Hoodwinked

by Diana Palmer

Maureen smiled in spite of herself. "It might seem like one, but it's a lot more difficult to live up to Prince Charming than you might think. He took me to lunch at one of those expensive restaurants and people looked at him like they thought he was crazy." She frowned thoughtfully. "Now, there's a possibility"

  "MacFaber isn't crazy. He makes other people crazy," Charlene assured her. "Can I see your ring?"

  Maureen held out her hand. The diamond caught the light and exploded into color like a prism of ice.

  "It's incredible," Charlene exclaimed with a sigh.

  "My life is incredible." Maureen shook her head. "I can't imagine how I'm going to cope. I love him, you know, but it's going to be pure culture shock."

  "All you have to do is smile and spend money," Charlene assured her.

  But after the other woman had gone, Maureen's smile fell into a frown. Money wasn't that important in her life. Love was. She wanted Jake to herself. She didn't want to have to share him with business, so that she came out on the short end of the stick as far as time shares went. She wanted to go places with him and have time to just sit and talk. She wanted to relax with him in the evenings. All that would have satisfied her a lot more than the latest designer dresses and plenty of spending money. She had a feeling that millionaires' wives were the loneliest people on earth.

  She typed out her resignation and, since she had no one to give it to, she laid it on Mr. Blake's old desk before she went home. She patted her little VW as she got into it and had a sudden cold thought that it would be one of the casualties of her new lifestyle, because Jake Edwards might not have minded it in his driveway, but she was sure Joseph MacFaber wasn't going to want it in his garage next to the Rolls.

  "Don't you worry," she told it when she parked it in the driveway, patting its faded dash. "I'll hide you out in the woods if I have to, but they're not going to consign you to the garbage dump."

  She went into the apartment and fed Bagwell, who enthused over the carrot she'd cut up for him and made soft purring sounds to himself as he ate it.

  She ruffled his green head and cooked herself a bowl of chili. It would have been nice if she'd had someone to eat it with.

  As she savored her spicy meal, she wished her parents were still alive. It would have been nice to call and tell them about her engagement, about Jake. They'd have asked about him, and she'd have told them that he was very handsome and very strong and that he had a kind heart. Then they'd have asked if he could support her, and she'd have smiled as she told them what he did for a living.

  The thought made her sad. Tears ran down her cheeks and fell onto the place mat. It seemed ironic that a person could wait years for something incredible to happen, and then when it did, there was nobody to tell.

  She washed her bowl and poured herself another cup of coffee. The one bright spot in her life was that Jake was going to marry her. She looked at the engagement ring glittering on her finger and smiled, pressing her lips to it. He wanted to spend his life with her and give her children. She flushed, remembering what he'd said the day before, his body so tender as it overwhelmed hers, his hands gentle, preparing her for the shock of possession. It had been easier than she'd ever dreamed and more powerful and awesome than anything she'd ever felt. She was his now, and he was hers. Even if she only saw him once in a while, it was enough that she could live with him. And he did want her, if nothing else. Maybe someday he'd even learn to love her.

  It was almost midnight when he knocked on her kitchen door. She was still wearing her jeans and T-shirt, curled up on the couch watching the late show since the next morning was Saturday. Bagwell's cage was covered and he was asleep.

  "You look terrible," she told the weary man outside the door.

  "I feel terrible," he said, even his voice drooping. "I've just now got out of another meeting. You can't imagine how complicated it is to have a production error that isn't found in the early stages of testing."

  She stood back to let him enter the apartment. His tie was hanging loosely around his neck and his jacket was looped over his shoulder by a finger. His shirt was open at the throat. His dark eyes were bloodshot and there were new lines in his broad, deeply tanned face.

  "Do you want coffee, or would you rather lay your head in my lap and go to sleep?" she asked gently.

  He pulled her against him and kissed her with lazy tenderness. "Can I have both?"

  "With my blessing."

