The Twenty-Four-Hour Bride

by Day Leclaire

  “AFFIRMATIVE, MR. COLTER.”

  Instantly the clear, melodic sound of a soprano sax filled the room. Nick rubbed her shoulders and neck in rhythm to the music, his thumbs finding the various knots in her muscles and working them free. After a few minutes, Dani stopped resisting and allowed his strong hands to work their magic. Lord, she was tired. So much had happened in the past few days, not the least of which was the newborn daughter she held clasped to her breast and the newlywed husband wrapped all around her.

  “Let go, sweetheart.” His voice was low and rough, just inches from her ear. “Lean against me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Without thought, she relaxed into his embrace. Abigail whimpered and latched onto the nipple once again. Dani froze as a tiny tingle rippled through her breast, an odd sort of surge she’d never experienced before. The baby began sucking avidly.

  “Oh!” Dani blinked in astonishment.

  “Is that a good oh?”

  “It’s a very good oh.”

  Nick’s nimble fingers stilled. “Did your milk come in?”

  “That’s an understatement.” She peeked at the front of her soaked nightgown. It would appear the on switch for this particular pump controlled both spigots. How odd. She’d never realized. “I think your priming method is an unqualified success. I’m leaking all over the place.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Everything will wash.”

  Pleasurable sounds filled the room—Abigail’s wet suckling providing an interesting accompaniment to Kenny G’s poignant wail. Dani burrowed into Nick’s embrace and closed her eyes again, unbelievably content now that this first roadblock had been successfully hurdled. His arms encircled her and Abigail, ringing them in warmth and security.

  She turned her head, and her cheek grazed the fine brown hair dusting his chest. Once upon a lifetime ago, she’d slept, pillowed in just that spot. Her dreams had been sweet, and enchantment had filled the air. “How did you know I needed help?” she asked, more to distract herself than because she really wanted to know.

  “Gem alerted me.”

  He caught her by surprise with that one. “I didn’t realize the two houses were linked.”

  “They weren’t until last night.”

  Dani opened her eyes. “You put us on the same system?”

  “The minute Abigail was born.”

  The minute... “How long did that take?”

  He yawned. “Most of the night.”

  “And then you went out and picked up a car seat.”

  “First the car seat, then any family.”

  He spoke without inflection. Still, she sensed the steely undercurrent beneath his words. From the minute he’d arrived on her doorstep and discovered her pregnancy, he’d done everything within his power to take care of her and Abigail, to push his way into her life and that of his daughter. Every step of the way, he’d met her fierce resistance with an equally fierce determination. Undoubtedly, his goal was to make himself indispensable. And although she might find his take-charge attitude overwhelming at times, even presumptuous, she’d never once doubted the sincerity of his motives.

  He just wanted what she couldn’t give.

  “How did Gem know to contact you tonight?”

  “I told her to alert me if anything unusual happened.”

  She recalled Gem’s odd questions. “You mean, if I deviated from my normal routine?”

  “Something like that.” He tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Does it bother you?”

  She decided to answer honestly. “A little.”

  “Perhaps you should consider this. Since you won’t move in with me, I need to know you and Abigail are safe. Gem can make certain of that. Anytime you want me, just tell Gem, and she’ll track me down.”

  Dani lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed the tiny back until she’d coaxed free a bubbly burp. “You always have to be in control, don’t you, Nick?”

  “If taking care of you and Abigail means being in control, then yes, I do. You’re my family now. Don’t ask me to ignore that. I can’t do it.”

  “It’s not just us. It’s the business, your personal life, even Gem. What do you suppose would happen if you let go a little?”

  “I know what did happen the one time I lost control. You became pregnant, and my daughter was almost given another man’s name.” He didn’t wait for her response—assuming she could have come up with one. “Now you tell me something. What would you have done if I hadn’t come over tonight?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I guess I’d have called my mother or the hospital and asked their advice. And if I still hadn’t been successful breast-feeding Abbey, I’d have given her some formula.”

