She glanced away, unable to continue eye contact. “I’m responsible for my mother and my son Tyler.”
“I know.”
She shifted her gaze back to his. “They’re all the family I have.”
He came to his feet and took two steps. He was close. Much too close. Her heartbeat ramped up so fast she feared he would hear it knocking against her chest.
“Tell me about Tyler,” he said, removing the coffee cup from her hands.
She shifted her stance and felt her palms go clammy. “He has dark blond hair and blue eyes and a dimple when he smiles.”
“What does he like to do?”
“He likes to read by himself and for me to read to him.” What else did Tyler do? Watch TV? God help her, Evelyn was right. Clearly, she was failing Tyler.
“That’s about it,” she admitted finally, and added a weak justification. “He’s only eight.”
Alex held Jack’s gaze for a minute, waiting for him to say something. Staring into his eyes was a dangerous thing.
Jack read more in Alex’s reply than her feeble excuse. She couldn’t know that the tremor in her voice betrayed her heartache and concern. He was always a sucker for a damsel in distress.
Once more he watched as she hauled up her chin in that proud, take-nothing-from-nobody look. He wanted to touch her. Kiss her. Instead he steadied his breath, counting silently to ten.
What was the matter with him? Why couldn’t he tell Alex the whole truth instead of lying to her and pushing her into a marriage she didn’t want? Why had his brother had made such a mess of things?
Jack forced a smile. Alex looked even more delicately beautiful this morning. Her abundant mane of brown hair was pulled back from her heart-shaped face. He wished she’d let it down. Just for fun. Just for him. Alone. In some dark, candlelit bedroom.
He wanted to shake his head and the old fantasy from his mind. Instead he remained immobile and let his gaze search her face. He told himself he wasn’t susceptible to this woman, with her expressive eyes and her silken curls, who barely reached up to his shoulders.
The hell he wasn’t.
His lips yearned to possess her mouth. His fingers itched to touch Alex’s face. Instead, he let his hands hang by his side. He was trying to do a noble thing. Finding her so desirable didn’t jibe with his respectable intentions.
She stared back at him with a sad expression that made him want to do battle for her.
“Alex, I owe you the truth,” he said, making up his mind. “My mother is pressuring me to marry, but that’s not the only reason I proposed to you.” He paused to search her face. “I know Tyler is Brandon’s child.”
She paled and her hand lifted to her mouth. “Brandon promised never to tell anyone.”
“He left a letter for me to read in case he didn’t come home.” That wasn’t true, but it was easier than admitting he knew about Brandon’s behavior from the beginning and had been sending checks twice yearly to salve his conscience. He’d kept Brandon’s secret, not exposing him for the jerk he really was, because his parents loved their youngest son and would be hurt by his callousness toward Alex and Tyler.
She looked down. “I see.”
“My family has an obligation to you and your son, but not just a monetary one.” His jaw firmed. It was time to do more than send money. “I want to do what my brother didn’t do—provide a home for Tyler and perhaps, if he’ll have me, a father.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she brushed them aside. “Why are you doing this?”
Jack rubbed his forehead. “For the family. Brandon messed up. If I can fix it, I will.”
“Do your parents know?”
Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “No. I want to protect them. They think Brandon is a hero. I don’t want to tarnish my brother’s image so soon after his death.”
“You always protected Brandon.” Her voice was hard.
“In the end, I couldn’t protect him,” Jack said with a tight-lipped smile.
They measured each other, standing a heartbeat away, but miles apart emotionally. Had he blown his chances by not leveling with her from the beginning? Would she understand his need to defend his family’s honor?
“It has to be a business deal.” Alex broke the heavy silence, speaking so softly he hardly heard her.
“What?”
“Our marriage.” She took a stoic breath. “Since there’s no love involved, it has to be purely a business deal. If we marry, sex stays out of it.”
Jack took a step back. He assumed marriage came with all the bells and whistles.
Overlooking the details wasn’t like him. He should have anticipated a counter plan. “Is that the way you want it?”
“It has to be that way if I marry you.” Her voice grew strained. “I don’t want to have any kind of feelings invested. It would be too hard.”
“Do you think you’d invest feelings?”
“If we had sex,” she blurted out and then looked away as if she’d admitted too much. “I won’t marry you without an agreement, Jack.”
Her sensual, trembling lips offset the look of purpose in her eyes. This petite woman beckoned to him in a way she didn’t even know.
Jack felt his face flush. The stakes were high. “I’ll agree.”
She looked back, her eyes filled with resignation. “I’m not doing this for you or your parents.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
She drew herself up to her full, though diminutive, height. “I’m doing this for Tyler.”
“So am I.” Damn his brother and his cavalier attitude toward life. But Jack was beginning to realize some part of him wanted this marriage for himself.
“Plenty of people marry for reasons other than love,” Alex stated, almost if she tried to convince herself this was the right thing to do.
