Husband--Or Enemy?

by Caroline Cross

  “Damn.” Riley’s voice held mock despair. “There goes my reputation.”

  “You know it’s true, sweetheart,” Joan replied serenely. “Not that you don’t have your faults.” Her voice turned a tad brusque. “Did you remember to tell Angelica about the shower?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. I forgot.”

  “I thought as much.” Unperturbed, Joan turned to Angelica. “Isabelle is getting married at the end of the month. Cynthia is having a wedding shower for her next Thursday, and as the newest member of the family, you simply must come. Everyone will want to meet you.”

  Just the thought of being an object of interest to an entire room of Fortunes made Angelica feel shaky. She needed some time to get accustomed to this marriage herself before she went public—particularly in that company. She took a deep breath. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

  “Oh.” His mother was clearly taken aback.

  “I—I’ve already got plans for that night. I’m sorry.”

  She felt Riley turn and stare at her, but before she could screw up the courage to meet his gaze and gauge his reaction, he turned back to his mother. “Like I told you, Mom, Angelica’s finishing up at the university. Thursday is her usual study night, but I’m sure she can change her plans. At the very least, she can try. Right, Angel?”

  Stunned by his nerve, she wanted in the worst way to say no. But then she caught herself. After all, she wasn’t trying to insult Joan Fortune, just give herself some breathing room. And saying she would try wasn’t the same as actually agreeing to go. Something she intended to explain to her husband the instant they were alone. “Yes, of course.”

  “Good.” Riley smiled at his mother. “We’ll get it figured out and call you.”

  “That’s fine.” Nobody’s fool, Joan was clearly aware of the tension in the room, but her pleasant expression didn’t change. “And now I’d better be going. Your father and I are due for bridge at the Bennett’s in about an hour. Angelica, it’s been nice to meet you.”

  “You, too, Mrs. Fortune.”

  Riley came smoothly to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Angelica’s shoulders sagged with relief as the pair exited the room. Worn out by the strain of the conversation, she leaned back in the chair and tried to calm her over-taxed nerves.

  It was easier said than done, particularly when Riley reentered the room. Coming to a halt by the couch, he fixed her with a level stare. “You want to tell me what that was all about?” he demanded.

  She met his look with one of her own. “I’d be glad to—right after you apologize for that little end run you did around me.”

  His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “My mother goes out of her way to invite you to a family function, you blow her off and you think I owe you an apology?”

  “Yes.”

  He kept an admirable hold on his temper. “All right. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. But dammit, Angelica, you hurt my mother’s feelings!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I certainly didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “Well, you were. Isabelle isn’t just the only girl in the family, she’s the baby. And since Shane and I both opted for something other than a big church wedding, my mom’s going all out. This means a lot to her.”

  “I didn’t realize.”

  “Then you’ll go?”

  “No!”

  “Why not?”

  “For all sorts of reasons.”

  “Name one.”

  I don’t want to. I wouldn’t belong. I wouldn’t know how to act. She pursed her lips, pride refusing to let her give voice to the thoughts running through her head. Yet she had to say something… “I don’t have a thing to wear.”

  Her pronouncement was met with a thunderous silence. “That’s it? That’s the problem?”

  Chagrined—why couldn’t she have come up with something that sounded less shallow?—she nodded. “Part of it.”

  “That’s easy to fix. Go shopping.”

  “No.”

  “Why not? If it’s the money—”

  “No, that’s not it,” she said quickly. “I just…I wouldn’t know where to go. Or what to get. Believe it or not, the places where I usually shop don’t have a designer section.” She raised her chin, daring him to comment.

  He was silent for the space of a heartbeat. And then to her dismay, something in his expression changed from annoyed to thoughtful. “Okay. Then I’ll take you.”

  “What?”

  “We can go today.”

  “No!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” I’m nobody’s charity case. And the last thing I want is to feel beholden to you. Much less when it involves spending an afternoon taking off my clothes in front of you! Yet there was no way—no way—she could say that and she knew it. She swallowed. “I need a shower.”

  “So take one. I need to make a few phone calls anyway.”

  They stared at each other. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that along with everything else, she’d neatly trapped herself into spending time with him.

  And she could see, by the sudden gleam in his eyes that Riley knew it, too.

  “Where are we going?” Angelica asked as Riley guided the Corvette past the gatehouse at the entrance to Saguaro Springs and turned toward town.

  “I called my sister. She gave me a list of places where she shops. She usually looks okay, so I thought it would be a place to start.”

  Isabelle Fortune looked “okay”? It was the sort of statement only a brother could make. Still, with more than a little chagrin Angelica found she was relieved that he didn’t seem to be accustomed to buying clothes for women.

  Way to go, girl. Married to a man who doesn’t love you and you’re feeling territorial.

  It was hardly a reassuring thought. She tried to tell herself it meant nothing, only to realize she was lying a moment later when she found herself taking advantage of Riley’s concentration on his driving to admire his profile. She made herself look away. Yet she couldn’t seem to get his image out of her mind: silky black hair, thickly lashed eyes, strong nose, chiseled lips. Worse, she kept remembering the moment earlier in the family room when his expression had changed, and she’d had the disconcerting sense that he’d seen beneath the surface to what she was really feeling.

