WIFE BY DECEPTION

by Donna Sterling

  "Stand up," she urged in a tremulous whisper.

  "Kate," he groaned on a hot breath, ignoring her command, shifting her until the water sluiced down her torso and rinsed away the suds. He then ran his tongue across her glistening skin, back and forth, just above the blond, water-slick triangle. And then downward.

  Her breath came in gasps, and her legs shook. She couldn't let him get away with this! She'd lose all control. Digging her fingers into the water-beaded brawn of his shoulders, she pried him away. Forced him to rise.

  On his way up, he scoured her face with a desperate stare.

  "Hands against the wall," she murmured, her voice unrecognizable in its huskiness.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. His eyes flashed. But he did as he was told, flattening his palms against the wall on either side of her, bringing his face close to hers. He angled in for a kiss. She evaded him. And soaped her hands. And applied them with a vengeance to his sinewy body—across wide shoulders and a heaving chest, her fingers working the suds through fine whorls of hair and around peaking nipples. She raked her hands downward, then, to his washboard abdomen and strong, lean hips … and around to his tautly muscled backside. The feel of him streamed from her fingertips to sizzle through her blood.

  He watched her with barely contained savagery. Animal-like hunger.

  She wasn't done with her tormenting, though. She stroked between his legs in rich, soapy lather—first the velvety heaviness underneath, then up along the hard, pulsing strength of his erection. With a hissing intake of breath, he shut his eyes, pressed harder against the wall and moved in a sinuous dance of his own. A glorious male beast, roused and ready, undulating in subtle yet powerful thrusts.

  Her hand gripped and slid through the suds, harnessing the pulsating power. Heat fluxed through her, simmering, radiating, deep within her core.

  A helpless moan vibrated in her throat.

  He opened his eyes. Met her gaze. Pulled back from the wall, curved his hands around her bottom and lifted her. Her legs slid around his hips, her arms about his neck.

  And he surged into her.

  Ah, the power and fury of that storm! Lightning, thunder, hurricane force … she experienced all, with pleasure rising in her like a tidal wave, until the crest broke over them with a stunning potency.

  It took a long, long while of huddling together against the shower wall before either of them could move. Kate felt as if she'd been profoundly transformed. A new persona had emerged from within the staid, prudent Kate. A freer, stronger woman … yet somehow utterly bound to him. Her wild, green-eyed lover. Her oh-so-willing sex slave. She reveled in her newfound sexual prowess.

  The utter freedom she felt with him. The poignant satisfaction.

  Afterward, when the water ran cold and they stirred back to life with dazed expressions, prunelike fingers and chilled flesh, they dried each other off with fluffy towels and probed each other's gazes, as if searching for yet a deeper connection. Feeling a deeper connection. Drifting then on a warm euphoria, she curled up with him in bed and slept in exhausted slumber, her naked body curving with sleek perfection to his.

  Mitch stirred first at dawn, his dreams saturated with the flavors and textures of their lovemaking; his consciousness dawning with awed awareness of her in his arms. Life could get no finer. He brought her awake with slow, hot caresses, and this time, they made love without the sound and the fury; without the hurricane force. They moved, instead, in subtle synchronicity and savored the most sumptuous tenderness he'd ever known.

  And in the jaw-clenching, hip-grinding heat of it, he marveled at how much he loved her. She was, without a doubt, the One.

  The power of the sea, the beauty of the sunset, the physical high of making love—all these had taken on a whole new dimension because of her. Though each had filled him with the old soul-deep yearning, it hadn't been an empty yearning. He hadn't longed for a woman he might never meet, but for her, the woman at his side.

  And now, in the clear light of morning, after a full night of incredible lovemaking, the longing for her hadn't lessened. It had grown into something powerful and relentless. He had to find a way to keep her here, in his world, or make a place for himself in hers. She was the woman meant for him. His mate.

  Should he tell her how he felt, or would he scare her away? After all, she'd only known him for four days. Four days. Yet he'd known her, searched for her, longed for her, his entire life.