His right eye began to throb. Jack lifted his hand and rubbed his temple with two fingers. “We can keep this simple,” he said, drawing on the familiar reserve with which he handled life. He let his voice grow distant. “However, we must act as if we’re married. We’ll live in the same house and be seen together. It won’t be good for Tyler to think we’re not a couple. My parents have to believe it too.”
She looked away and nodded. “I want a pre-nuptial agreement.”
“Okay.” He had no reason to deny her, and anyway, she was right. They needed an official document to protect them both.
Alex sighed. “I’ll pretend to be your wife, Jack.” She jutted out that chin again and her gaze challenged his. “No one has to know about what is not going on behind closed doors.”
Disappointment shook him. He searched those pale green eyes, looking for something he didn’t find. He made up his mind and nodded his head. “We’ll keep up pretenses,” he said, “and we won’t let anyone know the truth, not even your mother. Is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal.”
He grasped her hand in his and shook it firmly as if she was one of his business partners.
Yet this wasn’t the same. The platonic agreement with Alex may be purely business on her part, but the tingling sensation that penetrated his fingers where they touched hers and the subsequent heat that surged through his body boded ill for his ability to keep his share of the bargain.
Chapter Five
Four days after their handshake, Jack’s corporate jet landed at McGee-Tyson Airport near Knoxville, Tennessee. It was a gray, windy day, and an early March snowstorm threatened from the southwest. The plan was simple. Purchase a marriage license at the Pigeon Forge City Hall, and have a simple and quick wedding at Cupid’s Arrow Chapel near Gatlinburg. No guests. Not even Tyler or Evelyn, and certainly not Jack’s parents. The elder Jackson Breckinridge and his socialite wife Irene didn’t know about their son’s wedding plans.
A white stretch limousine delivered them up a mountainside to an old church situated in the shadow of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Charming and delightful, the stone chapel—with its steeply pitched ro
of, leaded stained-glass windows and bell tower—was postcard-perfect. The ideal place for a quickie wedding.
Right. Alex peered at the quaint church with a mixture of dread and anxiety. Would this work? Their pre-nuptial agreement was properly signed and notarized. Jack would settle a sizable trust fund on Tyler. They would move to Breckinridge Station where her son would have a normal life in the place where she had grown up.
Alex’s heart thudded against her chest. She wanted a measure of control in this marriage, needing to guarantee emotional distance from the man who wanted nothing from her but a signature on a marriage certificate so he could protect his brother’s good name. How could she do her best for Tyler and protect her own feelings?
Without sex, that’s how.
Even though she had suggested the plan, there was something cold and off-putting about this whole arrangement.
Jack reached across the seat and covered her hand with his warm one. “I want this to be special for you.”
Alex jerked her gaze from the beautiful view and repressed the urge to pull her hand away from the intimacy. In the gray daylight, she tried to gauge his frame of mind.
“Let’s just get it over with.” Her voice sounded as frigid as the weather.
Jack removed his hand and looked away. “Fine with me.”
Her throat tightened. Jack’s clipped words told her all she needed to know. He was no more in a mood to do this than she was. This was a family obligation to him.
Jack left the limo and came around to open her door. A plump, fifty-something woman bustled toward them from the church as Alex stepped out.
“Welcome to Cupid’s Arrow, Mr. Breckinridge,” the woman said. “I’m Cynthia Grant, the hostess here. We spoke on the phone.”
“Ah, yes.” Jack extended his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
She smiled, pumping his hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t order sunshine for you today.”
“I’m thankful you were able accommodate us on such short notice.” Jack turned to Alex. “This is my fiancé, Alexis Marsden.”
“Come straight along with me, honey. Let’s get you out of this cold.” Mrs. Grant swept Alex toward the side door. “We’re quite busy today with six weddings. Saturday, don’t you know?”
Inside a room marked Brides’ Dressing Suite, Alex forced down a sudden surge of panic. Another young woman in a confection of white occupied the far side of the room. Her attendant, dressed in red, stood by her side.
“I’m sorry to have to put you in a room with another girl, but it won’t be for long. It’s almost time for Emily’s ceremony,” Mrs. Grant cooed, gesturing with her hands as she spoke.
Alex nodded and smiled, and then turned her back on the blushing bride who looked young and scared.
Just like she felt.
Get over it. You agreed to this.
Alex clamped her lips together and dropped her tote bag on a chair.
Mrs. Grant slipped out and returned with Alex’s garment bag. “Here’s your gown, honey. Best be getting ready, don’t you know?” She hung the bag on a hook. “Do you need my help?”
“No, thank you.”
“Then I’ll just leave you for now.”
The woman’s energy exhausted Alex. Maybe her lack of sleep was catching up to her. She sighed and opened her tote.
During the next few minutes, Alex freshened her makeup and ran a brush through her thick hair. Then she removed her sweater, jeans, and boots and pulled on a pair of pantyhose, something she hardly ever wore. The dress she’d chosen was a stylish, silk ensemble with a three-quarter length sleeve jacket and a separate long skirt. A size four, the plum outfit was simple and elegant and not a bit bride-like.
