The Twenty-Four-Hour Bride

by Day Leclaire

  He stood to one side. “If you’re positive it won’t bother you, then come on in.”

  “Here?”

  “Why not? You can sit on the couch and tell me about your day while you nurse.”

  Having made the offer, she couldn’t very well change her mind now. She refused to hurt him like that. How ironic. Two short months ago, she wouldn’t have worried about his feelings. Heck, she’d never have even thought about them. How could you hurt someone without feelings?

  Nick. Without feelings.

  She perched on the edge of the couch and slanted him a curious glance. She’d known him for five long years, had believed implicitly and without question that he was no different than his computer. The idea seemed ludicrous now.

  “Move over,” Nick prompted.

  He took over the far end of the couch and twisted into a reclining position against the armrest. He dropped one long leg to the floor and he extended the other the length of the couch. Then he patted the V between his thighs. She didn’t hesitate, but allowed herself to be spooned into the narrow opening. The fit, as always, was delicious. He took Abigail from her as she opened her blouse and unsnapped the front clasp of her bra.

  “Nick?”

  “What?”

  “You’re not like Gem, are you?”

  “Sure I am.” He settled the baby in her arms. “We’re two of a kind, sweetheart. Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”

  “Probably.” Abigail latched onto Dani’s nipple, suckling contentedly. “But you’re not. I realize that now.”

  “What are you trying to say, honey?”

  She didn’t know. She truly didn’t. A change of subject seemed in order. “What’s that glass behind your desk?”

  “A video monitor. The one in here is capable of displaying sixteen different images. The other rooms can only access one at a time.”

  “There’s one in every room?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you monitor?”

  “Anything that’s connected to the video system. The house, the office. Television. Even some of our clients whose contracts call for it.”

  “I didn’t realize.” She stiffened. “Wait a minute. Are all the rooms on the video system? Do they all have camera access?”

  “Yes. If there’s an emergency Gem will turn on the camera so I can evaluate the situation.”

  “But she isn’t taping all the time?”

  “No. She only tapes when authorized.” He paused, then released his breath in a gusty sigh. “I guess you should know that there are cameras in Peter’s house, too. He asked to have them installed when I put in Gem. But he never activated them.”

  After Abbey was born, Nick had connected his house with hers, Dani recalled. It only took a moment for the next logical question to occur. “Did you? Did you activate them?” His arms tightened, as though to prevent her from escaping his hold. She knew what his answer would be even before he spoke.

  “Yes.”

  He said the word so softly, with such regret, that her surge of anger died before it was fully born. She eased Abbey from her breast. “Why, Nick? Why would you invade my privacy like that?”

  “The first time was when you had trouble nursing Abigail.” A rough quality had entered his voice. For a man without emotions, something about that incident had had a powerful effect on him. “Gem told me there was an emergency so I had her turn on the camera. You were sitting in the rocking chair crying almost as loudly as the baby.”

  And as a result, he’d come running, racing from his house so fast he’d arrived with only a pair of hastily donned jeans, his keys and a burning determination to help. Still, she had to know. “Were there any other times you had Gem turn on the camera?”

  “Yeah.” He shifted, the muscles of his chest rippling against her back. “I’d look in on Abigail each morning. I’d watch her. Talk to her. Visit for a while. It was wrong. I knew it. But dammit, Dani. She’s my daughter. I wanted to see her. Not just a few times a week, but every day. Can you understand that?”

  “Yes, I can understand. But you should have asked, Nick.” Dani decided to take a risk, to try priming his pump. “You love Abbey, don’t you?”

  “She’s my daughter.” It was an oblique answer, at best.

  “But you love her, right?”

  He tensed. “I’d give my life for her,” he replied evenly. “I’d do everything in my power to protect her from harm. I want to be part of her life and have her part of mine.”

  “Say the words, Nick. Just say them.”

  Silence greeted her demand, and she closed her eyes.