  Lying with their bodies entwined, her face tucked against his neck, her silky, fragrant hair pooling across his chest, he didn't want to let her leave his bed. Didn't want to end the bliss. But bright sunlight streamed through slim openings in the curtains, and he knew the day would begin whether he wanted it to or not.

  As if reading his thoughts, she lifted her head and rested it on the pillow beside his. With a small but heart-stirring smile, she murmured, "You're very good at what you do, Mitch Devereaux."

  Humor momentarily lightened his intensity. "Shrimping?"

  "Well, that, too. But I meant, making love."

  Fervently glad for that, he reached out and touched a golden tangle of hair beside her face, savoring its luxuriant softness. Again he wondered, should he tell her that he loved her? Or would that be rushing things too much?

  Before he could decide, she said in a warm, drawn-out whisper, "I've never made love like that before."

  His heart expanded. "I haven't, either."

  Her delicate golden brows knitted. "I find that hard to believe."

  "Why?"

  "I just assumed that you … well, made love many times, and with women who—" She broke off and blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you into a discussion about what you've done, or haven't done."

  He smoothed the back of his fingers across the creamy softness of her face, wanting so badly to keep her with him for the rest of their lives. "I've made love with women before last night, but never to them."

  She frowned in clear puzzlement. "The difference being…?"

  "I'd say it's the difference between singing a song with someone—" he paused, choosing his words to get his meaning exactly right "—or to someone. The first is a shared activity. Fun, rousing. Companionable." He searched her eyes for understanding. "The other is a form of communication. A way of expressing what's in your heart. I was singing my song to you, Kate. Not just with you."

  Kate felt her chest expand with the warmest of hope. Was he saying that he loved her? But she couldn't allow herself to jump to that conclusion. She was probably reading too much into a beautiful, poetic sentiment uttered after a night of passionate lovemaking.

  "My song's all about you, Kate," he said, slanting his face across hers, his arousal once again stirring to life between them. "About you and me, together."

  And, oh, how she thrilled to that song, wanting to hear it again, and listen more closely this time to the lyrics. But before they'd even properly kissed, a noise intruded from beyond their closed bedroom door. The sound of the front door opening.

  "Mitch, you home?" came a man's shout.

  Mitch pulled away from their kiss and cursed beneath his breath. "Kip Landry, my lawyer. An old friend. One with lousy timing." Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he raised his voice to answer. "I'll be right out, Kip."

  He drew a change of clothing from his dresser and hurriedly donned fresh jeans and a light chambray shirt. It was the first time she'd seen him in anything but T-shirts. He looked so vitally strong, tanned and handsome, even with his hair all mussed and a morning shadow darkening his jaw. "Don't you dare go anywhere," he told her. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He then strode out to meet his guest, closing the bedroom door firmly behind him.

  She heard the lawyer's greeting, only slightly muffled through the closed bedroom door. "Stopped by to talk about the Kate Jones situation."

  Kate sat up straight from the pillows, her heart gearing into a slower, heavier beat. The Kate Jones situation?

  "Outside, Kip," Mitch said.
<
br />   "Why, you got somebody here?"

  "Outside."

  Kate fought free of the tangled bedcovers and nearly tripped over her own bare feet as she hurried to the open bedroom window. Pushing aside one corner of the curtain and virtually pressing her ear to the screen, she heard the lawyer's hearty voice, although Mitch had apparently led him a good distance away from the house.

  "Yessir, you were right to worry. It'd cost you a pretty penny to defend yourself if she brings you up on assault or kidnapping charges. As far as a claim to custody for Arianne, she doesn't have many grounds, unless she has you locked up in prison."

  Dismay shot through Kate with such sickening force she could barely hold back a cry. Mitch's reply was too low to hear, but as she peered through the curtains, she saw that he was practically pushing Kip into a black luxury sedan.

  "What do you mean, later?" the lawyer boomed. "I just spent half my holiday weekend doing research to keep you out of jail."

