Wade's Woman

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Wade's Woman Page 8

by Christina Carlisle


  He waited, watching the surprised expression on Tara's face. “I didn't realise it would be so ... so soon.” She stumbled over the words. “What did David and Michelle think?"

  "They were thrilled, as I thought they would be. Michelle considers it the love match of the century and has offered to prepare a special luncheon to celebrate. Also, I thought we would invite Molly and her husband Brian to join us. Molly's like one of the family."

  "That will be nice."

  "Are you sure you don't have any relations or friends you'd like to invite?"

  "No, there's no one."

  Ryan moved next to her. He could smell her delicate perfume and watched in fascination at the small pulse beating rapidly at the base of her throat. She was scared and he couldn't blame her. It was quite a step they were both about to take. “It's going to be all right, Tara,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I'll take good care of you and the kids already adore you."

  Tara's lashes fluttered nervously. “It's all so sudden and strange. How can we go away? What about your patients?"

  "David and I have arranged for a locum that we know from Marlston to fill in for me. He'll stay here until Tuesday morning, which will give us three days break. I thought we could stay at one of the resorts and go skiing."

  "I can't ski."

  "Then I'll teach you."

  "I ... I.” Tara went to turn away but Ryan pulled her against him, his hands holding her face.

  "I know you're nervous, Tara and that it's an unusual, rather unromantic situation, but we are physically attracted to each other. I'm sure we can make this marriage work—for the time we're together,” he added and bending his head, captured her mouth in a gentle kiss.

  Tara's heart was drumming at the feel of his lips on hers. She wanted more. She wanted all of him, his mind and his body, she decided as she moved against him, parting her lips to allow him entry. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as he deepened the kiss and her head began to spin as he caressed the soft skin of her back under her jumper. He slid his hands to her hips and the rounded curves of her bottom, holding her tightly against him. When Ryan would have broken the kiss, she clung, her lips and tongue teasing his and he responded until both of them were caught in a storm of passion.

  "Yes, very physically compatible,” Ryan breathed raggedly as at last they parted.

  Tara gasped for air. How could she have been so forward? What must he think of her?

  "Are you sure you want to wait until we get married before we make love?” Ryan asked, his mouth lifting sensuously.

  Abruptly turning away, Tara emptied the remaining lukewarm coffee into the sink. “Have sex, don't you mean?” she said sharply.

  Ryan frowned. “If you prefer to call it that, it's okay with me but we're not animals, Tara. I think over the past few weeks we have learned to like and respect each other, haven't we?"

  Tara leaned against the table and folded her arms across her chest. She had to hide what she really felt for Ryan. When the time came for their marriage to end, if he knew that she had fallen in love he would have concern and pity for her. She had to protect herself and her own feelings. She was far too vulnerable to a man like Ryan.

  "Yes, we're getting on just fine, but I think it is pointless to hide the truth behind fancy words. I'm helping you in your bid to keep the children. You're giving me the protection of your name and standing in the community as your wife. Sex is a physical urge and for us to have sex should satisfy that urge."

  Ryan shrugged. “Oh, I believe I can cope without if you find it distasteful in any way. But that wasn't the impression I received a few moments ago. You were the one turning up the heat, Tara, or was that just good acting?"

  Hot colour rose under Tara's skin as she made herself stare Ryan out. “No, I like sex,” she admitted softly. “And you're a very attractive man. However, I still want to wait until we are married."

  "You drive a hard bargain, Tara Mason, and you have some strange attitudes, but I'm willing to wait. After all, it's only seven days."

  He turned and left her. She heard him open the adjoining door to the surgery. Clutching on to the back of a chair for dear life, she wondered once again whether she was doing the right thing.

  * * * *

  "I knew the two of you were made for each other. It couldn't be better,” Michelle sighed as she adjusted the zip of Tara's new dress.

  "Of course, you should be wearing the full bridal gown, but seeing the two of you are in such a hurry to tie the knot, I guess you've had to cut a few corners.” She adjusted Tara's neckline.

