Maternity Bride

by Maureen Child

  "Didn't I just say so?"

  "Where?" Denise asked, craning her neck to see over the heads of the people blocking the entrance to the room. Patrick? Patrick had wanted a leave of absence. He wouldn't have returned simply to attend a cocktail party, no matter how important.

  Would he?

  "He's in there somewhere." Richard paused and pointed at a small group of men. "There. In the gray suit."

  Denise looked at the man's back. Short, black hair. Wide shoulders. Nicely tailored suit. It could be Patrick, of course. She couldn't be sure until he turned around.

  "No more of this leaving nonsense, Denise," her father said hotly. "This is the Torrance party. You are a Torrance."

  Denise smiled at him. "For now," she said.

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  She kept her gaze fixed on the tall man in gray. Silently willing him to turn and look at her, she went on talking to her father. "You might as well know everything," she said. "Someone asked me to marry him a week ago."

  "What?" Confusion settled on Richard's features. "Who?"

  She tore her gaze from the man just inside the ballroom and looked directly at the older man standing beside her. Courage, she thought. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she said, "The father of my child."

  Richard Torrance's eyes widened until she thought they might pop from his head. His brow furrowed and bright splotches of color stained his cheeks.

  A couple of weeks ago, she would have been terrified. Now, she only hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack or something.

  "You're…you're…"

  "Pregnant," she finished for him. "With your first grandchild."

  His jaw dropped.

  Denise patted her father's arm gently. "It's all right Grandpa, you'll get used to it."

  "Grandpa?"

  "The only problem here is," Denise said and shifted her gaze back to the man in gray. He seemed to have drifted a bit closer, though his back was still turned to her. "I don't know if he still wants me."

  "And why wouldn't he?" Richard wanted to know.

  She threw him a quick smile. "Because I drive him crazy, he says. I kept insisting that we were all wrong for each other. That he was the wrong man for me."

  "Well, is he?" Richard demanded.

  "No, Father," she said, her gaze locked on the man in gray. "He's the only right man for me."

  "Well then, he'll do the right thing by you, too."

  "Whether he does or not, you should know that I'm going to raise this baby. All alone, if I have to."

  "Don't be foolish, Denise," her father snapped, loudly enough that several heads turned in their direction.

  She looked up at her father, but before she could speak, she heard a familiar, deep voice say, "You can't talk to her Like that."

  Denise and her father turned at the same time to watch Patrick Ryan walk up to them, a furious scowl on his features.

  "This is family business, Patrick," Richard said. "I'll thank you to keep out of it."

  A small crowd formed around them.

  Denise noticed them, but didn't care. She only had eyes for one man. Mike Ryan, masquerading as his own twin. She watched his jaw twitch with the effort to keep from shouting at her father.

  Her gaze moved over him quickly. He had cut his hair, bought a suit and was pretending to be someone he wasn't all for her sake. Shame rippled through her. Because she had been a coward, the man she loved had given up a part of himself to be what he thought she wanted him to be.

  "You didn't have to cut the ponytail," she whispered.

  "It doesn't matter," he answered, oblivious to the people around them.

  "Everything about you matters," she countered and instinctively walked toward him. Reaching up, she pulled his head down close and kissed him. Hard.

  Mike fought down the urge to hold her. To grab her to him and keep her so tightly against him that she would never be able to get away again. It had been hell, avoiding her for the last three days. But he'd had to.

  They had had to face each other at this cocktail party. With her in her element. He had thought it would be the one sure way to know if she wanted him. But it had been a stupid idea. Nothing was solved. Yes, she was kissing him in front of everyone. But was it only because tonight, he looked the part of the rising young businessman?

  Denise finally pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. He stared down into those blue depths and felt his soul move into hers.

  Smiling, she reached for his tie and quickly undid the careful Windsor knot. Then she unbuttoned his collar button and lifted one hand high enough to ruffle her fingers through his perfect haircut.

  "I love you," she whispered, speaking directly to his heart. "The real you. Motorcycles, black leather, ponytail and all."

  A tentative smile lifted one corner of his mouth. "You don't need suits and ties in your life?"