  The short drive to town seemed to take forever. Maneuvering through the light weekend traffic, Riley swung the car into a parking spot in front of a shop in Pueblo’s most exclusive shopping district. An ultra-fashionable black-and-white suit was displayed in the window, while a discreet sign hanging above the door read Los Palmas.

  “You ready?” Riley opened his door.

  “I suppose.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  A bell tinkled discreetly as they entered the shop. An attractive woman standing behind a curved counter looked up. Covering the receiver of the phone pressed to her ear, she said pleasantly, “Hi. I’ll be right with you.”

  Riley nodded and she went back to her conversation.

  Angelica looked around. The shop’s interior was warm and cozy. The air smelled faintly of vanilla, while the peach-toned carpet felt thick and plush beneath her feet. There were a number of attractive displays, including one where a rainbow of sheer, delicate scarves were draped artfully over a spoke-back chair. Entranced, she crossed over to take a closer look, only to stop at a circular stand holding coats, skirts and slacks in a mouth-watering array of pastels. Running her fingertips over a silky sage-green jacket, she glanced at the price tag, and nearly fainted. She took a hasty step back—and bumped smack into Riley’s warm, solid frame.

  His breath tickled her temple as his arm came up to steady her. “What’s the matter?”

  She turned to face him. “Do you have any idea what things cost here?”

  His gaze played over her face, then he reached around her, took a quick glance at the tag attached to a pair of pants, and straightened. “
So?” He swept a tendril of her hair over her shoulder, his fingers grazing her neck.

  With that single touch, her shock over the prices evaporated as all of her senses responded to him. She could feel the heat from his skin, see the shadow of the beard beneath his cheeks, hear the even ebb and flow of his every breath, smell his intoxicating scent. She struggled to remember what they were talking about. “It’s too much.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” His mouth curved in an enigmatic smile. “I think you’re worth it.”

  There was no safe way to respond to that. Fighting a desire to lean forward and press her face against the smooth V of skin exposed by his open collar, she forced herself to look away, desperate for a diversion. “Oh. A sales rack.” It wasn’t much but it would do. She took a step away.

  His fingers closed around her wrist. “Wait.”

  The contact jolted through her. “What?”

  “Just…don’t worry about prices, okay? Pick out what you like, and we’ll figure out the rest of it later.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, only to shut it again as the saleswoman walked up. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” the woman said. “Can I help you find something?”

  “No,” Angelica answered in the same breath that Riley said, “Yes. My wife needs something to wear to a wedding shower.”

  “Do you have a preference for dresses or slacks?”

  “Dresses,” Riley answered at the same time Angelica said “Pants.”

  Discreet amusement blossomed in the saleslady’s eyes. She glanced back and forth between them, then settled her gaze on Riley and smiled warmly. “Perhaps I could show you both?”

  “That’d be fine. We can start with this.” He indicated the jacket Angelica had been looking at moments earlier.

  “Oh, good choice. This comes with both a skirt and slacks.” She looked Angelica over as she fanned through the rack. “Size eight?”

  “Yes.”

  Quickly selecting a handful of items, the woman returned her gaze to Riley. “Is there anything else in particular you’d like to see?”

  “Yeah. How about that?” He indicated one of the display dresses, a sleeveless sheath that came with a short cashmere jacket, both in a luscious melon color with subtle beading at the hem and neck.

  In what seemed like no time, he and the saleslady had settled on half a dozen other outfits. Angelica found herself closeted in one of the two spacious dressing rooms at the back of the shop.

  Feeling a little dazed as she stared at all the beautiful clothing they’d selected, she took a deep breath and slowly stepped out of her sandals, unzipped her blue-and-green floral wrap skirt and unbuttoned her sleeveless white blouse. She folded them and set them on the plush chair in the corner, and, after a momentary hesitation, reached for an apricot-colored pantsuit.

  She slipped into the pants and top, not sure whether she felt relieved or disappointed as she found that the color was all wrong for her. Taking the outfit off, she hung it back on the hanger and in quick succession tried on two more ensembles, one white with mother of pearl buttons, the other a soft shade of lavender. Both fit well and looked great. Unable to decide which one she liked better, she set them aside and reached for the melon-colored dress.

  She carefully slid the finely-woven fabric over her head and twisted pretzel-like to zip it. Turning back around, she stepped into her medium-heeled sandals and faced the mirror, a little taken aback at her image. The dress fit as if made for her, the rich color the perfect foil for her silvery brown hair. She touched one of the delicate beaded flowers along the neckline, a little awed at how pretty the effect was.

  A familiar voice interrupted her reverie. “Angelica? How’s it going in there?”

  She cracked the door and peeked out. Riley was seated on a low velvet banquette, his long legs stretched out before him. Another man might have looked silly or uncomfortable in such feminine surroundings; he just looked bigger and more blatantly male.

  He looked at her inquiringly. “Well? Do I get to see or not?”

  Not, the wiser part of her thought in the same instant that its more reckless counterpart said, “Sure.” Committed, she stepped gingerly into the waiting area, pointedly not looking at the three-way mirror mounted on the opposite wall.

