The Maverick Marriage

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Trust me. I have plenty for them both to do. And no, Nate won’t mind, as I usually have half a dozen interns working for me every summer and following me around, so he’s used to sharing me with others. But enough about my business. It’s time to talk about yours,” he announced magnanimously, putting aside their empty glasses and helping her to her feet.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He urged softly, “Come and take a look.” Still smiling mysteriously, he led her into the bedroom, past the split-rail double bed where they had made love earlier in the day. There, on the desk, was a laptop computer. Perplexed, Susannah fingered the tag on the carrying case. “This has my name on it,” she said. But it wasn’t hers.

  “And completely updated software which will make your consulting work a lot easier and more efficient,” Trace supplied.

  Stunned, Susannah swung around to face him. This was a gift? From Trace? When had he had time to do this? How had he managed? she wondered incredulously, as busy as he had been. “It has occurred to me that, before, I didn’t give enough attention to your needs,” he told her seriously, taking her all the way into his arms once again. He gently smoothed the hair from her face. “Now, I’m going to try.” He cupped a hand beneath her chin and slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was hot and sweet and completely overwhelming in its tenderness. For a moment forgetting her earlier anger at him for dragging business into their evening together, Susannah wreathed her arms around his neck and met him more than halfway. Engulfed by a wave of passion long held at bay, she let his hands stroke down her back, up her sides, to her breasts. She let him deepen the kiss to thrilling heights. Marriage to Trace had never been like this, she thought. Trace had never been like this. But she loved the changes time had wrought, and the new single-mindedness he had brought to their relationship…

  Trace hadn’t intended for the kiss to get so hot so fast. He hadn’t intended to make love to her that afternoon, either. But he had. To the short-shrifting of their getting to know each other again as intimately as they needed to know each other, for them to have even a prayer of making this relationship of theirs work.

  With difficulty, he ended the kiss, telling himself all the while this could be continued later.

  As he released her, Susannah spied a large gift-wrapped box on the bedroom bureau. The slightly bedazzled look leaving her sable eyes, her soft lips opened in an O of surprise. Delight sparkling in her eyes, she nudged Trace’s shoulder. “More presents?”

  To Susannah’s dismay, Trace frowned and looked just as stunned to see the gift as she was. “Not from me,” he admitted reluctantly. He glanced at her. “I take it this isn’t from you, either?”

  “No.”

  Curious, Trace crossed the room to retrieve the gift box and brought it back to the bed. The tag read For Susannah and Trace. Brimming with an interest as lively as his own, Susannah sat down opposite Trace and undid the ribbon. Trace lifted the lid. Nestled inside the tissue were seven round-trip tickets to the South Pacific, hotel reservations, a signed contract for a college-age tour guide and companion for the kids and a note from Max. They read it together.

  Dear Susannah and Trace,

  Most times, honeymoons are taken without the kids. But in your case, I figured you would be wanting all four of your boys—and the companion hired to watch over them—close at hand. So for once, both of you forget about your work and enjoy the time off in tropical paradise. Remember, I’ve always believed in miracles and I’m a’rooting for you.

  Love, Max

  “I wonder how this got here,” Susannah murmured, delighted at the fairy-tale quality her life had recently taken on.

  “Cisco, probably,” Trace said, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  “Max thought of everything.”

  “Yes, he did.” Trace released a sigh of deep satisfaction. With the tip of his finger, he directed her gaze to the typed itinerary. “Notice the date on the tickets?”

  Susannah’s eyebrows drew together as she noted, “The departure date is the day after the wedding.” She looked up at Trace. “He must’ve had a lot of faith that we would reconcile quickly,” she murmured, amazed.

  Traced admitted confidently, “He knows I don’t like to waste time. Like him, I prefer to get things wrapped up as soon as possible. And that goes double for my personal life.”

