The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance)

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The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance) Page 9

by Leclaire, Day

“Fine with me. Let’s start with River. She wants a mother, you know.”

  “She wants you.”

  Her breath escaped in an exasperated sigh. “So what do we do? If I agree to play the part of her mother during your vacation, won’t it cause even more harm when her wish finally comes to an end?”

  “Possibly. Or perhaps she’ll realize that the fantasy isn’t as much fun as she’d hoped.”

  He could see her puzzling over his words, gradually putting the correct construction on them. “You think once I’ve been around her for a while she’ll decide that J.J., the person, isn’t as fun as Justice, the fairy?”

  “Are you?”

  “No,” she confessed. “Justice is my sister’s fantasy, not mine.”

  “It’s also River’s.”

  She turned sharply away, but not before he saw the desolation that tainted her expression. “Too bad Jacq isn’t still available,” she said with a lightness that didn’t quite ring true. “She’d have been the perfect mother. She’s imaginative, fun, outgoing, adores children. And they adore her.”

  Interesting. He’d have said the same about J.J. “You don’t share those qualities?” he asked, curious to see how she’d respond.

  “I’m the practical one of the family.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  She threw a surprised look over her shoulder. “You don’t believe me?”

  “In a word...no. I’ve looked into the eyes of too many dreamers not to recognize one when she shows up and offers me a handful of stardust and moonbeams.”

  She swung fully around. “Obviously you haven’t looked closely enough. I’m the least imaginative person you’ll ever meet. I’m so grounded in reality, I have roots.”

  He regarded her with genuine amusement. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart, and maybe it’ll come true.” Then he added pointedly, “When you’re not running around the countryside fulfilling ridiculous wishes, that is.”

  He’d succeeded in irritating her again. The fairy buried deep inside quivered to life, fighting for release.

  “It’s apparent you’ve made up your mind about me,” she retorted. “Which probably means your idea will work just fine. River isn’t the only one in for a shock. You’re in for one, too. Despite what you think, I’m not Justice. In fact, I’m nothing like her. I’m an ordinary, practical woman. Boringly normal,” she stressed.

  Yeah, right. No one would ever call J.J. Randell ordinary, let alone “boringly normal.” She might hide behind those labels, but they weren’t even close to accurate. She was shades of black on shades of white, deeply textured on icy smooth, a winged fantasy trying to pass for grounded reality.

  And he wanted her.

  He forced himself to focus, a feat becoming more and more difficult with each passing moment. “I assume that means you agree to River’s alternate wish,” he said.

  His comment brought her up short and he almost laughed out loud at her expression. So much for playing the part of Ms. Practical. She couldn’t even stay connected to reality long enough to realize what she’d committed herself to.

  “I...I guess I have,” she conceded. “What about the reporter? We were going to discuss how to handle that problem, too.”

  “I want to release a statement announcing our engagement. Considering what Ms. Lark overheard, it’s the very least we need to do.”

  She nodded reluctantly. “Time for damage control.”

  “Past time.”

  “Will announcing our engagement be enough to spike her guns?”

  “No. That’s why I’m going to embellish a little.” He waited, expecting her to ask for details. When she didn’t, he let it go. She’d find out soon enough. No sense in upsetting her any further today. “Questions?” he prompted.

  “When is this vacation to start?”

  “Apparently it already has.”

  She frowned. “And how long will it last?”

  “A week. No longer than ten days.”

  “I’ll have to check with Mathias and make sure he can spare me that long.”

  His amusement faded at the reminder. If this didn’t work out the way he hoped, Blackstone would pay. No one—no one—hurt his daughter and got away with it. “Since this was his brilliant idea, he’ll have to find a way to spare you.”

  “I don’t think he anticipated River’s wish.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have gotten involved.” His words were harsher than he’d planned and he instantly regretted how deeply they bit. Had she any idea how revealing her eyes could be, how the brown deepened to umber whenever he upset her? He doubted it. Nor would she like it if she knew. “Any other problems or concerns? I’d like to get a move on.”