  “And you’d have missed out on nursing. Isn’t having that experience worth sacrificing a little of your privacy?”

  “I suppose so.” She sighed. “All right, yes. I’m glad you came.”

  “If you moved in with me, I wouldn’t have to drive over in the middle of the night the next time there’s a problem.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Nick. You’ve gained enough ground for one evening. Let it go.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll drop it.” His voice was level, but she heard the subtle warning in his tone. “For now.”

  Gently, he released her. She couldn’t help but stare as he stood and stretched, every inch the picture of raw masculine grace and power. His blond hair was rumpled, a fascinating jumble of dark and light streaks, and it pleased her to discover that disorder had managed to creep into this one tiny part of his life. Of course, she couldn’t say the same about the rest of him. His body had been beautifully designed and crafted, his shoulders every bit as broad as she remembered, the skin still a deep golden hue. The brown hair matting his chest formed an inverted pyramid, vanishing into his low-slung jeans. She followed the line and then glanced down the length of his denim-clad legs. Sudden amusement helped ease the sharp pang of desire.

  “Left in a hurry, didn’t you?” she commented.

  “What?”

  “To come over here. You left in a hurry.”

  “I floored it. Why?”

  “You forgot your shoes.”

  “And my shirt. And my wallet.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? How would you know?”

  “Five years of observation have taught me a few things about you.”

  He shook his head. “I may have been your business partner for all those years. I may be your husband now. And you may have pigeonholed me as a result. But, sweetheart, you don’t know me.”

  She shivered at the arctic turn his voice had taken. “What don’t I know, Nick? Explain it.”

  “Move in with me, and you’ll learn soon enough.”

  For the first time, she sensed danger. Sensed it with an instinct she’d never known existed. It stirred within her, springing to life as surely as the instinct to subdue and conquer stirred within Nick. Her mouth went dry, while an unnerving combination of fear and excitement unfurled deep within her loins. His nostrils flared as though testing the air, and a strange certainty filled her. He was drinking in the scent of her, tuning his senses to her unique essence. Heaven help her! He was imprinting her in his memory for some time in the future when he could act on the helpless desire she’d unwittingly revealed.

  “Abbey’s fallen asleep.” Her comment escaped in a nervous rush.

  His smile flashed within the soft light of the bedroom, filled with hungry knowledge. “Why don’t I change the little squeaker and put her to bed? You need to get some rest.”

  She didn’t object when he slipped the baby from her arms—until she realized how exposed it left her. Her nightgown gaped in the front. And where it didn’t gape, the thin cotton clung, damp from excess milk. Nick didn’t look away, but stared with undisguised fascination. Her appearance had changed over the past nine months, motherhood ripening her curves so she could nourish his child, altering the shape and text
ure and color of her breasts. Even relieved of milk, they were larger than before. Dark blue veins showed through the paleness of her skin, and the nipples had enlarged, darkening to dusk.

  “I’ve never seen—I never realized—” He broke off, dragging air into his lungs. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  She gathered the edges of her nightgown and pulled them closed. What sort of response should she offer? Somehow saying thank-you didn’t strike her as appropriate. Nor was this a situation her mother had covered in any of their various conversations about love and marriage. “Are you...are you leaving after you put Abbey down?” she asked awkwardly.

  “I’m sure as hell not staying here.”

  She should let it go. She really should. But she couldn’t. She was driven to ask the question she’d be better off avoiding. “Why?”

  “I won’t sleep in another man’s bed.”

  Her mouth tightened. “That wasn’t an invitation. And just as a matter of record, we never shared this bed.”

  “But you shared this room.” He didn’t bother to conceal his distaste. “You shared this house.”

  “Is that so bad?” she asked in distress. “I can’t pretend our marriage never happened.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” He cradled Abigail against his shoulder with a naturalness surprising in a day-old father. “But I won’t take his place.”

  “You can never do that,” she stated. And it was true.