  A chill went through Susannah. Trace had not meant to hurt her. He was just being honest. Nevertheless, once again, she felt more like a challenge Trace had decided to meet than a bride-to-be. Her feelings in turmoil, she propelled herself gracefully to her feet and moved to the window. Simultaneously, Trace’s cell phone rang. Trace strode into the other room to answer it.

  “I’VE MADE UP my mind,” Sam Farraday said at the other end of a very staticky line. “I’m selling, to you, ASAP, according to the terms previously set.”

  “Great,” Trace told her. He wanted this over.

  “I want to sign the papers as soon as possible,” Sam continued on the other end.

  “No problem,” Trace assured her. He turned to see what Susannah was doing. She was standing at the window, looking out at the gusting wind and rain. Though the night outside was dark and gloomy, thanks to the fire he had built earlier, the inside of the lodge was filled with a warmth and light not unlike the kind Susannah brought into his life.

  “How about tomorrow night?” Trace abruptly became aware of what Sam Farraday was saying. “After the ceremony, of course,” Sam continued.

  She was talking about doing business during the wedding. “During the reception?” Trace repeated, not bothering to mask his astonishment. He had known from the outset that Sam Farraday was remarkably self-involved, but the thought of doing business—any business—during his wedding was carrying things a little too far.

  “It works for me,” Sam said. “And you know I’m only going to be in Montana for a couple days.”

  But it doesn’t work for me or Susannah, Trace thought. Firmly but kindly he told Sam just as Susannah walked into the room, “The reception is an inappropriate time.”

  “Then just before the ceremony?” Sam persisted.

  Trace looked over at Susannah. Her long sleeves were pushed halfway up her forearms. Her hair was soft and mussed. Her bare feet were tucked into sandals. She wore little makeup, no jewelry, yet she had never looked sexier than she did at that moment. It was all he could do to keep his mind on the deal, and if it weren’t for the fact that he had worked on it for months now, he would be tempted to forget it altogether. “Before the wedding is likely to be a little crazy, too,” Trace told Sam distractedly.

  “Then when?” Sam persisted, beginning to sound a little annoyed he wasn’t being more cooperative now that he finally had the deal he’d wanted so long.

  Trace knew it was now or never. The Farraday property would secure the fiscal success of his business for years to come. With four boys and a wife to take care of now, he couldn’t turn away from the long-term financial security this deal offered. “How about nine tomorrow morning?” he suggested after a moment. That way he could get it all wrapped up before the wedding and honeymoon. “We can meet here at the ranch.”

  “Sounds good,” Sam retorted happily on the other end. “I’ll see you then.”

  Trace hung up to find Susannah glaring at him furiously. “I can’t believe you,” she fumed, not giving him a chance to get a word in edgewise. “You’re doing a business deal tomorrow morning?”

  Some things never changed, Trace thought, equally piqued. At the mere mention of his business, Susannah flew off the handle.

  “Our wedding isn’t until four in the afternoon,” he told her calmly, unable to understand why she looked as if he had just sold her down the river.

  “You are incredible,” Susannah said, flabbergasted. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Trace had an idea what she was thinking. He reassured her with a great deal more patience than he felt, “My signing a few papers wil
l not interfere with our being together.”

  “Don’t you get it?” she retorted exasperatedly. “It already has.”

  His own temper skyrocketing, Trace regarded her stoically. He had already explained why this deal was important to him. He couldn’t understand her attitude, unless she was still locked into some old behavior patterns, too.

  He regarded her steadily. She was making him feel as though he had failed her again, and though in the past she had often been right about that, this time he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’d have thought having a career of your own would’ve taught you the importance of honoring your commitments,” he told her coolly, wanting to get their mutual priorities set from the get-go.

  “Exactly.” Susannah paced the room grimly as hot, angry color swept into her face. “Only in my case, I know what comes first. Family, Trace. Not another acquisition. When will it ever be enough?” Her brown eyes glittered with hurt. “For heaven’s sake, you’re almost as rich as Uncle Max!”

