CINDERELLA BRIDE

by Monica McLean

  Carter frowned and flipped a page in his notepad. "Any idea who?"

  "Not at this point. I got a tip from a friend of a friend."

  "Hmm. Can you look into this for me?"

  "Sure thing. I'll get on it right away."

  "Thanks, Mike. Oh, and one other thing. See if you can figure out what they're after."

  "Will do, Mr. King."

  Carter's jaw tightened as he replaced the receiver. He remembered Marly accusing him of snooping into her past when he told her about the background check he'd run. She sure as hell wasn't going to like knowing someone else was doing the same. Especially if that someone was Billy Ray.

  Carter wondered what he wanted and why he was so interested. Billy Ray wasn't going to find anything incriminating, if that was the objective, but the fact that he was looking didn't sit well with Carter.

  He leaned his hip against the counter and frowned at the blank page in his notebook. Then he scribbled some notes, tore out the page and tucked it into his briefcase before going back to the bedroom to dress for work.

  "Good morning," a soft voice greeted him when he entered the room.

  Something tightened in his gut. "'Morning," he replied, checking to make sure the towel around his waist was still secure. "Sleep okay?"

  "Umm-hmm." She looked warm and tousled, propped up on one elbow. When she wouldn't look at him, he read the faint pink glow in her cheeks as embarrassment. And for some reason, that bothered him.

  It took every ounce of his willpower not to cross the room and crawl into bed with her. He could spend the entire day reacquainting himself with her body—never mind that he had every line and curve already etched in his mind. He would trace every pattern again, some maybe twice, others maybe more. He would match the feel of her to the sight, and he would drink it in. And when he was done, she would know there was nothing even remotely embarrassing about her body.

  "I didn't hear the shower." She finally raised her gaze to his and asked, "Have you been up long?"

  He almost laughed at the double meaning. If she had glanced down, she would have seen the unconcealable bulge beneath his towel, but she didn't. So he didn't tell her the sight of her waking up was one of the most incredible turn-ons he could remember. "Not too long," he answered, instead. "I need to get to the office. I'll pick you up at your center around noon, if that's all right. We can ride over to the courthouse together."

  She nodded and drew the covers back, glancing down at her bare legs, then back up at Carter. Slowly.

  He knew the instant she recognized the evidence of his arousal. Her gaze flew to his, and for a long moment, they both stared at each other in silent acknowledgment of what had passed between them.

  But Carter could look only so long before he wanted to take, and then it wouldn't be long before he'd want to take again and again.

  "Bathroom's free if you want it," he said, ducking into his closet. He dressed quickly after grabbing the first navy suit, white shirt and red tie he could find. He took his shoes back to the bed and sat down to pull on a pair of dress socks.

  Marly hadn't closed the bathroom door, and he watched through the corner of his eye as she dragged a brush through her hair, the lines of her body feminine and graceful.

  Other memories of her body washed over him in a heated rush, and before he could steer his thoughts away, he was remembering the night before in vivid detail. Her soft scent and sweet taste, the sound of her labored breathing, the feel of her slippery warmth and the wide-eyed look of surprise on her face just before she found release.

  His loins tightened painfully, and he shot to his feet. He grabbed the car keys from the dresser and shoved them in his pocket. "See you around noon."

  He couldn't dash out of the house fast enough. Every second he passed in Marly's presence sapped him of more and more self-control. And soon, if he didn't get a grip, he was going to be fresh out. If he wasn't already.

  Carter swore and shook his head. The model he'd set up on his spreadsheet had told him Marly was different, that she was special, that she was his last hope. But the model had been way off base in measuring one critical factor: his attraction to Marly.

  Like it or not, he wanted her in ways he'd never wanted another woman, and that gave him reason to be afraid. Very afraid.

  * * *

  She was afraid. Very afraid. Before last night, Marly wouldn't have guessed intimacy had so many facets. She'd never let another soul know about her nightmares. They were too real, too personal. The side of her Carter had seen she'd never shared with anyone. And the side of her that he brought out she'd never known existed. It was, by far, the most mind-blowing experience of her life. He had rescued her from the depths of terror and taken her to unparalleled heights of ecstasy.

  Every nerve ending in her body buzzed alive when he'd walked into the bedroom that morning, wearing nothing but a towel. He was the most virile man she'd ever seen, tall and broad, with ropes of muscle everywhere. And oh, how the sight of his obvious attraction to her had made her hands itch.

  She'd wanted to run her fingers along his neck, feel the strength of his arms, touch her lips to his bare chest. She had wanted him with a hunger she didn't know she had. He had awakened something in her, and she didn't know if she would ever be the same again.

  That afternoon, in the car on their way to the courthouse where they would soon marry, she felt a sense of connection with him, a sense of belonging with him. It frightened her to trust him on yet another level, to allow him any closer to her inner fortress, but last night, he had made her feel so safe and protected. Oddly, he'd made her feel cherished.

  How was she supposed to keep the fortress around her heart intact when he was so adept at scaling walls?

  Marly shivered at the memory of coming apart in his arms and rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms.

  "You okay?" Carter glanced over at her.