  She poured him a cup of black coffee and watched him slump beside her on the sofa. His thick dark hair was tousled. He had a shadow of beard on his square jaw. He looked as if he'd been run over by a big truck, and she said so.

  He laughed. "I guess I do. I feel that way. Damned red tape." He sipped his coffee with his eyes barely open. "The blood test is at ten in the morning. We can't forget."

  "We won't." She smoothed back his unruly hair, loving the freedom to touch him. "Poor, tired man."

  He caught her hand and pressed it to lips that were hot from the coffee. "I've never had anyone to come home to before." His head turned and his dark eyes searched her face. "It feels nice, Maureen."

  "I'm glad. I've never had anyone come home to me before, and that feels nice, too," she said, smiling at him. "I thought I'd live and die alone." Her eyes lowered to the neck of his shirt, and she was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him. She wasn't even embarrassed about the intimacy they'd shared. It seemed natural and right, a part of their togetherness. "I can get contact lenses, if you'd like," she ventured. "They might improve me a little."

  "You don't need improving," he replied, smiling back at her. "I like you as you are, glasses and all."

  That lifted her spirits. "How about if I have my hair permed and tinted green and pink, then?" she added with a grin. "I could throw wild parties with punk-rock themes and make your name a household word."

  He laughed. It surprised him that he should do it so easily with her, when he'd hardly laughed in his life before she came along. "I don't care what you do," he replied. "But I'm not tinting my hair pink and green for you."

  "It would bring you closer to your employees."

  "Certainlythey'd be after me with a fishnet!"

  She laid her head against his big arm with a sigh. "I'm a different person when I'm with you," she remarked quietly. "You bring out qualities I didn't know I had. I'm really very shy around people as a rule."

  "You were shy last night, kitten," he whispered at her temple. "Most of the time, anyway."

  She flushed and buried her face against him. "Stop."

  She looked up into his eyes with those memories in hers, too. "How could you be that tender after two whole years of going without a woman?" she asked huskily.

  "You were a virgin," he said simply. His mouth brushed hers softly, "I couldn't very well put my own pleasure above yours, could I?"

  "From what I've read, some men do."

  "I care about you," he whispered. He teased her mouth with his. "Was it what you expected?"

  "Not really," she confessed shyly. "I could never have imagined doing that outside in broad daylight."

  "We were safe enough. No one ever visits either one of us, and there aren't any curious neighbors or children around. We're very secluded here." He searched her eyes and his own began to darken. "I enjoyed you more than you'll ever know. But I want you to know that I didn't plan what happened between us. I never meant it to go that far, but once I felt your body against mine with nothing in the way, it was just impossible for me to stop."

  She smiled to herself. "Every time I remember what we did last night, I want you again," she whispered.

  His hand caught her hair and held her head where he wanted it as he bent and covered her mouth with his. He brought her closer, building the kiss until she was as hungry as he was, until his tongue penetrated her mouth and she moaned, wanting his hands on her.

  "I want you, too," he whispered into her mouth. "But this is all we're going to do. If you want me again, you're going to have to marry me first.
"

  "Blackmail," she moaned.

  "Call it what you will." His mouth bit into hers roughly and then he sat up and finished his coffee. "I can't remember when I was this tired. I've got to have some sleep." He looked down at her with a rueful smile. "I don't want to go home, but if I stay here, we'll have each other before morning. I can't sit within a foot of you without catching fire."

  "That's very flattering."

  "It's very incapacitating, too," he said, grinning.

  She laughed as he stood up and stretched lazily. "You can sleep until nine, and I'll phone you. We'll get our blood tests and apply for the license"

  "It's Saturday," she pointed out.

  "I'm a millionaire," he reminded her. "Money opens doors."

  "I guess it does," she said vaguely.

  "Besides all that, Saturday isn't a national holiday."

  She made a face at him. "Don't expect me to think. I've had a shocking day."

  "And a shocking night before it?" he mused.

  She glared. "You weren't always experienced," she accused.