She didn’t care. This was a business deal. Not a real wedding.
The hostess rushed in to collect Emily. Now dressed and completely alone, Alex took a deep breath and turned to face the floor-to-ceiling length mirror on the other wall.
She gasped. No longer did she look like that scruffy gallop girl, careworn single mother, or even Chandler Company’s efficient marketing assistant. The woman who stared back at her had a poised, confident expression on her face as if she knew what she wanted out of life and how to get it.
The irony made Alex smile.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Mrs. Grant popped in again. “I’m glad to see that smile.”
Alex’s face warmed. “Thank you.”
“Emily’s wedding has started. As soon as they finish taking pictures, I’ll come for you,” she said. “But first, that handsome man of yours sent me to give you these.”
Mrs. Grant whipped an ivory wedding bouquet from behind her back. “You see, there’s just a blush of red in the roses to go with your purple dress.”
“Oh, thank you!” Alex brought the delicate fragrant flowers up to her nose. She saw the faint tinge of red. And something more—Jack’s attention to detail.
“He also sent you this gift.” The hostess was as excited as a kid in a candy store, her smile contagious.
Alex accepted the black velvet box. “For me?”
“Yes, honey. You’re to wear them.”
With trembling fingers, Alex flicked open the top. Pearls. The color of the roses Jack had just given her. A pearl choker and matching pearl earrings. Nothing flashy, but serene and lovely.
“Oh, my!”
“Here, let me help you.” Mrs. Grant clasped the necklace around Alex’s neck. “They look nice, don’t you know?”
When the woman was gone again, Alex turned to face the mirror. The pearls were exquisite, something she could never afford for herself.
Panic rose slowly in her throat. Heaven help her! Jackson Breckinridge didn’t want a for-real marriage, any more than she did.
These pearls represented something even more terrifying than the impersonal wedding ceremony that lay ahead. Her life was spiraling out of control. No matter what Jack promised, the prospect of living life as a Breckinridge among wealth and privilege frightened the heck out of her.
* * * *
Somewhere in the chapel, a bad recording of Trumpet Voluntary revved up. It wasn’t the stately pipe organ rendition of the song, but Jack didn’t care. In his wildest dreams, this was what he always wanted to happen—Alex walking down the aisle wearing a white wedding gown and looking at him with love shining in her eyes.
He drew himself up, squaring his shoulders, and turned to watch Alex move slowly down the aisle toward him. She was carrying the bouquet of roses he had given her and around her neck, she wore his grandmother’s pearls. Staring directly at him, she held her head high with a look in her eyes that could either be fear or defiance, but not love.
Resignation rippled through his body. Unfortunately, love was one-sided in this relationship. Alex viewed it as a marriage of convenience, a means to an end. He had been mistaken years ago, thinking he was too old for her. But he’d been young himself and Brandon was in the picture, complicating things, making a mess of everything he touched.
Damn! He had been so wrong. He had believed Brandon loved Alex, and at that time he wasn’t going to compete with his kid brother. Then Alex got pregnant and Brandon had deserved a chance to step up and be a man.
Alex reached his side and stopped. She gave him a tremulous smile.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
“Thank you for the pearls.” She actually blushed.
“You’re welcome. I told you I wanted to make today special.”
The music ended with an abrupt squeak as they turned to face the minister. Alex lowered her gaze, her lashes shadowing her eyes.
The clergyman cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved,” he said in his East Tennessee accent. “We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony...”
Jack released a pent-up breath and lifted his gaze. Heart-shaped candelabras framed the wall behind the minister. As the man’s voice droned on, Jack tried
to ignore the paradox of the empty chapel. On what should be the most important day in his life, when he should be surrounded by family and friends, he was alone. Only Alex shared this moment. For better or worse, they were in this together. Just the two of them.
“Alexis Anne.” The minister turned to her.
Alex barely came up to his shoulder. Her upturned gaze was focused on the minister, and the light from the flickering candles cast an ethereal glow across her face.
The minister asked, “Will you have this man to be your husband, to live together in holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”
Jack expected Alex’s voice to be soft, a measure of her reluctance to be his wife. Instead she answered in a very firm, “I will.”
And then it was his turn.
“Jackson, will you have this woman to be your wife…”
To be your wife. The words hung like the aroma of scented candle smoke in the air. Alex wouldn’t know he really meant his promise.
Sweat spiked his brow. “I will.”
The minister took Alex’s bouquet and placed it on the altar. “Please face each other and join hands.”
Alex’s gaze turned up to him as he caught her hands. They were small but strong, so soft to the touch.
“Repeat after me. I, Jackson, take thee Alexis…”
Jack’s voice cracked as he recited the vows, his heart beating hard against his chest. “Till death us do part,” he ended and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
Once more, Alex delivered her vows firmly, awing him by the steady resolve in her voice.
“Do you have rings?” the minister asked.
Alex lowered her gaze in confusion. “Rings?”
Jack gave a reassuring grin. “I brought them.”
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