  She nodded. "Fine."

  "Did you talk to Tyler this morning?"

  "Umm-hmm. He's keeping up a brave front, but he misses his mother terribly."

  "He has a session with the child psychologist today. I'll call later and see how it went."

  "Thanks. I appreciate that." She wiggled the ring on her third finger, already growing attached to it, reassured by its presence. Reassured by the man behind the symbol.

  "You don't have to take the flowers inside if you don't want to."

  "I want to," she said, lifting the small bouquet of white roses to inhale their perfume. She wore a simple linen suit she'd picked up from Annie Lou's that morning, and the roses added a touch of understated elegance. "They're beautiful." She smiled at his handsome profile, marveling that the strong and powerful Carter King was also a man capable of such gentleness, such selflessness, such giving.

  She found herself suddenly curious about his first marriage, what had gone wrong and why it hadn't worked. She built up her nerve and finally broached the subject.

  Carter shrugged and flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. "There isn't much to tell," he said, repositioning one hand on the top of the steering wheel. With the other, he rubbed the back of his neck.

  "What was her name?"

  "Eva Ann."

  "Why didn't it work between you?"

  "We were very different people. Different backgrounds, different outlooks. She came from a rich and powerful family, and I… Well, you know about me."

  "And that's why you divorced her?" Marly asked.

  "I didn't divorce her. She divorced me. You see, when her daddy found out his little girl had married a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, well, let's just say they didn't want to muddy the lineage with my kind."

  Marly smarted. "That's the most absurd statement I've ever heard."

  "What can I say? It was my own fault. I should have told her the truth before we got married. I guess deep inside I always knew how she would react. And the more time that passed … well, it just snowballed in the end. That's why I don't want any secrets between us, Marly,
why I had to come clean with you. I wanted you to know exactly what you were getting into."

  She couldn't bear to look at him then, to flaunt her deception in his face, so she stared straight ahead. "But if you were in love—"

  "We were never in love. Only I was fool enough to believe anything else. And don't worry, I'm not about to go repeating that mistake, either."

  Marly bit her lip. She knew he meant the words to reassure her, so why did she feel something inside her dying just a little? Had the events of last night somehow given her a glimmer of hope where none should have existed?

  She was a fraud, and that would never change. Her lies would forever hang between them, preventing anything more than the arrangement to which they'd mutually consented.

  "Carter?" she asked, trying to squash the hurt she had no right to feel. "There's something else I've been meaning to ask you. About last night…"

  "Last night was for you."

  "No, not that." She felt the stain of a blush creeping up her cheeks and hoped he wouldn't notice. "When I told you about the fire that burned my hands, you said you already knew. Was this part of the background check you had done on me?"

  "Marly, I hope you can understand why I would—"

  She waved away the rest of his explanation. "It's water under the bridge. I was just wondering how much you know."

  He frowned as though he hadn't anticipated that question.

  "Just the facts, I guess."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, I know it happened overseas, when you were in the Peace Corps. Your village caught fire."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yeah. I know about your friend who died. I'm sorry."

  She nodded and looked down at her hands. "Do you know anything about her? My friend?"

  "No, should I?"

  She shrugged. "Her name was Hilary. Her family was a lot like Eva Ann's, but she was different." She stared at her diamond ring as it sparkled in the sunlight. "She would have been honored to be your wife."

  A warm hand touched her sleeve, followed by a brief squeeze. "Thank you," Carter whispered. His voice sounded rough, strained.

  Marly glanced up, and in the split second when their gazes met and held, she felt something reach out and touch her deep inside. When he turned his attention back to the road, she tried to do the same, but it didn't work.

  She rubbed her thumb against the band on the inside of her finger and reminded herself that she'd gone into this arrangement with her eyes wide-open. Carter had been straightforward with her about his past and his intentions for the future. He didn't want or need her love.

  But what if she needed his?

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  « ^ »

  Had he been a true gentleman, Carter might have softened his words when he told Marly he wasn't about to go repeating past mistakes, but he had to make sure she understood that love wasn't part of their agreement. Not now. Not ever. That didn't mean he didn't care about her, that he didn't think the world of her as a generous and giving person … as a warm and sensual woman. More sensual than he'd expected, more than was probably safe, more—

  "Carter?" the justice of the peace was asking.

  Maybe if she looked at him, if she gave him a sign. Any sign. Distress. Disgust. Anything. But she couldn't—or she wouldn't—look anywhere except straight ahead. She'd even signed the marriage license without blinking, didn't stiffen a bit when he'd asked if she'd take his name. No arguments. Nothing.

  So the white-trash boy from the projects decided to continue tempting fate, continue reaping what he'd never been intended to sow. Because, after all, Carter knew that although he could pretend to be a gentleman, deep down he could never change who he was. And finding Marly was the best thing that ever happened to him. Yeah, he was a selfish bastard to the core.

  "I do," he whispered, gazing down at the top of Marly's strawberry-blond head.

  He would make it up to her. He would. He knew their ceremony was nothing like the kind most women dreamed about, but she wouldn't live to regret their union, regret becoming his wife. No, not at all. Short of actually loving her, he would be the best damn husband in the world. She would see.