  It hurt. It hurt more than she could have imagined. She’d been so certain, so positive he felt what she did. Everyone experienced emotions. Nick couldn’t be so different, despite his childhood. He just hadn’t found a way of expressing those feelings, didn’t understand the significance of them. If only she could find a way to reach him, a way to break through the ice holding him prisoner. A way to prime that damned pump. She couldn’t believe the man she loved incapable of loving her in return.

  Why not? an insidious voice demanded. Peter hadn’t. The truth hit like a crippling blow.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and Dani bowed her head. “It isn’t enough,” she whispered. “I can’t live like thiš. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  She bolted from the couch, Abigail held tight within her arms. Nick came after her. She sensed his pursuit, heard his swift footfalls striking against the hardwood floor. He caught up with her in the nursery, catching her by the shoulders. He slipped Abigail from her grasp and he settled the baby in the crib. Then he turned his attention to Dani, his gaze cold and remote.

  “What do you want from me? What more can I offer that I haven’t already given?”

  “Why did you make love to me? On New Year’s Eve, when I came here to give you those financial documents. Why did you kiss me?”

  “You know why.”

  “Desire?”

  “In part.”

  “Was that all?” She searched his face, desperate to find some clue to his innermost thoughts, some sign that he felt something. Anything. “Did that night mean so little to you? Was it just a fun romp to welcome in the New Year?”

  “I never said that.”

  “You’ve never said anything!”

  She remembered that night, remembered how gentle he’d been, how passionate and alive. There’d been a hunger in his touch, a look in his eyes that told her he’d been waiting for her—waiting a lifetime to make her his. She’d tried to convince herself it hadn’t been real, that it had been part of a foolish fantasy. But still the hope that it might be more wouldn’t die.

  Dani shook her head. “I couldn’t have imagined the connection between us. It couldn’t have just been wishful thinking. I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it!”

  “Words? Is that what you can’t live without? You want sweet lies? The kind Peter told you?”

  “No!”

  “Or is this what you really want?”

  He took her mouth, took it with hunger and demand and a poignant plea. He lifted her close, held her so she couldn’t possibly mistake his reaction to her touch. He wanted her with a desperation that matched her own—powerful, total and utterly overwhelming.

  “No, Nick. We can’t.”

  “We already have. Our daughter is proof positive of that.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s right. You don’t love me. You don’t even love your daughter.”

  A muscle jerked in his cheek. “I’m here. I’m committed to making this marriage work. I’m doing my best for you and Abigail. And we want each other. Can you deny it?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “No, I can’t deny it,” she admitted in a raw voice. “But that doesn’t make it right. It didn’t when Abbey was conceived and it doesn’t now.”

  “We have ten more months before our agreement ends. Do you really intend to go through all that time celibate?”

  “I’d planned t
o,” she admitted with a watery laugh.

  “Dani, please. Let’s make this marriage a real one.”

  “A real marriage is supposed to last forever. But Peter didn’t want forever.” She fixed him with a steady look. “Do you, Nick?”

  He closed his eyes against the wistful question. “Peter was a fool. He wasn’t worthy of either your love or your trust.”

  “You haven’t answered. Do you want forever?”

  The question hung between them. He tensed, and she saw the rejection, the burning desire to brush her words aside. His expression tightened, closed over as it had so many times before. “I won’t walk out on you and Abigail. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy. You can trust me, Dani. I won’t let you down.”

  “And love?”

  He didn’t reply, and she knew it was up to her to decide. Could she live without love? She had with Peter. And who could predict the future? Perhaps love would come later, building over time. Perhaps she’d eventually break through, ease the icy hold on his heart, thaw it with her warmth. She could trust Nick not to hurt her. After all, he wasn’t Peter.

  He must have sensed her decision. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the bedroom. Once through the door, he set her down. Dani stood in front of him, reading in his eyes what must also be reflected in her own. They were two wary people, both wanting to reach out, both hesitant to do so. Afraid to risk that final step forward.