  Riley stood, and walked slowly around her. “I like it,” he said finally. “That’s a terrific color on you. What do you think?”

  What she thought was that it was an I-feel-beautiful dress and that she loved it. But she was also very aware that she hadn’t yet had the courage to look at the price tag. Reluctant to sound too enthusiastic until she had, she took a firm rein on her emotions. “It’s pretty.”

  “It’s more than that.” Before she could stop him, he stepped behind her and turned her to face the mirror. Gathering her hair into his hands, he smoothed it down her back, combing it with his fingers, before resting his palms on her shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

  Angelica’s breath caught. Not at her hair, or herself in the dress, but at the sight of the two of them together. She seemed to glow in the warmly-colored fabric, while Riley looked cool and austere in a pale gray shirt and slim gray slacks. His body framed hers, bigger, stronger, darker. The contrast between them made her think of sunshine and shadow, intrinsically linked, meant to be together.

  His gaze met hers in the mirror. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  She knew he didn’t mean the dress. Transfixed, she watched as he slid his tanned hands slowly down her paler arms, her lips parting at the delicious warmth of his palms. Wrapping his fingers around the soft skin above her elbows, he stepped closer, the heat from his body a brand against her back. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy, and yet she couldn’t quit watching as he bent his head toward her, slid a hand beneath her hair to rest against her nape and brushed his lips over the hypersensitive spot where her neck met the point of her jaw.

  Pleasure erupted. Her stomach somersaulted. As if watching someone else, she saw her head droop to the side, giving him better access, while she reached up to cup the strong, silky line of his jaw in her palm. Then she saw nothing as she closed her eyes and angled her head sideways, seeking his lips—

  “Is everything going all right?” the saleslady inquired a second before she swept into the dressing area.

  Startled, Angelica snapped her head up and spun sideways, out of Riley’s arms. Heat rising in her cheeks, she plastered a smile on her face, operating on instinct alone. “Everything’s fine.”

  The world’s biggest lie. Given another twenty-five seconds alone with Riley, who knew what she might have done?

  Blissfully ignorant of her inner turmoil, the saleslady beamed. “Oh, my, I should say so. That dress looks wonderful on you.” She shifted her gaze to Riley. “Don’t you agree?”

  He glanced sideways at Angelica, and she felt his hooded gaze like a heated touch. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Have you tried the jacket on yet?” the saleslady innocently inquired.

  “No, not yet.”

  “You really should. Just to make sure it fits, since the dress seems to be made for you.”

  “Yes, of course.” Excessively grateful for any excuse to escape, Angelica took a step toward the dressing room, only to rock to a stop as Riley got there before her, blocking the doorway.

  “I’ll get it.” He ducked inside. Emerging with the garment seconds later, he blandly addressed the saleslady. “You wouldn’t happen to have any suggestions for jewelry, would you?”

  “Well, yes, of course.” Clearly sensing a substantial sale in the works, the woman beamed and hurried back toward the merchandise area. “I’ll be right back to show you.”

  And just like that, they were alone. Again.

  “Shall we see how this looks?” Riley held up the jacket, motioning her to try it on, his expression as innocent as a choirboy’s.

  She pressed her hand to her tingling lips, and stared at him warily. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “Sure it is. But if it makes y
ou feel better, I swear that from now on, I’ll be on my best behavior. All you have to do is trust me.”

  Ah, there were those words again. Only unlike the last time he’d said them to her, this time there was a part of her that wanted to do just that.

  Not that she intended to lower her guard completely. But he was clearly making an effort; what could it hurt to try and meet him halfway?

  Gingerly, she turned and slipped her arms into the jacket.

  “Good choice,” Riley murmured, his gaze once more meeting hers in the mirror.

  Angelica wished she was half so sure as he was.

  Seven

  Riley settled the life-size stuffed panda bear on the family room couch. Fluffing the red satin bow that encircled the bear’s neck, he pushed an inquisitive Cosmo away and stepped back next to Angelica. Side-by-side, they contemplated his first purchase for their child. “So what do you think?”

  It was a moment before she answered. “I think buying a few boxes of diapers would have been a lot more practical.” Her attempt to sound stern was ruined by the gleam of amusement in her wide green eyes.

  He shrugged, unperturbed. “Maybe. But my guy’s going to look a whole lot better in the baby’s room.”

  “Now that, I concede.”

  “So what do you think we should call him? Pandas in zoos always seem to have two syllable names, Ling-Ling, Yum-Yum, that sort of thing.”

  She appeared to consider. “How about Boo-Boo?” she finally ventured.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Very funny.”

  Her mouth turned up. “I thought so.” After a moment, she sobered. “Riley?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I had a really nice time today. Thank you for taking me.”

  “My pleasure.” And it had been. Though his body had been humming like a downed electrical wire ever since their close encounter in the Los Palmas dressing room, he’d deliberately pulled back after that and set out to charm her. In addition to doing more shopping, he’d bought her dinner and dessert and entertained her with a few of the funnier stories of his misspent youth. And while his self-imposed restraint had been a strain, at some point he’d realized he was having fun.