  Peter had been a boy, playing at life. Nick was a man, doing a man’s job.

  He studied her for a long minute. “I’m sorry. I know you must miss him.”

  It was a generous comment, especially considering how he’d felt about Peter. But the sad truth was, she didn’t miss her late husband in the least. She regretted his death, true. She just didn’t miss him. Not at all. “I have no complaints.”

  He dismissed the subject by turning away. “Change your nightgown and try to get some sleep, sweetheart. I suspect our daughter will want another feeding before long. Contact me if you need help again.”

  “I will.” He started for the door and she called to him, allowing impulse to override caution. “Nick?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Just so you know. You’ve given me far more than Peter ever did.” At his questioning look, she nodded toward their daughter. “I’ve wanted a baby for years. I was desperate to have one. Peter didn’t give me Abigail. In fact, he couldn’t, even if he’d wanted to. You did that all on your own.”

  “What do you mean, couldn’t?”

  “Peter was sterile.”

  Shock glittered briefly in Nick’s eyes. “Was he?” A curious expression sparked in his gaze. “How very interesting.”

  And with that enigmatic comment, he left the room.

  Nick settled Abigail in her crib and stood for a long moment studying his daughter. “Good night, sweet pea,” he murmured, spinning the nursery rhyme mobile hanging over one end of the crib.

  “MR. COLTER?”

  He smiled at the computer’s attempt to imitate his whisper. “Yes, Gem. What is it?”

  “EXPLAIN THE CORRELATION BETWEEN FEMALE OFFSPRING UNIT, KENNY G AND SUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT AT NOURISHMENT.”

  “Kenny G helped Dani relax enough to feed the baby.”

  “EARLIER ATTEMPTS WERE NOT SUCCESSFUL?”

  “No, Gem. They weren’t.”

  “MUSIC IS NECESSARY FOR SUCCESSFUL NOURISHMENT TECHNIQUE?”

  “It would appear so.” Silence reigned, and he gave Abigail a final lingering look. “Don’t worry, little one. It won’t be long now. I promise.”

  Dani gritted her teeth. “I don’t care what Mr. Colter told you. Mrs. Colter has been listening to nothing but Kenny G for the past two weeks. Now turn it oft!”

  “KENNY G IS REQUIRED FOR SUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT TO NOURISH FEMALE OFFSPRING UNIT.”

  “Kenny G is no longer necessary for successful attempt to nourish female offspring unit. In fact, if you don’t shut it off right now, the attempt to nourish female offspring unit will fail. Do you understand me, you pathetic heap of miswired circuitry?”

  “PLEASE USE PROPER FORM OF ADDRESS WHEN MAKING A REQUEST.”

  “Gem! Turn off that music.” When obedience wasn’t immediate, she snapped. “Security one alert. Inform Mr. Colter that I’m deviating from my usual routine.”

  “PLEASE CONFIRM. SECURITY ONE ALERT IN PROGRESS?”

  “Confirmed!”

  Fifteen seconds later, the phone rang. It was Nick. “I’m on my way. What’s wrong?”

  “Tell Gem to turn off Kenny G.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me! I don’t care what else she plays, but if I hear another saxophone, I’m going to take a hatchet to the wall and start chopping up electrical wires until I’ve managed to disconnect her.”

  “Gem!”

  Instantly Mozart blasted through the speakers. With a sigh, Dani set the rocking chair in motion. “Thank you,” she said, dropping the telephone receiver into its cradle. Apparently, there was more than one way to skin a computer.

  Nick stood in front of the blank TV screen, struggling to do the right thing. To make the moral choice. To take the higher road. He managed for all of thirty seconds.

  “Monitor on,” he rasped, giving in to the baser side of his nature.