  She took a deep breath, suddenly aware that her blouse gaped open. She’d been so upset by their discussion, she’d forgotten to button it after nursing Abbey. Nor had she bothered to fasten her bra. Nick noticed, as well. Slowly he reached out, easing the cotton edges aside. She didn’t protest, but allowed him to look his fill.

  “You’ve changed.”

  She released a soft laugh. “Having a baby will do that.”

  “I want to see the other changes. All of them.” He pushed her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms. The bra followed. His fingers danced across her erect nipples, circling the dusky bud. “They’re larger. Darker.” He palmed the weight. “And fuller.”

  A shiver chased through her. “Do you mind?”

  “Not even a little. When we make love, will your milk come in?”

  Surprised, she shook her head. “I—I don’t know.”

  “I guess we’ll find out together.” His hands slipped lower. “I’m going to finish undressing you now.”

  She didn’t answer, simply nodded in nervous agreement. He found the button to her jeans, parted it and lowered the zip. Tugging them down her hips, he crouched in front of her so he could lift first one foot free, then the other. She dug her hands into his hair, keenly aware that her only covering was a triangle of thin white cotton held in place by a sliver of elastic. She trembled.

  To her surprise, he didn’t strip her right away. Instead, he settled his palm on the slight swell of her belly, his hand warming her abdomen. “It’s hard to believe that a few months ago, Abigail lived here.”

  “Hard for you to believe. Not so hard for me.”

  “I wish I’d been here for all of it. I would have liked to see the various stages of your pregnancy.” He glanced up, his eyes a brilliant flash of blue. “Maybe next time.”

  “I’m not back in shape yet, and you’re already talking about a next time?”

  “I grew up all alone. I don’t want that to happen to Abigail. I want her to enjoy a family like yours rather than suffer one like mine.” He cupped her hips and brushed his mouth across the faint silver lines tracking her stomach.

  “Skin runs,” she explained with a wry laugh. “They’re like runs in your panty hose, only worse. Unfortunately, I can’t throw my skin away and buy a new one like I do stockings.”

  “In that case, consider them war wounds. Badges of honor. Besides, no one will see them but me.” It wasn’t a question, but a declaration of fact. “And I think they’re beautiful.”

  Before she could comment, he finished undressing her, hooking his thumbs in the narrow elastic band of her briefs and tugging them down her legs. She should have felt vulnerable and exposed. But she didn’t. Thanks to Nick, she felt beautiful and desired. He rose and stripped, each movement spare and economical. His shirt took the same path as hers, followed by his jeans. When he was through, they stood without covering or artifice.

  And then they came together, their movements fluid and certain, rediscovering the secret places as they turned memories into reality. Her fingers slipped through the thatch of brown hair covering his chest while he hungrily supped on her breasts. When she molded the corded dip and curve of muscle and sinew, he heated the soft swell of her belly and thighs with his breath. And as she followed the line of his lean hips to trace the shadowed delta caged between his thighs, he cupped her bottom, drawing her home.

  Wedding sheets covered his bed, and he lowered her to them.

  They’d fought this moment, fought it even as they rushed toward it, driven by a tidal wash of desire. She opened herself to him, swirling her hips with earthy grace, capturing him between silken thighs. He planned to take it slow, she could see it in his eyes. But he could no more slow this storm than he could the one that battered them last New Year’s Eve. He drove forward, planting himself deep inside, sliding along a path of unbearable sweetness.

  His breath caught, blew hot against her throat. He palmed her hips, his fingers digging into the curve of her backside. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She shook her head, a tangle of dark curls spilling across the ivory sheets. “You’ll only hurt me if you stop.”

  “Nothing can be this good.”

  “More could be this good. More would be even better.”