  “My...my clothes.”

  It cost her a lot to ask. The last thing he wanted was for her to sacrifice her pride over something so minor. “There’s a small town not far from the cabin,” he assured easily. “We can shop there. Can you hold out until tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  He could tell she desperately wanted to come up with some more objections. “Then we have a deal?” he asked before she could think of any. “You’ll play the part of River’s mother for the length of our vacation. Do whatever she asks—”

  “Within reason,” J.J. hastened to interrupt.

  “Within reason. And you’ll try your best to disillusion her.”

  “Wait a minute. I never agreed—”

  “All I’m asking is that you be yourself,” he explained impatiently. “You claim to be practical. Make sure you are. Don’t feed into her fantasies if you can help it. She’s susceptible enough without your encouraging her.”

  “I’ll be myself. I can’t promise more than that.”

  Be herself. That’s what he was afraid of. She might buy into all that bull about being unimaginative and practical, but it wouldn’t last. A fairy hid deep within her, struggling for freedom. He’d already seen it battle its way to the surface a time or two. Once that wondrous creature found a way to permanently escape, practicality would be out the window.

  Just like Maise.

  “Is there anything else we need to discuss?” she questioned impatiently.

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Fine. Then let’s go.”

  She started for the car and he suddenly recalled he hadn’t warned her about the sleeping accommodations. “Ms. Randell?”

  “Yes?”

  She turned, her hair seized by a rogue gust of wind. The long, dark strands billowed around her in an untamed torrent, just as it had when she’d ridden naked on the back of a butterfly. The illusion winked into existence again and he didn’t resist. Couldn’t resist. He closed in on her, filling his hands with her hair. He marveled briefly at its softness, surprised to discover it was as silken-fine as he’d imagined. Pillowing it against the soft curve of her cheeks, he gathered her in.

  “I’ve been waiting to taste you since the first time you walked through my door,” he told her roughly.

  “No—”

  But whether she was denying his statement or her own yearnings, he wasn’t certain. He lowered his head and her resistance ebbed, slipping from her like evening surrendering to the night. Gently he stole a kiss, his mouth brushing hers in a whisper-soft caress. It was undeniably a first sampling, one filled as much with curiosity as it was with sharp, desperate need. Unable to resist, he returned for another. And then another, each kiss learning more, sharing more. Each one growing deeper and more urgent than the last. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  “Open for me,” he murmured. “Let me in.”

  “A dangerous request,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut. “Very dangerous.”

  “A practical woman would stop me. A practical woman would keep her lips closed nice and tight.” He brushed her mouth once more. Teasing. Tempting. Seducing. “Are you, fairy lady? Are you a practical woman?”

  Her moan trembled in the air between them. “Yes, I am. I’m the most practical woman yo
u’ll ever meet.” And then she thrust her hands deep into his hair, tugging him downward.

  Her lips were moist and eager, sliding over his in joyous union. She opened to him and he dipped swiftly inward, groaning at her lush taste, finding the unique flavor sweeter than any he’d ever known. She was delicious warmth and wild passion, burning desire and sweet heat. And if there’d been a bed anywhere within reach, he’d have had her in it, stripped as naked as a fairy riding a butterfly.

  Her hair drifted from his hands in an ebony cascade as he sought the smooth silk of her skin, his thumbs stroking the high sweep of her cheekbones. He wanted more of her. He wanted all of her. He pulled her close, impatient with the layers of wool barring his path.

  “Why are you wearing so many damned clothes?” he demanded.

  She chuckled, the sound shuddering straight through him. “It’s cold outside.”

  “Bull. It’s hotter than Hades.” Her sweater provided a momentary barrier until he found where it joined her skirt. “You sure as hell don’t need this,” he said, sweeping upward beneath the pullover.