  "It will be such a short ceremony it seemed silly to make such a fuss.” Tara realised to her annoyance that her hands were trembling as she clasped the tiny earrings in place.

  "You look beautiful.” Michelle turned her to the full-length mirror in her bedroom where Tara was getting changed. The two men were downstairs in the lounge with the celebrant waiting patiently for the arrival of the bride.

  Tara gasped as she took a long look at herself. The knee-length silk dress of the palest blue was a perfect fit, clinging to her slender waist and flaring into elegant swirls from her hips. The matching coloured earrings and necklace made the rushed visit she and Michelle had taken to Marlston very worthwhile. Michelle had spent some time with Tara's long hair, piling it high on her head but allowing stray tendrils to escape, softening the sophisticated effect. Light, strappy sandals completed the outfit.

  "Do you think I need more blusher?” Tara asked anxiously as she studied her pale face. Her stomach tightened at the thought of what she was about to do and yet, this is what she wanted. Wasn't it?

  "Turn around and I'll pop some on although I don't think you'll need any blusher by the time Ryan gives you one of his seriously sexy looks,” Michelle teased.

  Tara smiled. “I hadn't realised you'd thought of Ryan as sexy,” she replied, responding with her own gentle teasing.

  "Not notice? You must be mad! I may be very married to my own hunky man but I can tell you that there isn't one single woman from eight to eighty who doesn't consider Ryan Wade to be the most gorgeous bloke ever. Why do you think he's got so many patients? It isn't just because he's a great doctor, you know."

  "Will everyone think it strange that he's marrying an out of town nobody like me?"

  Michelle hesitated and then placed the blusher compact on the dressing table, a serious expression replacing the teasing one. “Tara, don't underestimate yourself. You are lovely, you're great with Ryan's kids, and you're a terrific support for him. I'm sure this marriage is right for you both. And don't worry, I know all about the custody battle coming up. Ryan needs you, so be happy."

  Michelle gave Tara a sudden hug, her eyes suspiciously moist, and Tara held her close. Yes, he needs me, but he doesn't love me.

  Ryan and David were standing in front of the fire in the lounge when Michelle escorted Tara down the narrow stairs. Tara stared at Ryan, so tall and handsome in a pale grey tailored suit with a white shirt and dark grey tie. Molly and Brian had arrived and Michelle and David's son Tom stood proudly beside his father. A hundred thoughts flashed through Tara's mind as Ryan took her hand, holding it firmly in his. I wish Emma was here. She could have been my beautiful little flower girl. I wish my parents were alive—I miss them. I'm alone except for this man who is about to become my husband.

  The ceremony was over before Tara knew it. Ryan's mouth covered hers in a light kiss to the applause and cheering of the small group.

  "You look very beautiful,” he whispered, and she smiled wistfully.

  "So do you,” she replied and he laughed as the champagne corks popped around them.

  * * * *

  There was a good deal of laughter and frivolity as the guests enjoyed a spectacular meal of prawns and smoked salmon, followed by roast duckling and finally a slice of wedding cake which Molly had made as her wedding gift. It was four o'clock and they had not long finished the “wedding feast,” as Tom had called it, when it was time to leave.
As they drove away from the house, Tara turned to wave at Michelle and David.

  "It only takes an hour to get to Mount Russo, but I don't want to drive in the dark in this weather,” Ryan said.

  "Have there been heavy snow falls up there?” Tara asked politely.

  "Yeah, big falls. But the weather forecast is fine for tomorrow so we should get in some skiing."

  Tara leaned back in her seat, willing the nervousness she had suffered since this morning to disappear. They had both changed into casual, warm clothes and loaded their cases and Ryan's ski gear into the back of the vehicle.

  The locum covering for Ryan was safely ensconced in the house and they had two full days break ahead. She should feel excited. She was now Mrs. Tara Wade—Wade's woman. She was as nervous as a kitten and she knew it was mainly to do with tonight. Her wedding night when she would give herself to her new husband.

  Ryan linked his hand with hers. “Are you okay? You've been pretty quiet all day."