  Trace knew it would never be enough until he stopped feeling as if the rug could be pulled out from under him at any second. Seeing to finances was only step one of his master plan for his family. “When you calm down, you will realize this is no big deal,” he told her calmly, knowing this was not going to change. The sooner the Farraday deal was closed, the sooner he could concentrate fully on rebuilding his relationship with Susannah. That would be good for all of them.

  “You’re wrong, Trace. This is a very big deal.” She yanked open the door and rushed headlong out into the pouring rain. In the distance, lightning flashed.

  Determined to stop her from walking out on him once again, Trace was hard on her heels. “Where are you going?” he demanded, annoyed with her foolhardiness.

  “I don’t know!” Susannah shouted, whirling away from him. “I don’t care!”

  Her impetuous words hit him like a sucker punch in the gut. Worse, they were familiar. He grasped her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. They had only been outside a few minutes and their clothes were soaked to their skin. “You can’t drive in this storm.” He regarded her with ambivalence. It wasn’t safe.

  “Watch me,” she sputtered, wrenching herself free of his detaining hold.

  The wind whipped up with a mighty gust as thunder roared overhead, but it was nothing, Trace thought furiously, compared to the storm going on inside of him. He grabbed her wrist and wrested the car keys from her hand. Slipping an arm beneath her knees, he scooped her into his arms and carried her onto the porch of the hunting lodge. He set her down promptly, then backed her up against the rough exterior side of the lodge. His expression stern, he braced an arm on either side of her.

  Leaning in close, he pressed a light, fleeting kiss across her lips. Another across her cheek, her temple, her forehead. “You’re not walking out on me, Susannah. Not again.”

  SUSANNAH TREMBLED at the sizzling contact of his lips against her skin. She had wanted Trace to come after her before, to prove that he loved her and did not want a divorce after only three months of marriage. Then, she hadn’t felt one-tenth of what she felt for him now, maybe because the intervening years, combined with seeing and being with him again, had made her realize just how precious and rare what they had shared really was.

  To the right of them, the rain continued to come down in torrential sheets. To the left of them, warmth and light spilled from the open doorway. Safety was just steps away, Susannah thought, trembling. Heartbreak, too. She knew she couldn’t bear to fall in love with Trace again, only to lose him to his work, and like it or not, she was falling in love with him. His devotion to his work was interfering with their life even now. She had no reassurance it wouldn’t continue to be that way.

  She curved her hands around the flexed muscles in his arms. It was late. She was tired, and alone with him like this, feeling far too vulnerable. She hitched in a breath. “I can’t go back to living the way we did before, Trace.” Her low voice vibrated in the soft silence of the evening. I can’t go back to constantly being disappointed.

  He threaded his hands through the damp strands of her hair as lightning zigzagged in the distance, and thunder roared. “I’m not asking you to do that,” he soothed, stroking down the length of her hair with gentle, mesmerizing motions.

  If only that were true, Susannah thought on a soft, sad sigh. “Aren’t you?” she asked, trembling all the more at what she felt. He had the potential to hurt her as no one ever had or ever would.

  “No,” he said roughly, hauling her into his arms and tightening his grip on her just enough to make her heartbeat unsteady. “I’m not.”

  His lips slanted over hers in a fierce implacable way that left her no choice but to respond. And respond she did, with all her heart and soul. Twining her arms around his neck, she opened her mouth to his, accepting the searing, deliberate thrust and parry of his tongue. As his hands slid over her back, she arched her body closer yet, reveling in the hard feel of his body pressed against hers.

  She gave a little cry as he swept her into his arms and carried her inside the lodge. He shut the door with his foot, and continued toward the bedroom. His eyes locked with hers, he set her down beside the bed. Together they undressed. Together, they lay down in the cool linen sheets. His mouth came down on hers, touched briefly, then moved to her nape, where it traced sensual patterns of his own design. And dropped lower, to the uppermost curves of her breasts. “Trace,” Susannah moaned.

  “What?” He caught her nipple in his mouth and tugged gently.