  She released a startled gasp and he caught it in his mouth, drinking it in. Where earlier he’d filled his hands with her hair, now something infinitely softer and more feminine filled them. He wished he could strip away her sweater, taste what he could only touch. But that wasn’t possible. At least, not here. Not when she couldn’t fully appreciate the experience. The tips of her breasts surged against his palms, turgid buds that betrayed her passion.

  “You feel it, too, don’t you?” he asked. He rocked her into the cradle of his hips so she’d know she wasn’t alone in her reaction. So she’d know that he, too, burned with an unrelenting need.

  J.J. buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

  “Oh, no? It can’t come as a surprise. Hell, we’ve been eyeing each other ever since you arrived. I’m just amazed I had the strength of will to walk away last night.”

  She laughed, the sound filled with despair. “You don’t understand. I’m not like this. I’ve never kissed a man on the side of the road. Not someone I’ve only known for a day. And I certainly never allowed him to...to...”

  “To do this...?” Ever so gently, he palmed her breasts, stroking the satiny skin with callused fingertips.

  A shiver rippled through her and her breath hitched in her throat. “Yes, that.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  “It would be the smart thing to do.”

  Raven glanced at her curiously. It wouldn’t appear that the smart thing held much appeal. She lifted her gaze to his and what he read there brought a regretful smile to his lips. “Another time, perhaps,” he murmured.

  “I’m playing the part of River’s mother, remember?” Her breath came in sweet little puffs, swift and warm and urgent. “Not the part of your wife.”

  He grinned. “Maybe I should have River amend that wish.”

  She dragged free of his arms, her movements decisive. “Not a chance,” she retorted. But her lips trembled with desperate need and her eyes burned incandescent with unsated hunger. For a split second, she swayed, bending once again toward temptation. At the last possible instant, she caught herself. And turning, she strode toward the car.

  He didn’t try to stop her. Face it, Sierra. She was an enchantment too bewitching to resist. A brilliant fantasy that had no business invading his dark reality. He knew all about fantasies. They were rainbows that drew the unwary on impossible quests, melting into nothing the instant they were captured. They were exquisite dreams that slipped away with dawn’s first light, stealing even the memory of their own beauty. They were untouchable and unwanted.

  He watched silently as she vanished into the passenger seat.

  Black on white.

  Textured on smooth.

  The bittersweet illusion of fantasy, fading beneath the harsh, revealing light of reality.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Justice snuggled deep into the vivid red pocket of a tulip. A feathery stamen tickled her cheek, leaving behind a streak of yellow pollen. She brushed it away, but more rained down on her head, powdering her long black hair with gold dust. The wind tossed the top-heavy flower, laughing at her, teasing her as she bobbed helplessly back and forth.

  “You know I can’t catch you,” she called to the wind. With a sigh, she rolled onto her back and slipped deeper into the mouth of the tulip, her feet dangling over the pouty outer lips. For that was the next “gift” required by Fausta. Somehow she was to capture wind, fire, water and earth and add the four elements to her silken bag. But how in all of Fairy was she to accomplish such an impossibility?

  Page 22, The Great Dragon Hunt

  by Jack Rabbitt

  To J.J.’s relief, River woke shortly after they returned to the car. She provided an instant distraction, something J.J. sorely needed.

  “Daddy, when are we going to get there?”

  “Not for a while.”

  Why had Raven kissed her? She risked a quick glance in his direction and found him concentrating on the road. And why had she responded so ardently? It had been a dangerous slip on her part. She might find him attractive, but she had to exhibit more self-control. Intimacy equaled danger. She couldn’t forget that. She wouldn’t forget that.

  “You said we’d be there when I woke up,” River complained.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. We were delayed.”

  J.J. frowned. She didn’t understand how he could slip beneath her guard with such ease. She’d have thought two such wary individuals wouldn’t have had any difficulty holding each other at a distance. They were both experienced enough at the art. Her gaze slid to his profile again. Very experienced. Guarded. Private. Defenses at full alert. And yet...

