that he could feel the miracle growing inside her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Adam touching her, of sharing such an intimate moment with him. She’d first felt the slight stirrings nearly a dozen days ago, but she had told no one, not even Joy.

  “You look pale.” He folded the newspaper and laid it on the table. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I said I’m fine!” Damn, why did she always snap his head off over the most innocent comments? “I’m sorry, Adam, I suppose I’m just a bit nervous about my doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”

  “But Dr. Meyers said that there’s no danger in having a sonogram done,” Adam assured her. “What was it he said when I asked about any risks? Oh, yes. He said that in twenty-five years there had been no known risks.”

  “I’m not worried about the sonogram, just excited and nervous, wondering exactly what we’ll be able to see.” The baby was becoming more and more real every day. She could feel the tiny life moving inside her, and today she would see her child for the first time.

  “Why don’t you take the morning off and just rest and relax?” Adam suggested.

  “I can’t do that. This is December, one of my busiest months.”

  “If you’d hired extra help the way I wanted you to do, you’d be able to take a day off now and then, and you wouldn’t have to work so hard.”

  “I haven’t found anyone suitable,” Blythe said.

  “You haven’t interviewed anyone for the last three weeks. It isn’t a good idea to wait around to the last minute to hire someone reliable to take over when you have the baby.”

  Adam had never known anyone so determined to run a business single-handedly. He sometimes wondered just what Blythe was trying to prove, and to whom.

  He had a surprise for her this morning, one she might not want, but one she needed. She’d probably throw a royal fit at first and pout at him for a day or two, but he could deal with both as long as she forgave him and realized he’d done what was best for her and the baby.

  “I’ll get around to finding someone.”

  The baby moved again and Blythe gasped. She glanced across the table at her husband, who glared at her.

  “There is something wrong? What is it? Are you in pain?” He scooted back his chair.

  “Sit down and finish your coffee. I am perfectly all right,” she told him.

  Adam nodded agreement, pulled his chair back up to the table and picked up his cup. He had no idea what was going on, but something was causing Blythe’s odd actions this morning. He chuckled under his breath, then took a swig of coffee. Why should this morning be any different than the rest of the time? Most of his wife’s actions seemed a bit odd to him. She constantly surprised him, often amazed him, and occasionally infuriated him. But she always aroused him. Living with Blythe, having her so near all the time, was like being fifteen and having a crush on a beautiful young teacher you saw every day, but was never allowed to touch.

  He hadn’t been this sexually frustrated since he’d been a teenager, and God knew he’d never been celibate for four months. Why was it that since his divorce from Lynn, he’d been able to pick and choose women on his own terms—until Blythe? And when things ended, he’d had no regrets. But Blythe was different. He’d known she was different the first time they met. That was one of the reasons he’d stayed away from her. And that was the reason he had forgotten to use protection the first time he’d made love to her—the reason she was pregnant with his child.

  He had known women more beautiful, more voluptuous and far more experienced. But he had never known anyone quite like Blythe Elliott. She created a need inside him that only she could satisfy. An ache that only she could appease.
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  “Have you put in a bid on the River Walk project?” Blythe asked, then peeled a banana and dumped its skin onto her empty plate.

  “What?”

  “Last night you were telling me about all the new construction possibilities in the Decatur area, about how now more than ever before, your firm had a chance to bid on projects right here at home.” She took a bite out of the banana.

  He liked being able to discuss business with Blythe. Most of the women he’d dated hadn’t had a head for business and found any discussions about his firm terribly boring. Maybe because she owned and managed a business herself, Blythe understood his devotion to his work, his excitement in undertaking a new project. The first time she had made a couple of suggestions, he had ignored her. But after giving her ideas some thought, he realized his wife was a pretty smart businesswoman.

  “Construction is fast becoming big business around here,” Adam said. “Not just with the River Walk project, but with the new water treatment plant, the new bridge over the Tennessee River, and future plans to build a civic center as well as rebuild the old marina.”

  “That’s certainly more work than one firm could handle,” Blythe said. “You know, if you do bid on the River Walk project and win the bid, would you consider using me as one of your subcontractors?”

  “You? For what?”

  “For landscape design,” she told him. “There isn’t much I don’t know about plants, flowers, shrubs, trees, grass. And I’ve always wanted to expand, to own and operate a nursery as well as my downtown florist shop.”

  “How will you have time to run two businesses and raise a child?”

  She felt as if he’d reached across the table and slapped her. She had never shared her dreams with anyone except Joy. Now she’d shared them with Adam. She’d been foolish to think he’d understand, that he might actually encourage her. What had she expected him to say? “Why, honey, that’s a great idea. What can I do to help you? And of course, I’ll consider you for a subcontracting job if Wyatt Construction wins the River Walk bid. ”