  She shook her head "I never want you to change for me, Mike. All I want is for you to love me."

  His chest tightened. Pride and love swelled up inside him as he reached up to yank the hated tie from his neck. Tossing it into the air, he grinned. "No problem, baby," he said, through a suddenly dry throat.

  "Denise, are you going to tell me what is going on here?" Richard sounded exasperated, but surprisingly calm, all things considered.

  "Dad," she announced loudly, taking one of Mike's hands and setting it at her waist, "I'd like you to meet Mike Ryan. He owns Ryan's Custom Cycles and is probably the best bike mechanic in the state." She grinned at her father then. "He's also Patrick's brother and the man I'm going to marry—if he'll still have me."

  For an answer, Mike spun her around in his arms. Looking deeply into her eyes, he spoke quietly, not caring who heard. "I didn't want to love you, Denise. But now I don't want to live without you." He smoothed his fingertips down the line of her cheek. "Marry me, baby. Marry me and let me love you forever."

  Tears swam in her eyes. He held his breath, waiting. When she nodded, he yanked her into his arms and bent his head to claim a kiss designed to sear her soul.

  A woman in their audience sighed plaintively.

  At last, Mike lifted his head to smile down at his almost wife.

  "Custom Cycles, eh?" Richard said, loudly enough to get his soon-to-be son-in-law's attention. "You could probably use a good accounting firm, my boy."

  Mike grinned. At least the man had the sense to surrender when there was nothing left to do. Tucking Denise close to his left side, Mike stretched his right hand out to his future father-in-law. As the other man took it in a firm shake, Mike told him, "Thanks. But I've already got a good accountant."

  Silly to have waited so long to get married, Denise told herself as she turned to look up into her groom's eyes. But she'd wanted to clear all of her client's business affairs so that she and Mike could take a real honeymoon. Now she and the gorgeous, ponytailed man in the black tuxedo were just four hours away from their flight to Tahiti.

  His gaze moved over her hungrily, lovingly and she felt the shock of amazement right down to her toes. Not only did he enjoy the changes her body was going through, this miraculous man actually seemed to find her swollen belly erotic. At that salacious thought, she tightened her grip on the bouquet she still held in her right hand and stretched out her left to Mike, eager to finish the ceremony and start the marriage.

  He inhaled sharply as her fingers touched his. His thumb smoothed across her knuckles as the justice of the peace solemnly intoned the words that would bind Mike Ryan to this woman for the rest of his life.

  She looked beautiful. Her off-white dress—she'd insisted on ivory—was cinched beneath her breasts and draped lovingly across the mound of his child. A simple wreath of yellow carnations and white daisies encircled her head, making her look like an ancient goddess of summer.

  How in the hell had he ever gotten this lucky? he wondered and grinned down into blue eyes that held all the answers to every question he'd ever asked. Behind them, a small group of famil
y and friends held their collective breath expectantly as Mike slid a plain gold band onto Denise's finger.

  When the deed was done and all was official, they smiled at each other just before Mike gently placed his right hand on their baby. "I swear I will love you both forever," he whispered.

  She covered his hand with hers and rose up on her toes. When his mouth claimed hers, Denise realized that marriage was a very sexy thing!

  Epilogue

  "Take it easy, Mr. Torrance." Tina Dolan looked up at the older man pacing around the dimly lit hospital waiting room. "She's only been in there an hour or so. We could be here all night."

  "All night?" Richard paled and slumped down onto one of the hard plastic chairs littering the room. "This waiting business was a lot easier when I was a younger man," he mumbled.

  The late night quiet was overwhelming. Besides the Dolans and Richard Torrance, there was only a handful of people sprinkled around the big room.

  "Talk to him," Tina told her husband. "Take his mind off of things. This has got to be hardest on him, waiting for word about his only daughter."

  Bob Dolan never had to be asked more than once to start talking. Getting up, he walked across the room and took the chair next to the other man. "Y'know," he said, "I've been thinking about setting up some retirement accounts for me and Tina."

  Richard glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

  "Not gettin' any younger, y'know. Got to get a hedge on those 'golden years'."

  "That's a very good idea," Richard said and tossed an anxious glance at the double doors leading to the maternity ward.