  “What does delayed mean, Gem?” River demanded.

  “Gem’s not hooked up to the car, remember?”

  “No, I forgot.”

  “Well, you can talk to the computer when we get to the cabin.”

  And yet, they’d tumbled into each other’s arms as though desperate for human contact. J.J. caught her lower lip between her teeth. Perhaps that explained it. Perhaps it had been so long since they’d allowed themselves to touch and be touched that the need had grown to intolerable levels. Her mouth curved downward. Or perhaps she’d worked PR for so long she’d gotten used to coating the truth with a more palatable layer of BS.

  Because the truth was... She wanted Raven every bit as much as he wanted her. If they’d been anywhere other than in the open where someone could have stumbled across them, he’d have driven that point home. And she wouldn’t have lifted a single finger to stop him.

  “Daddy, call Gem on the telephone and ask what delayed means,” River requested.

  “I don’t need to ask the computer. Delayed means we’ve been slowed down so it’s going to take longer to get there than I told you.”

  J.J. closed her eyes. Okay, sweetie. Time to face facts. For some inexplicable reason, her libido went into overdrive every time she came within shouting distance of Raven. Even now she could feel the desire simmering between them as if it were a hot, focused current, arching and crackling the closer they came. Maybe now that she’d acknowledged it, she’d be able to control it.

  She almost laughed out loud. Oh, sure. How difficult could it be? All she needed to do was shore up a few sagging defenses, keep her hands off Mr. Raven Sierra, make sure the man kept his hands off her—and pray this wish didn’t delay her return to Seattle for much longer.

  “Oh, rats,” River grumbled. “I don’t like being delayed.”

  Raven turned his head and looked at J.J. Just one quick glance. But it warned that he knew precisely what she’d been thinking. “I doubt we’ll be delayed for much longer,” he murmured. “At least, I won’t.”

  And with that single, all-too-telling comment, her defenses fell. Hard.

  “This is your cabin?” J.J. asked dryly, an interminable hour later. She stepped out onto the gravel drive
way and looked around.

  Raven cut the engine of the car and thrust open his door. “This is it.”

  “You have a talent for understatement.”

  His “cabin” was a huge stone, wood and glass structure that had somehow been slipped in among the surrounding aspen and pines. Perched on a steep mountainside, it overlooked a gorgeous meadow. A stream gurgled down the hill nearby, tripping musically over rocks and stones and around trees and bushes before meandering through the grassy area below.

  He shrugged. “I wanted privacy.”

  “I think you succeeded.”

  The inside was equally impressive. J.J. stood in the entranceway, admiring the open floor plan and the simplicity of the decor. To her left she could see a huge living area, and a stone fireplace occupied one entire wall. To her right, she caught a glimpse of a kitchen and casual dining area.

  “My bedroom’s upstairs,” River said, grabbing hold of J.J.’s hand. “It’s right next to Daddy’s. Do you wanna see it?”

  “I’d love to.”

  The bedrooms were situated at the top of a short staircase between the living room and kitchen. River proudly showed off her own room before allowing J.J. to peek into Raven’s. That’s when it struck her.

  “Wait a minute.” She turned, practically tumbling into Raven’s arms. Sneaky devil. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

  “Didn’t I mention?” His attempt at an innocent look must have been the same one Hades gave Persephone—just before he fed his captive the pomegranate seeds that condemned her to spending four months of every year in the Underworld. “The cabin only has two bedrooms. One for our daughter... and one for us.”

  “Why can’t I use the dirt outside?” River whispered worriedly, snuggling deeper beneath the covers.

  “INSTRUCTIONS ARE SPECIFIC. GIFT MUST BE EARTH THAT CONTAINS A SPECIAL QUALITY. EXTERIOR DIRT DOES NOT HAVE ANY SPECIAL QUALITIES. YOU ARE REQUIRED TO CONSIDER A SECONDARY OPTION.”

  “Don’t use so many big words,” River scolded. “I don’t understand.”

 

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