  Staring at their linked hands, Tara gave a short laugh. “I'm nervous,” she admitted. “It's not everyday day a girl gets married."

  Ryan gave her a quick glance, taking in the pale skin and apprehensive expression. What an idiot he was! Of course she was scared. He would have realised just how much if he'd paid her more attention in the past week. But he'd been so damned busy making sure everything in the practice was up to date and that arrangements for the wedding were in place. He had missed the kids unbearably and knew that Tara felt the same way. He'd only needed to look at her sad, lonely face to know that.

  He squeezed her hand gently thinking how fragile it felt. “It is a very special day but you don't need to be nervous, Tara,” he said. “There's no pressure on you to do anything you would prefer not to. Think of it as a few days break with a close friend."

  Tara bit back an instant retort. You're not my close friend. You're my husband and tonight ... tonight...

  "I've booked us in to have a light dinner in the restaurant tonight. I think you'll enjoy the resort. It's one of Mount Russo's best."

  "I hope you didn't book the honeymoon suite."

  Ryan burst out laughing at the horror in Tara's voice. “No, I didn't actually, but you are beginning to make me wish I had. When's the last time you made love, Tara?"

  "I'm ... I'm not going to answer that. It's so personal."

  "Yes, it is. But we are husband and wife now. Perhaps it's something we should discuss."

  "I can't, Ryan."

  There was silence as both of them contemplated this strange conversation. Tara was shocked at the bluntness of Ryan's questions and felt herself tightening up another notch, if that was possible.

  Ryan pondered her evasiveness. He guessed that she'd had some sort of bad relationship in the past but that didn't account for her lack of family and friends or the fact that she never received any mail. For both of their sakes he needed to know what her past problems were. How else would he be able to help her overcome them and enable them both to obtain any semblance of happiness?

  * * * *

  Tara watched Ryan's long, lean fingers stroking the side of his wine glass. What would his fingers feel like caressing her breasts ? Such clever, beautiful healing hands. Her eyes drifted to his handsome face, half in shadow in the romantic light of the restaurant. He wasn't looking at her; rather he was watching the reflections from the roaring fire accentuating the glowing ruby colour of the wine. Oh help! It's getting late and I'm running out of small talk, she thought fighting down the sudden feeling of panic. I can't do this—Ryan isn't interested in me. I can't do it!

  "It's been quite a day. Are you tired?” he asked.

  "No, not really. It was a lovely meal.” What an inane comment. Tara cringed. The whole place was lovely including their room, with a luxurious four poster bed, two bathrooms and a lounge area. It was magnificent, but Tara couldn't wait to get out of there. She suggested they unpack later so they could look around the resort. They had drunk champagne in one of the cosy bars and met up with some English tourists to whom Ryan had talked at length about the difference between skiing in Europe and Australia. Tara had joined in the conversation, although she knew little about the subject, but anything to slow the evening down seemed a good idea. Now the time had come and there was no avoiding the inevitable.

  Ryan shifted in his chair. “Well, Tara, it's been a great evening. You know almost everything about me. We've discussed the health system, movies, the kids—you name it, but you still haven't told me much about yourself."

  Tara was silent.

  "I know about your career. I know where you were trained. I know you're a damned fine nurse but ... what happened to your parents, for instance?"

  "My mother was killed in an accident when I was three. My Dad brought me up. He died of cancer a few months ago."

  "I'm sorry.” Ryan touched her hand. “Any siblings?"

  "No."

  "Where did you live? In Melbourne?"

  "A few kilometres out on a property. I drove to work each day."

  "Was it your father's property?"

  "Yes, well ... its mine now."

  "Are you going to sell it?"

  "I don't know."

  Ryan reached over and lifting her hand, raised it to his lips. “Tara, sweetheart, this is like performing major surgery. You are obviously very uncomfortable about telling me anything, but here comes the ultimate question. Will you tell me what happened to make you run away? Did a man hurt you?"

  "That's two questions.” Tara tried to smile as she thought furiously about her reply.

  Ryan waited.