  "So, what do you think we ought to invest in? Have any good ideas?" Bob prompted the man, hoping to strike a financial nerve. From what Mike said about his father-in-law, the man loved to talk business. "I was thinking about maybe sinking some cash into land."

  Richard's heavy gray eyebrows lifted slightly. "Property is certainly one way to go about safeguarding your future," he said. "But let me give you a few more tips…"

  "C'mon baby," Mike whispered close to her ear. "You're almost there. One more good push and you'll be finished."

  She looked at him and nodded. A sickly green cotton gown covered his T-shirt and jeans and he wore a matching cotton cap to cover the ponytail that was now fully grown back. She held his hand tightly and thanked God that he had wanted to be a part of the delivery. She didn't know how she would have gone through all of this without him.

  Denise's breath came in short, harsh, rasping breaths. A tearing discomfort settled low in her body and every instinct she possessed told her to push. But she was so tired.

  Not only was the baby arriving two weeks early, but the time from the first indication of a labor pain to this overwhelming pressure had taken only three hours. She had always thought a first baby took forever to be born. She had thought she would be prepared.

  She wasn't.

  "Mike," she gasped in the brief interval between pains, "what if we screw up? What if we're lousy parents?"

  He grinned at her. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "We're going to be great!"

  "All right, Mrs. Ryan," the doctor said. "Get ready to bear down and see your baby."

  "It's two weeks early," Denise managed to say as another pain began to build deep within her. "Will it be all right?"

  Kathryn Taylor smiled gently. "Two weeks is nothing to worry about."

  "Oh, Mike," Denise complained, "your parents will be so disappointed that they weren't here. And your brothers, too."

  "Patrick's here," he soothed her. "As for the others, when they do arrive, they'll have the pleasure of meeting the baby without having to wait."

  The pain grew and blossomed, opening inside her, making her strain and grit her teeth for battle.

  "I see the baby's head, Denise," the doctor crowed. "Almost there."

  Denise's breath came in short, hard gasps. Concentrating on her task, she only nodded to the doctor.

  "Now," Mike asked as he braced her into an almost sitting position, "aren't you glad we waited to find out the baby's sex?"

  Denise didn't answer him. She was far too busy. She felt Mike's strong arms holding her. She heard the doctor's encouraging voice. She felt a last incredible burst of energy rush through her body and when it came, she gathered it to her, gave one last mighty effort and pushed her child into the world.

  An indignant scream filled the room and someone laughed.

  She looked up into Mike's green eyes and found them teary. "Did you see him?" he whispered. "It's a boy, baby. We have a son."

  A son.

  She turned her face into his chest and his arms came around her in a gentle, fierce hug. In moments, a nurse was there beside the gurney, holding an incredibly tiny person wrapped up in a pale blue blanket.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Ryan," she said and placed the baby carefully into Denise's outstretched arms. "Meet your bouncing baby boy."

  Mike leaned down, kissed his son's forehead, then turned to kiss his wife. A wife. A son.

  "Have I thanked you lately?" he asked, oblivious to the rest of the people in the room.

  "For what?" she said through the tears blurring her vision.

  "For loving me."

  "You're welcome."

  "Hey, Mike!" A deep voice called from the doorway.

  They turned to see Patrick's head poke around the edge of the delivery room's double doors.

  "Pat!" Mike shouted.

  "Get out of here right now," one of the nurses ordered.

  Patrick only laughed at her. "So, what is it? Boy? Girl? Triplets?"

  Denise groaned dramatically.

  Mike said proudly, "It's a boy."

  The nurse rushed forward flapping a surgical towel at Patrick as if she were a bullfighter in the ring.

  Immediately, Patrick pulled his head back. But not before shouting, "I'll go tell everybody. I'll let you call Mom and Dad!"

  Turning back to his family, Mike shook his head and said ruefully, "How could we ever screw this up when we have so much help?"

  Denise accepted the kiss he gave her, then handed him his son. Mike held the tiny bundle as if his son were made of spun glass. When he looked at her through eyes that were filled with teary pride and happiness, Denise knew that sometimes loving the wrong man is the only right thing to do.