  “I want you. Now,” Susannah whispered fiercely as his hands cupped her breasts and nimbly worked her nipples to crowns.

  She felt his arousal, pressing against her, even as he kissed her again and again, until her insides were hot and melting and she whimpered against him.

  He moved so they were lying on their sides. “Like this?” he whispered as his palms slid lower. He cupped a hand around the nest of sable curls. The other flattened against the small of her spine. “or like this?” Eyes locked on hers, he stroked her dewy softness, moving up, in.

  “Yes,” she whispered, watching his eyes gleam with distinctly male satisfaction as she followed his lead and caressed him passionately, too. “Like this,” she whispered as they kissed again, first slowly and lingeringly, then hotly, rapaciously. Until there was no doubting they needed each other, they needed this. Not to just survive, but to thrive. Until she surged up against him, every inch of her, wanting every inch of him.

  And yet even when the passion had quieted, when their bodies were sated, and they lay twined together, their hearts still beating as one, she knew nothing was settled. He still wanted things his way. When faced with turmoil, her gut reaction was to close down her feelings and head in the opposite direction. Certainly, that method of self-protection worked to minimize the risk of being hurt. But it did nothing to solve her problems, nor help to keep from making the same old mistakes all over again. It did not tell her when to stay and fight, and when to accept that something simply wasn’t going to work out, no matter how much she wanted it.

  It didn’t tell her what to do now, she thought as she turned toward the window, and lay looking out at the darkness of the night. Because now it wasn’t just she and Trace who stood to be really hurt and disappointed if things didn’t work out, their four boys were involved, too. They were swiftly becoming a unified group. As much as they all longed for a complete family again, it would be hell, giving them that, then having to take it away

  “I can’t believe it’s still raining this hard,” he murmured after a while.

  Neither could Susannah. It was a tempest. “Do you think we should call the boys?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to check on them.” Trace picked up the hunting-lodge telephone on the nightstand and punched in a number. He sat up against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to his waist. “Hi, Nate. How are things at the house?” He paused, listening intently, then said affably, “Sure. Put her on.”

 
Her? Susannah thought.

  “Hi.” Trace listened some more. A worried frown began to crease his handsome face.

  Susannah was not used to being cut out of the action. “What’s going on?” she whispered anxiously.

  “Hold on a minute, Gillian.” Trace rested the phone on his shoulder and covered the receiver with his palm. “Gillian Taylor stopped by the lake house a while ago, hoping to wait out the worst of the storm—she said she was out driving and got caught in it. She said we’ve got high water in several places on the ranch, and there are several places where the Silver River is spilling out of its banks.”

  In the background, Susannah and Trace could hear the boys conferring excitedly with the new logging-camp chef. Their questions all came at once: “Is it white water now?” “What happens if it keeps flooding?” “Can we see the river?” “Does it look cool or just scary?”

  Trace put the receiver back to his ear. “Gillian, tell the boys that I’ll take them to see the river tomorrow, when the danger passes. Until then, they are not to go near it,” he ordered firmly.

  He waited while Gillian relayed the message.

  As Trace continued to listen, he began to relax. “All right,” he said eventually. “Yes, I agree, that’s probably best. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  The morning?

  “Okay, ‘bye.”

  “What do you mean we’ll see them in the morning?” Susannah repeated, shocked, as soon as Trace hung up.

  “Gillian offered to stay with the boys until we could get back tomorrow morning. Since driving conditions are treacherous at best at the moment, I said okay.”

  “Without conferring with me first?” Susannah asked, beginning to feel a little irritated.

  “We have no choice.”

  Susannah sighed. She had thought things were different. That this time they would be equal partners. Now she wasn’t so sure. Though she had no doubt he cared for her in his way, Trace seemed to be simply taking over everything. Telling all four boys what they could and could not do. Deciding the two of them would stay the night in the hunting lodge without even asking her what she wanted to do. In buying her the computer and putting the new software on it, he had even inserted himself in her business life.