She blinked in disbelief at the cuff, then shot him a stunned, uncomprehending gaze. His expression hadn't changed … except, perhaps, for an added tightness to his jaw and intensity in his stare.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
He braced an arm along the back of her seat. "Ooh, chèr'," he murmured, the softness of his tone at direct odds with the hardness of his gaze. "I'm 'cozying up.'"
The words brought a welling of pain to her chest, even while she struggled to make sense of them.
"What's wrong, darlin'? Is this latest maneuver of mine not up to par with all my others?" The fury in his face was suddenly unmistakable.
The shock of this unexpected confrontation sent her own fury flaring. "No, I'd have to say your maneuvers in the shower last night were of a much higher caliber, and the ones in bed this morning."
His scowl deepened; his eyes flashed. "Your low opinion of me is bad enough … but what's worse is that you took something beautiful and made it ugly."
The words struck her like a blow—especially since he was calling their time together beautiful. It made her want to cry and deepened her confusion. "No, you took something ugly and tried to pass it off as beautiful." But she was no longer sure he had. How could she think clearly, when his very presence shook her from the inside out? That was exactly why she had to get away—to regain her presence of mind. "Let me out of these handcuffs."
"No. Scream, if you want. Might draw a few nosy gators from the swamp, but that's about all. The folks went home. The nearest neighbor lives miles away. It's just you and me, chèr'."
"Where's Remy?"
"I told him to get lost."
Her anger glowed. "That's enough of this nonsense, Mitch. You're going to make me miss my flight."
"That's right. You're going to spend the day—and the night, too—shackled to this truck." A startled gasp escaped her, and he drew a cell phone from his shirt pocket. "Your only way out, Kate, is to call the sheriff. Have him send his deputies. The number is programmed in the phone. Hit the star key, and the one. A direct line."
Stunned, she stared at him. He couldn't mean it! But beneath the force of his stare, her surprise deepened into dismay. He did indeed mean it.
"Call, Kate. Tell them I took you from your home in Florida, held you prisoner on my boat, and now I've got you handcuffed to my truck. They'll see that part for themselves when they get here." He hit two buttons on the phone, then pressed it into her hand.
She took the phone with an angry jerk and disconnected the call.
"What, you don't want to face the drama of a big arrest scene?" he taunted. "Then call a friend from your real life. Have him come to your rescue. He can report me to the cops for you, if you can't stomach making the call yourself."
"I'm not calling anyone." She flung the phone onto the truck floor. "I get your point." And she did. She could so easily have him thrown in jail right now—for a long, long time—and she believed he would keep her chained until the deputies arrived. So much for cozying up! Yet her anger wasn't appeased. "Why weren't you honest with me, Mitch? You could have told me you were worried that I might bring charges against you."
"Do I look worried that you might bring charges against me?"
"You must have been. You called your lawyer about it."
"That was before I knew you. It didn't take me long, Kate, to realize that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. And that has nothing to do with our cozying up. It has to do with Arianne, and your love for her. You want her world to be a happy one. You're not about to throw her papa in jail."
Kate's throat tightened and her vision blurred. He was, of course, right. And she'd been so wrong.
"What kills me, Kate, is that after all of our 'cozying up,' you jumped to such an unfair, unfounded, degrading conclusion about me."
"I didn't jump to any conclusion. I doubted you, yes, but I didn't entirely believe you'd done anything wrong … until you showed me how little I meant to you."
"Showed you? What the hell are you talking about?"
"The moment I assured you I wouldn't press charges, you were ready for me to leave. You practically pushed me out the door."
"I didn't push you. I didn't touch you. I didn't even look at you, more than I could help."
"Exactly." Her voice wavered with an overload of emotion. Swallowing against a painful lump in her throat, she finished in a whisper, "I hadn't known you could be so cold."
Regret and something deeper flashed in his eyes. "I've never felt that cold, Kate. Or that hurt."
Her breath stalled. She'd hurt him? His pride, maybe. But to actually hurt him, he'd have to really care. A painfully twisted sense of hope, regret and confusion added to her emotional upheaval. Fighting off the onset of tears, she choked out, "Then why don't you want me here for Christmas?"
"Christmas?" He said it as if he'd never heard the word.
"I saw you when your mother invited me. You almost groaned out loud."
He muttered a curse, glared at her, leaned in close and lodged his fingers around her jaw. "Hell, no, I don't want you here … not if I can't have you. I can't take the torment, Kate. If you're near me, I'm going to want to hold you, and kiss you, and take you home." Intensity blazed in his stare; his voice grew gruff. "And if you're not near me—" he clenched his jaw "—I'm still going to want you."
Her heart surged into a thudding beat, and she searched his taut face, her feelings so poignant they made her chest ache.
"And if you'd show up with another man," he rasped, "I might have to do something drastic. Like feed him to the gators."
She bit her bottom lip. She loved him so much! And it frightened her. Terrified her. He couldn't possibly feel the same for her. Desire, maybe. The chemistry between them was, without a doubt, explosive. Needing to subdue the fear, to distract herself from it, she forced a half smile and asked half jokingly, "Have you ever fed anyone to the gators?"
"Not yet … but you better not test me."
Their gazes melded, shifted and probed. Her longing for him intensified. "Don't be feeding anyone to the gators, Mitch Devereaux, because if the sheriff came and took you away, I believe it would kill me."
He expelled a long, violent breath, hooked his hand around her head and kissed her—a needful, demanding kiss that kindled a fierce yet tender heat. When the kiss drew to a reluctant close, he whispered, "Don't be afraid to trust me."