  "No, I wasn't. My first time, I chickened out and ran," he confessed with a chuckle. "I don't know who was more shockedthe woman or me."

  "Obviously there was a next time," she murmured, lowering her eyes. "You know too much for a man who's never indulged."

  "I'm a man," he said, pulling her up to stand in front of him. "I had to learn how to be one. But I never got a woman pregnant or seduced virgins." He smiled ruefully. "Until yesterday, anyway."

  "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound jealous."

  "I like having you jealous," he said quietly. "And if you want the truth, there haven't been that many women. I've been very selective, and I haven't wanted a close relationship. Not until you came along and knocked me off my feet."

  "I'm not pretty"

  "Honey, you're a knockout," he said, his voice deep and velvety. "It's what's inside that makes you beautiful. You've got a heart the size of Kansas, and when you love, you do it with your soul. I wouldn't trade you for Helen of Troy."

  "Oh, Jake," she whispered.

  He kissed her roughly and pushed her away. "Stop looking at me like that," he ground out. "I'm already shaking, I want you so badly."

  "We could"

  "No, we couldn't," he said shortly. "I'll let myself out. Go to bed. We've got a big day ahead of us."

  He turned toward the door, but he hesitated at it, regretting his sharp tone. "Men get grumpy when they're frustrated," he said uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

  "I know," she said and smiled gently. "Good night."

  He caught his breath at the radiance in her face. His dark eyes slid over her body in the simple T-shirt and jeans, and he almost groaned aloud remembering how it looked and felt and tasted without clothing. He remembered her eyes looking up at him, wide with wonder and pleasure, the sounds breaking from her tight throat, the feel of her soft hands on the strained muscles of his back

  "Good night," he choked and got out quickly.

  They had the blood tests the next morning and got the license. The ceremony was arranged for Monday. It would have to be a civil service, Jake informed her, because he had to fly to Chicago that night for a meeting.

  Maureen was shocked that he couldn't even find one full day off to get married. "But it will be our wedding day," she said hesitantly.

  He stared at her with narrowed eyes. "I'm not a 'mechanic' anymore. I head a giant corporation, and I've already had hell keeping it together because I spent the last year delegating too much authority. I've spent the past few weeks finding out why my jet wouldn't fly. I'm out of time, Maureen. The honeymoon will have to wait."

  "Then, can I come to Chicago with you?" she asked hopefully. "I'll be very quiet"

  He moved closer to her and took her gently by the arms. "I don't like it any more than you do. You can come if you like, but I'll be gone almost all night. We'll see very little of each other. And I have to be there four days or sowhat about Bagwell?"

  She grimaced. "I can't board him. He'd die away from me. And I can't take him with me"

  "We've got our whole lives ahead of us, baby," he said quietly. "These few days aren't going to matter. Especially," he added ruefully, "when we've already jumped the gun and had our wedding night."

  She colored and lowered her eyes to his chest. "Yes, I know. Istill feel rather guilty about that."

  "You might not believe it, but so do I," he said surprisingly. "That's why I've insisted that we wait until we're married. Don't make such a big thing of it, okay? It's just for a few days. I'll call you when I can. Be a good girl and use the time to wind things down at the office and get your gear together. When I come home we'll go find a house to live in."

  She gave in, because what else was there to do? She'd known when she agreed to marry him that his main interest was his corporation. She could hardly ask him to throw it to the wolves just for her.

  "Okay," she agreed and tried to smile. "I won't make a fuss."

  "I didn't think you would," he said easily. "You aren't the demanding type. That's one reason I married you. I don't want a woman who clings and can't manage if I'm not home every night. That's why I've never married before. I like my freedom."

  She remembered those words with a shudder when she went to bed. He liked his freedom and the corporation came first. Where was she going to fit into his life? Was she going to fit at all?

  He was giving her an impossible choice. She wanted to marry him, because she loved him. But it wasn't working out the way she'd expected.