  The picture blossomed to life. Dani sat in the rocking chair in Abigail’s room, nursing their three-week-old daughter. The camera was a good one, giving perfect color and sharp detail. It zoomed in. From the creamy, blue-veined skin of his wife’s breast to the tiny fingers splayed across that plump curve, the image came through in full detail. Abigail gazed at her mother, sucking contentedly, a tiny line of milk leaking from the corner of her puckered mouth. Every few minutes, she’d wave her hand. But always it returned to pat the source of her nourishment.

  His reaction to the scene was instant and unmistakable.

  “Sound,” he ordered in a voice he barely recognized as his own.

  “MR. COLTER?”

  “I said sound, Gem.”

  “IS SOMETHING UNUSUAL HAPPENING?”

  He grimaced. “Yeah. You might say that.”

  “YOU ARE DEVIATING FROM YOUR NORMAL ROUTINE?”

  “Yes, Gem. I’m deviating something fierce.”

  “UNDERSTOOD.”

  “Gem? The sound, dammit!”

  For some reason she didn’t respond. On the screen, Dani’s head jerked up, and he realized she was talking. He frowned, thoroughly irritated. If Gem had done as he’d requested, he’d be able to hear what his wife said. An instant later, she stood and hurried from the room.

  “Just great. Where the hell is she—” The phone beside him shrilled, and he picked it up, swearing beneath his breath. “Colter,” he bit out. “What?”

  “Nick? It’s Dani. Is everything all right?”

  Caught off guard, it took him a moment to respond. “Fine. Why?”

  “Gem told me you were deviating. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

  He closed his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Then why are you deviating?”

  “I am not deviating.”

  “Gem said—”

  “When did you start listening to Gem?”

  “Starting right now. I’m coming over.”

  Anger flashed. “If you show up here, it’s to stay. You got that?”

  A sigh slipped through the phone lines, and he felt as though she’d touched him, stroked him, wound herself around and through him. His hand clenched, and he fought the desire battling for release. He burned for her, burned to turn that sigh to a moan, to reacquaint himself with every precious inch of her.

  They’d made love twice the night Abigail was conceived, once in haste and desperation. But the second time... Heaven help him. It haunted his dreams still.

  That second time had been unreal. He’d never had a woman so open or so honest, a woman who’d given her body with such unstinting joy. More, her hear
t and soul had been passed into his keeping. He held them still. Unfortunately, she was off-limits.

  At least, for now.

  “Please, Nick,” she whispered. “Let me help.”

  “Not this time. Any deviations are all my own.”

  “It’s a one-way street, is that it? You come running the minute Abbey or I need help, but we’re not allowed to do the same?”

  “Marriage is a two-way street, wife. Come if that’s what you want.” He paused a beat. “But once you do, you’re not leaving.”

  “I can’t do that,” she retorted in a low tone. He could see on the television screen that she practically dragged the words free, see the pain they caused her. “I won’t live another empty marriage.”

  “It won’t be empty, Dani.”

  “Don’t you understand? You’re as incapable of emotion as Peter. He paddled around in the shallow end of life. It never occurred to him that there might be deeper, richer waters to explore. You’re aware of those depths, I’ll give you that. But you—”

  He fought past the knot in his throat. “Go on.”

  “You avoid the deep end, too.”

  How little she knew. “What’s your point?”

  “You’ve buried your emotions so deep and for so long, I’m not even sure you’d recognize one if it walked up and socked you in the jaw.”

  His hands clenched. Once. Twice. A third time. Finally he gained enough control to ask, “Finish it, Dani. Say what you have to say.”

  “I won’t have Abigail live that sort of barren existence. I grew up surrounded by love and laughter and warmth. And I’ve—” Her voice broke. He watched her image on the monitor as she struggled for control, clasping the baby close as though to draw sustenance from her daughter’s life force. “I’ve lived in the cold for so long. I can’t go back to that. It would kill me.”

  Nick closed his eyes, unable to utter a single word. Control. He needed absolute control. It wasn’t easy to achieve. His mouth twisted. Fortunately, practice made perfect. At long last, he opened his eyes. “I understand,” he replied calmly. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt you or Abigail.”

  “Nick—”