  "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

  The bride stared somewhere over his shoulder as she lifted her face for him. Her lips didn't even move as he brushed his mouth over hers.

  In that brief moment, he felt a stab of regret for what he knew could never be, for the boundaries that would forever separate them, the white-trash boy and his Cinderella bride.

  He stepped back, and Marly's gaze fluttered away.

  "Thank you," she said to the justice of the peace and the witnesses. After walking a few feet, she paused without looking back.

  Carter gave his own thanks and shook everyone's hand, trying to ignore the judge's raised eyebrow, then went after Marly.

  She waited until he fell in step beside her, then walked with him as far as the door, without speaking.

  "Carter?" she finally said.

  "Yeah?" They stared at each other, and he wondered if she felt any different, or if it was just him. He wanted to ask her a million things. He wanted to drop to his knees and thank her for giving him this chance, to reassure her that he wouldn't blow it.

  "I have to deposit the check," she said quietly.

  The check. Carter rubbed the bridge of his nose to refocus. A business transaction. This is a business transaction.

  When he didn't respond right away, she added, "I suppose I should switch my account to your bank."

  "That would probably be good." He forced a smile and opened the door. "I'll walk you over."

  "Thanks."

  "Sure."

  She paused in the doorway and worried her lower lip. "I mean, for everything, Carter. I just hope I won't disappoint you."

  He smiled then, for real this time, and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lip. "You couldn't disappoint me, Marly." He kissed her quickly, ending it before she had time to react. "Come on. Let's deposit that check."

  They stepped outside into the sunshine. Marly took his proffered arm, and they walked the few blocks to the bank together. Carter introduced her to everyone as the new Mrs. King, which raised more than a few eyebrows.

  "Your wife?" one of the longtime tellers exclaimed. Damn, but he liked the sound of it. "That's right." Carter put a hand on Marly's shoulder, squeezing softly.

  "Well now, just how long have you been keeping this little lady a secret, Mr. King? Far as I can tell, you've been hoarding her all to yourself!"

  "That's right. Jonathan. She's all mine."

  The teller laughed, and Marly glanced up to shoot Carter a warning look, but he didn't care. She was his wife, and he wanted all the world to know.

  "Hey, there's someone I'd like you to meet," he said, after they'd opened two new accounts, one joint and one for Little Learners.

  "Carter, I don't have much time. Maybe we can do introductions another day." She indicated the face of her watch. "I have to be back at the center in half an hour."

  "It'll only take a minute."

  "Carter?" She turned around, placed her hand on his sleeve, the first physical contact she'd initiated that day. "Do we have to do it just now? I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

  He touched her fingers, held them under his own hand, wanting to tell her not to worry, that she wouldn't regret her decision. "Marly—"

  She squeezed his arm. "Please?"

  "Okay." He scowled and hung his head. "I just wanted to show you off."

  "Oh, for Pete's sake." She grimaced. "You have got to be the world's biggest ham. You know that?"

  He looked up. "Is that good or bad?"

  "I'm not sure yet, but you can quit with the boo-boo face. I work with kids, remember? I know a pout when I see one."

  "Is it working?"

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. "One more introduction and then we're going."

  "Great." He grinned and ste
ered her toward the mayor's wife and made introductions. All the while, he kept hearing the same two words echoing in his mind: my wife.

  Marly Alcott was his wife now.

  Marly King.

  His breath quickened, as an unexpected wave of possessiveness shuddered through him.

  Carter gritted his teeth. Damn, if he wasn't doomed already.

  * * *

  Alone in her office at Little Learners that evening, Marly twisted her wedding band around so the channel-set diamonds faced upward. Her eyes grew misty, and she clamped them shut, warning herself not to succumb to melodrama.

  But behind her closed lids, she saw her new husband—her beautiful, handsome new husband—slide the wedding band over her finger. It was a moment she wouldn't soon forget.

  She'd been so overcome with emotion she could barely speak. She'd been afraid that if she even looked at him, she would burst into tears.

  God help her, she'd never realized it was possible to ache for another person the way she ached for Carter. She couldn't get him out of her mind; couldn't stop thinking about him, remembering him.

  What had he started? What had he awakened in her?

  All these nerve endings she hadn't even realized she had were now buzzing alive. First her heart and now her body, and somehow the two had intertwined in their longings.

  Did that explain the heaviness in her heart, the dull throbbing low in her belly when Carter had put his arm around her and introduced her to everyone at the bank?

  It scared her to admit the depth of her need for him, even to herself. She wanted him. It was that simple and that complicated. She wanted Carter as she'd wanted no other man. She wanted to be his wife, in every sense of the word. But what scared her most was the unmistakable yearning for the one thing she couldn't have.

  She didn't suffer from any grandiose illusions. He'd seen to that. He treated her like a princess, in all but one regard.

  So why did she have to keep reminding herself that love wasn't on her agenda, either? Why couldn't she be happy for what she had? Why did the knowledge that her otherwise-perfect husband would never love her have to hurt so badly?