  Again, she couldn't make out Mitch's answer.

  The car door slammed, the motor started and Kip called through the open car window, "Like I told you before, get on her good side. Cozy up all you can. Knowing your way with the ladies, that shouldn't be too hard." He then drove away.

  With her heart slamming painfully against her rib cage, Kate grabbed her toiletries from her suitcase, slipped to the bathroom and locked the door. She then reached into the shower stall and turned on the water, full blast. Ignoring the provocative memories they'd made in this stall last night, she leaned against the bathroom wall and wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

  Please, don't jump to conclusions! You can't judge Mitch by a few overheard remarks. She'd always believed in giving people a fair chance to prove themselves before drawing unfavorable conclusions. To do less now would be highly unfair to Mitch and herself.

  Yet, those few overheard remarks couldn't be ignored, either. Like a dowsing of cold water, they'd shocked her out of a dreamlike euphoria unlike any she'd ever experienced. She couldn't judge him on the basis of that, either. She'd been so carried away by his charm and his lovemaking that she'd actually believed he was falling in love with her. After only four days!

  "Kate," Mitch called through the locked bathroom door, trying the knob. "How about opening up? We could pick up where we left off."

  She didn't answer. Let him think she was already in the shower and couldn't hear him. She needed time to gather her scattered thoughts. To deal with the mind-numbing blow.

  Oh, come on. It's not that bad, she told herself. He didn't do anything wrong. She couldn't blame him for contacting his lawyer. If she had discovered he was abusive, she would have pressed charges against him and sued for custody of Arianne. At least now she understood why he'd waited to confront her about the impersonation. He'd been buying time for his lawyer to prepare.

  To find a good defense against charges she might level against him.

  Oh, God. Why hadn't she realized Mitch might have that concern in mind?

  Get on her good side. Cozy up. She cringed at the remembered words. She also thought back to all the nice things Mitch had said and done, and how she'd taken every one of them to heart.

  He might have been sincere, she reminded herself, wanting to believe it. Just because he'd consulted a lawyer about her didn't mean he hadn't really wanted her. But the practical, world-weary voice in her head cut in. You've only known him for four days, and you've lost your objectivity.

  That much was undeniably true. And if she discovered that he had sweet-talked her, made love to her, led her into loving him, all for the purpose of "cozying up," she'd never get over the heartbreak. But how would she ever know what his motivation had been? He would never admit to a hidden agenda. Even if she swore she had no intention of filing charges, she could change her mind, right up until the statute of limitations ran out, which might be years from now. The fact that he hadn't talked to her about his concern, hadn't cleared the air, left her doubting his sincerity.

  Humiliation scalded her at the possibility that he'd courted her passion with an ulterior motive. She wouldn't jump to that conclusion, though. That wouldn't be fair to him. But she couldn't close her mind to it, either. And she certainly didn't intend to let him know what she'd overheard, or he'd bend over backward to assure her that the legal issues had nothing to do with their personal relationship. What other response could he give without utterly alienating her?

  No, she wouldn't let him know she'd overheard. She'd employ the acting skill that helped keep her pride intact all those years ago, when potential parents had looked the orphans over and passed by her and Camryn in favor of an infant.

  Kate hadn't blamed them back then for preferring a baby, and she didn't blame Mitch now for doing everything he could to protect himself and his daughter. At least, that was what her rational mind was telling her. But a strident inner voice cried out, Don't you know that love is for other people, never for you? You'll always be on the outside, looking in. Haven't you learned that by now?

  The pain that pierced her was not new but very old, an integral part of her spiritual makeup, and far too strong to fight. She realized then that even if she hadn't overheard Kip Landry's remarks, the euphoria couldn't have lasted. Her entire life experience proved as much.

  She had to get away to think straight. Away from Mitch, his intoxicating touch, his mind-drugging words. She had to get back to her world, to the levelheaded, clear-sighted Kate Jones she knew and understood.