  He sheathed himself deep within her, rushing toward a desperate culmination, unable to stop or slow or turn back. She wrapped herself around him, struggling to absorb him, drinking his essence into her very pores. It didn’t last, couldn’t last, no matter how she might wish otherwise. She could feel the pull of completion, feel the slow tilt toward oblivion. And in that instant she saw past the shield that protected him from the world, saw his desire to give her all he had. The final explosion hit them. Hard. It was a benediction of touch, a joyous celebration, a melding of heart and soul. It had been nearly a year. Interminable months of emotional dearth.

  But finally, at long last, those lonely months had come to an end. Her future lay within his arms, if only he’d allow it. First he had to find a way to release the love he kept safely hidden away, just as she had to find a way to tempt it forth.

  When Dani awoke, it was dark. Nick held her close, practically surrounding her with his warmth. “Lights,” she whispered. “Ten watts.”

  A soft glow lit the room, and she eased onto her back, turning her head so she could study Nick as he slept. Even in repose, he didn’t relax, his expression still guarded. Masked. The times she’d managed to peek behind that mask had been few. She could count them on one hand. There were the two times they’d made love and two or three rare moments when she’d come upon him with Abigail. On those occasions, a desperate yearning had ripped apart his expression, proving what she’d long suspected. No matter how vehemently he denied it, he was a man of deep emotions.

  Prime the pump. The words resonated through her. All she had to do was find a way to prime the pump.

  Gently, she eased from his embrace, gripped by an inexplicable restlessness. She slipped on a nightshirt and padded into Abbey’s room, but it wasn’t time to nurse. So she hung over the crib railing, watching her daughter sleep, touching the rosy cheek. Then she trailed through the house, eventually wandering into the living room. She stood before the huge picture window, sensing the approach of dawn, feeling the gradual awakening clear to her soul.

  It was like her love for Nick. It had always been there, hidden from view, waiting through a five-year night before breaking the horizon with heartwarming radiance. She stood perfectly still, caught in that breathless moment between night’s demise and day’s reb
irth, watching as a pale, golden beacon seeped across the sky, storming the blackness.

  “MRS. COLTER?”

  “Yes, Gem?”

  “IS ANYTHING UNUSUAL OCCURRING?”

  Oh, yes, she wanted to cry. Two years of dark are at an end, and morning has finally arrived. A quick laugh reflected her joy. “No, Gem. Nothing unusual is occurring.”

  “DO YOU HAVE ANY REQUIREMENTS?”

  The question caught her by surprise. “Why do you ask?”

  “MR. COLTER REQUESTED I ALERT HIM IF YOU NEEDED ANYTHING.”

  “Not a thing.” No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a question she had, one that Nick had never answered to her satisfaction. Something made her hesitate, though. Later, she’d put it down to a grim precognition. But despite that momentary qualm, the question tumbled free. “Gem, why is SSI in financial trouble?”

  “ACCESSING. LOSS OF ASSETS RESULTED IN REDUCTION OF NET WORTH. FINANCIAL STATEMENTS AVAILABLE THROUGH MAIN COMPUTER TERMINAL.”

  She frowned. “Loss of assets? How did that happen?”

  “ASSETS WERE ILLEGALLY REMOVED FROM SSI”

  It took a moment for the full significance to sink in. When it did, a desperate foreboding gripped her. “Give detailed explanation, Gem.”

  “EXPLANATION REQUIRES LEVEL ONE SECURITY ACCESS.”

  “I have level one security access!” Her voice broke, reflecting her tension. “Now explain what you meant.”

  “PROCESSING.” It seemed to take forever. Finally, Gem came back on-line. “FUNDS FROM THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNTS WERE ILLEGALLY REMOVED BY MR. PETER SHERATON. ACCOUNT NUMBER—”

  “End transmission,” Nick ordered.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DANI SWUNG AROUND, confronting Nick. “Is it true?” she asked numbly. “Did Peter embezzle money from SSI?”

  “It’s true.”

  “How? When?”

  “The day of his death.”

  “You haven’t recovered the funds, have you?” Her mouth trembled, and she pressed her lips together, struggling for composure. “That’s why we’re in financial trouble.”