  She went to church alone on Sunday. He hadn't called, and he didn't answer his phone when she tried to call him. But he phoned her after church and agreed rather reluctantly to come to supper that night, but he was preoccupied and left early to make a long-distance phone call. Even his good-night kiss was absent, as if he'd only just remembered that he needed to kiss his fiancée good-night.

  Maureen was getting more nervous by the minute. She didn't sleep that night, worrying about whether or not to go through with the wedding. MacFaber didn't love her, and that was one strike against them already. They had different backgrounds and different life-styles, and that was another. She didn't know if they had any chance at all, but she loved him too much to back down and call it off. Maybe things would change, she thought. Maybe he'd fall in love with her and want her so badly that he couldn't bear to spend a night away from her. She hugged that thought to herself as she finally fell asleep, long after midnight.

  They were married at ten o'clock in the morning by a justice of the peace, with Charlene and one of the executive vice presidentsCharlene's fiancéas witnesses. Maureen cried at the simple beauty of the service, standing proudly beside Jake in a white suit and white hat with a tiny veil. When he put her wedding ring on her finger and kissed her, the tears were still there, but she smiled through them with pure joy.

  There wasn't time for a reception, so they thanked the witnesses and went home so that Jake could pack for the flight to Chicago.

  She'd half expected that once they were in her apartment he might want her, since they were married now. But he sat down at her table while she made coffee, and his eyes stared blankly into space as if he were thinking.

  "Well, we're married," she said when she'd put coffee and rolls in front of him and was sitting across from him.

  "So we are." He sipped his coffee. "Do you want to go house hunting while I'm away, or do it when I come home?"

  "I'd like to go with you," she said. "It wouldn't be fair for me to pick out someplace alone."

  "Why not?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "After all, you're the one who'll be there most of the time. I'll be away sometimes for a week or two at a stretch, and most nights I work until nearly midnight. On weekends I have business meetings and conferences, and even when I'm home, I'll have reports and statements to go over and decisions to make."

  She could have cried. It was her wedding day, and he was already talking about leavi
ng her alone most of the time in the future. "Do we get any time together, Jake?" she asked miserably.

  He didn't like the hurt look in her eyes or the plaintive tone. He hadn't thought of Maureen as a clinging woman, and he didn't think he could manage to live with her if she turned into one. Better, he thought, to nip this in the bud now. He glared at her. "I don't make the rules. A corporation runs on the brains of its management, and I've spent too much time delegating responsibility. I did it so well that it almost lost the business for me. I can't fall back into that rut again. I've tried to explain to you that my corporation is the biggest part of my life. I hope you don't expect to replace it with a few pleasant hours in your bed?"

  She went red. "I don't understand."

  "What I mean, Mrs. MacFaber," he said with a mocking smile, "is that you have a sweet body and I enjoy it very much. But sex is only one small part of my life, not the whole ball game."

  Her world was coming down around her ears. She was hearing him tell her quite plainly that he'd only married her because he enjoyed her body in bed; that outside it, he had no interest in her.

  "Is that why you married me?" she faltered. "Because you wanted to sleep with me?"

  He took a harsh breath. That wasn't how he'd meant to put it. She was backing him into a corner. "You know why I married you," he said, his tone curt and commanding. "I enjoy being with you—when you aren't giving me the third degree." He stood up. "I'd better get packed. Listen," he added, pausing at the door to look back at her with cold, chilling eyes, "don't start trying to tie me down. I've done things my own way for a long time. The last thing I need is a possessive woman. Do we understand each other?"

  She had to grit her teeth to keep from making a scene. It was her wedding day, and he was treating her like an unwanted piece of furniture.

  "Yes, I understand," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "You don't eveneven want me?" she whispered.

  The answer seemed to take forever. "Now, you mean?" he asked.

  She nodded, her cheeks reddening.

  He laughed mirthlessly. "It won't work," he said coolly. "You won't convince me to take you to Chicago that way," he went on when he saw her perplexed stare.