  Maybe then she could sort through the chaos that was her soul.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  « ^ »

  Mitch was disappointed to find the bathroom door locked. He would have loved to join Kate in her shower. Thoughts of their last one still sent rushes of heat through him.

  Damn Kip for interrupting them this morning! He'd sent him away as fast as he could. He no longer needed his advice regarding Kate. He knew she wouldn't bring charges against him. She would do all she could to make Arianne feel at home with him. He hoped that would include staying with them.

  She hadn't mentioned the flight to Tallahassee he'd overheard her booking for today. That was a good sign. He would ask her at breakfast to stay an extra week or two. Didn't want to spook her by pressing for more. By the end of that time, though, he would convince her to stay permanently.

  He looked forward with keen relish to the persuasion tactics he intended to employ.

  Forcing his thoughts away from Kate in order to function as a rational being, he sauntered into the kitchen to scrounge up breakfast. As soon as they'd eaten, they'd go to his parents' house and pick up Arianne. What could be more perfect than having them, Kate and Arianne, together forever in his life?

  A goal well worth pursuing.

  He would take the next week off from work to do just that. To become an integral part of their lives. He'd already installed captains on all his boats. When his week of vacation had ended, he'd finalize the deal on a purchase of a dock, perfectly situated on a deep-water canal. With the help of a few savvy investors, he'd shape it into a commercial enterprise to cater to boats other than his own.

  Highly pleased with the turn his life had taken, he whistled an old Cajun tune as he reached for the coffeepot. Through the open kitchen window, he caught sight of two familiar pickup trucks pulling into his yard. His parents and Joey were in the first, and Darryl and Remy in the next. He assumed they were bringing Arianne to him, and he smiled with anticipation.

  He soon realized, though, that Arianne wasn't with them.

  "Mitch isn't thinking wit' his brain anymore," Joey was saying to his parents as they climbed out of his father's truck. "If he won't have Camryn arrested, I will. Da sheriff's a good friend. If I call him, he'll charge her wit' violating dat custody order."

  "Just talk to Mitch about it, Joey," his mother implored as she and his father trudged along with her toward the house.

  From a few paces behind them, Darryl growled, "Don't go messing in M
itch's business, Jo."

  "It's my business, too. I won't let that siren steal my niece again."

  "I'm telling you, she ain't da same woman she used to be," Darryl said, surprising Mitch. He'd never heard Darryl take such a fervent stand against anything Joey wanted. Amazing that he'd do so over Camryn—or the woman he thought was Camryn. "She won't run wit' Arianne."

  "Tu m'dis pas! And when did you get to know her so well, hmm?" Joey's tone spoke volumes about her feelings for the man who'd grown up next door to her, although she'd never admitted those feelings, as far as Mitch knew. "Did she work her siren magic on you, too?"

  Darryl's face reddened. "Don't be crazy."

  Deciding to put an end to Joey's ranting before Kate finished with her shower, Mitch ambled out onto the porch. "Where's Arianne?"

  No one answered, but Joey barged forward with that determined expression that usually made Mitch groan. "Lisette has her. We didn't want da baby upset by anything dat goes on here dis morning." Glancing at the house, she lowered her voice. "Is Camryn still here?"

  "Jo, you're making a big mistake getting involved in something you don't know about," Darryl warned, lumbering to her side with a scowl.

  "You be quiet and mind your own—"

  "Darryl's right, Joey," Mitch cut in, his brusque tone effectively drawing her attention. "You don't know anything about the situation. None of you do. If you'll have a seat on the porch—" he nodded toward the rockers and swing "—I'll explain some things that'll make it clear."

  "On da porch?" Joey said. "You mean, we're not welcome inside?"

  "That depends on how open-minded you are to what I'm about to tell you."

  She gaped at him in affront and alarm. His parents exchanged worried glances. He knew what they feared—that he was about to announce his reconciliation with Camryn. He wasn't sure his real news would make them feel much better. How to explain that Kate had deceived them only for Arianne's sake … and that he'd forgiven her and intended to keep her around for as long as she'd stay?