She ran her free hand up the strong, commanding contours of his face, worshipping every angle. "I'm so sorry, Mitch. I don't know why I doubted you. One minute I was happy and thinking about postponing my flight. The next, I heard what Kip said and started worrying that … that…"
"That what we have together is too good to be true."
She stared at him, wide-eyed, amazed that he understood how she'd felt … and that he thought their relationship was "too good to be true." Tumultuous emotions rose with such force she couldn't speak. She'd fallen too deeply in love with him, and it scared her witless. He brought too much precious bounty to her life—everything she'd ever wanted—which meant he had to be out of her reach, ultimately. Triumphs of that magnitude never happened to her. When the inevitable day came that her illusions were shattered, her heart and soul would shatter right along with them.
"Don't do that, Kate," he said with quiet desperation. "You're running from me again. I've got you handcuffed to my truck, and you're still running."
She couldn't deny it.
With a tightened mouth and brisk moves, he drew his keys from his pocket, unlocked the handcuffs and tossed them onto the floor. His expression of anguished intensity mirrored what she was feeling. "I'm not going to try to hold you, Kate. Tell me that you don't see any kind of future for us, and that I'll never be an important part of your life, and I'll drive you to the airport right now, and call you only about Arianne."
She groaned, frowned and hushed him with a kiss. She didn't want him to let her go! He opened his mouth wider on hers and deepened the give and take. When the
y parted, she whispered unevenly, "I never meant I didn't want you. I'm just so afraid of jumping to conclusions again … but in the opposite direction. Of taking our relationship too seriously."
"Too seriously?"
Better to scare him off now and spare herself the heartbreak. Struggling with contracting throat muscles, she nodded.
"I can't believe you don't know," he said fervently, "that I'm so crazy in love with you I can't see straight."
And her heart rolled like a drum to a pause. So crazy in love with her.
"Did you hear me, Kate?" He tilted her face. "I love you. You might think it's too soon, but I do know. I grew up around lots of love. I understand how it works … and I recognize it when I feel it."
Oh, how she longed to believe that love could last. But she'd had to let go of love so many times. If he decided some day that he had, after all, made a mistake, the devastation would destroy her.
And it wasn't as if he'd never made a mistake in matters of the heart. Gripped by a sudden, urgent need to know, she asked with her heart pounding in every vein, "When you married Camryn, did you think you loved her?"
He drew back, considered the question, then swung her down from the truck. Grabbing a blanket from behind the seat, he took her hand and led her to a soft, grassy spot beneath a tree, where he lay beside her, propped up on an elbow.
He regarded her in wary silence as he searched for a place to begin.
He couldn't blame her for needing to understand about his failed marriage with her sister. How could she trust in his promise of love if he'd been so wrong before?
And he had to make her trust. The future of his heart, his home, his everything, depended on it.
"I married Camryn," he began slowly, "because she was having my baby. I believed that was only right. But, there was a moment, Kate … one blinding moment, when I first saw her, that I swore she was the woman for me. Something about her face, her eyes, her voice, called out to me on such a primal level, I felt that I'd come face-to-face with my destiny. And I acted on that belief. But as I got to know her, I realized there was nothing for me there."
He shook his head in remembered confusion. "How could I have been so wrong? I asked myself that a thousand times." He paused, then stroked her cheek. "But I see now, Kate, that I wasn't wrong. I just misinterpreted what fate had in store for me. Camryn did lead me to my destiny. And the woman meant for me does have that same face, same eyes, same voice … but a whole different heart and soul."
Her eyes shone with sweet poignancy, but his need for her was too great for him to clearly judge its significance.
"I don't want to rush you, Kate, but I can't seem to help it. I don't want to live without you, even for a little while. I've got captains running my boats. I can manage them from anywhere. I can live in Tallahassee, if you want, and build a dock near Carabelle. Or … you can live here and teach at Nicholls State University, which isn't far, or even LSU. We'll make it work, Kate. I swear we will … if you love me."
Tension held him hostage.
"I can't believe," she finally said, weaving her fingers through his hair and drawing near, "that you don't know I'm so crazy in love with you I can't see straight."
Joy rose in him like an incoming tide. Pulling her into his arms, he pledged his life to her in a kiss. She joined him in the celebration, and the fire of their love leaped and blazed.
A while later—a good while later—he pinned her down, not only on the blanket, but on the details. "You do understand that I'm asking you to marry me, don't you? I want you for my bride. My wife. My partner." He smoothed a thumb across her mouth, and added in a gruff, lingering whisper, "My lover."
Her chest rose on a swelling intake of breath, and she nodded, her eyes answering a resounding "yes."
"Then let's go bring our daughter home."
"Our daughter," she repeated, her happiness shining.
"And tomorrow, we'll get married."
"Tomorrow?" She knitted her brows and slanted her mouth at him in protest. "I believe in careful, detailed planning … and long engagements."
Long engagements. He felt his heart grow still. He didn't like the sound of that. It seemed he'd waited forever for her already.
She brushed a kiss across his lips. "Let's make it next week."
His mouth slowly spread in a consenting smile, and his spirits once again soared. He knew when to compromise.
Heady with her success, she pressed on. "And I'd like to live here, on the bayou, and teach nearby. Life just wouldn't be the same without that Cajun spice."
"I promise you plenty of that, chèr'."
As always, he delivered on his promises.
And oh, chèr'! Dey passed a good time.
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WIFE BY DECEPTION Page 25