  "I can tell you that I was engaged to be married two years ago, but we mutually agreed that it wouldn't work out."

  "And that's what you're running from?"

  Tara hesitated. “No. Ryan, I can't tell you, not yet. Please forgive me."

  She looked so contrite that Ryan felt he would forgive her anything at that moment. He would have to be patient a little longer, but he could feel she was learning to trust him and that was a good start.

  "We don't need to make love tonight if you'd rather not."

  Tara could feel herself blushing and looked around at the other tables wondering if anyone had heard Ryan letting her off the sexual hook. She leaned towards him. “Ryan, I am nervous but I do want to have sex with you,” she whispered.

  Ryan grinned. “So we're back to the sex thing are we?” he said, standing up and helping Tara from her chair.

  * * * *

  Tara huddled under the duvet. Ryan was still in the shower while she was preened and perfumed, wearing a cream lace nightdress and waiting for her new husband to come to her. She had loosened her hair and brushed it until it shone and cascaded to her waist in a silky curtain.

  She drew a deep, controlling breath as he walked from his bathroom, naked except for a pair of black boxer shorts around his lean hips. Oh my goodness, but he was gorgeous. She ran her eyes over his tousled dark hair, the width of his shoulders and his lean waist and long legs.

  "Can I leave the light on?” he asked, with a nod to the bedside lamp casting a warm glow around the room.

  "If you like.” Tara's voice was husky as she fought to contain her nerves.

  Ryan pulled back the duvet and got into the bed beside her. It was then that he noticed her hair. His fingers touched and held the silky tresses, a look of awe on his face.

  "You have the most beautiful hair, Tara,” he whispered, his voice slightly gruff as he lifted some locks to his lips, pressing a kiss into their softness and inhaling the delicate perfume. “Don't ever, ever have it cut.” His tone was emphatic as he caressed her cheek in a tender gesture.

  "No sir,” Tara replied with a shy smile as the warmth in Ryan's dark eyes burned into her very soul.

  "No matter what lies in the future for us, I want you to know that I'm proud to have you as my wife."

  Tara moved restlessly edging towards him. “Please, Ryan, don't talk. Just make love to me."

&nb
sp; Ryan leaned over her, his mouth soft against her neck. Gently he pulled away her nightdress exposing her nakedness to him. “You are glorious,” he murmured as he bent and suckled first one and then the other breast.

  Tara arched against him as she felt ripples of desire flowing through her. She ran her hands through his dark hair and over his shoulders, marvelling in the smoothness of his olive skin. Ryan kissed his way across her rib cage and the curve of her stomach to her hip bones, his mouth and hands preparing her to receive him.

  She closed her eyes, her heart hammering with anticipation. Parting her thighs, he moved over and then into her welcoming moist heat, slowly at first and then Tara urged him on, lifting her hips to accommodate him.

  "Ryan, oh Ryan!” She couldn't contain her cry as she felt the beginnings of her orgasm. He thrust faster as his control began to slip and when Tara convulsed around him, he was lost in his own magnificent oblivion.

  Tara held Ryan tightly as he shuddered to his climax, revelling in the feel of him inside her, loving her, needing her. He lay heavily on her as they both fought to get their breath.

  "You were wonderful,” he sighed lying back on his pillow and pulling her against him.

  Tara was quiet in his arms. As a lover Ryan was everything she'd ever imagined, and he thought she was wonderful! She could die of happiness at this moment.

  "Are you all right?” Ryan sounded anxious as he turned to her, stroking the hair from her eyes. “Was it as nerve-wracking as you thought?"

  "You were extraordinary.” Her smile was sweetly tender as her fingers traced the curve of his jaw and sensual mouth.

  "As in extraordinarily good, I hope.” His eyes locked with hers, flaring with a blatant, naked hunger. “Because I want you again."

  Tara drew his head down to her and whispered “Then take me."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "You are a brute, Ryan Wade. Now I know where your son gets it from!” Tara could hardly speak for laughing as she lay panting in the snow where Ryan had playfully tipped her after she had bombarded him with snow balls.

 

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