by Sandra Brown
Tossing her hair back and looking at him boldly, she said, "I'm proud of you and
Mandy. I want to show you off to my friends. I want everyone in town to know
how glad I am to be your wife."
Lest she see how much her declaration affected him, James stood up abruptly and
went to the window, keeping his back to the room. He wanted to say, "You'd do
that for me? Why?" And he fantasized her saying back, "Because I love you."
But if he was anything, he was a realist. Life had taught him to be. He was afraid
to force the issue with Laura because he was still ambivalent about his feelings
toward her.
And what if, God forbid, he was reading her the wrong way? She just might be
glad to be his wife because she now had a bottomless checking account.
She certainly hadn't squandered money, had even been reluctant to accept the
checkbook he had given her. But he'd been around enough conniving women to be
mistrustful of motives that seemed sincere. The fact remained that he had bailed
Laura Nolan out of a jam. It might be that what he was seeing in her blue eyes
every time she looked at him was nothing more than gratitude.
The last thing he wanted from her was gratitude. What man with guts and
intelligence wanted gratitude from a lovely, sexy, vibrant woman? Not me! So
when he answered, his voice held more annoyance than he intended. "Fine.
Whatever you want to do."
Crestfallen over his lack of enthusiasm for her idea, Laura excused herself and
took Mandy upstairs. That night when James joined her in bed, he turned away
from her.
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There were no caresses. There were no kisses. Not even in the dark.
* * *
Stubbornly Laura put her plans for the party into effect.
She ordered the invitations the following morning. A week later, as she sat
pondering the guest list at the secretary in the parlor, James came striding in, his
boot heels thudding heavily on the hardwood floors.
Bracing his arms on the back of her chair, he leaned over and read her list of
things to order. At the side of that column, she had neatly made another of how
much she had budgeted for each item. "Don't scrimp on anything. Let's do it up
right, show these snooty Gregorians how it's done. "
"Are you sure you want to give me carte blanche?" she asked teasingly, looking up
at him. "I have expensive taste."
He kissed the tip of her nose lightly, then her lips. "Your expensive taste is one of
the things I like best about you." When he smiled that insinuating smile, her
insides melted. Her heart beat heavily. "Can you spare a minute?"
"Yes." There was a husky quality to her voice. She was hoping he might suggest
that they go upstairs to bed.
Instead he took her hand. "Come outside. I have something to show you."
Hiding her disappointment, she let him lead her to the front door, which he
opened with a flourish. His green eyes were dancing mischievously.
When Laura stepped through the door, her mouth fell open with surprise. Three
horse trailers were parked end to end in the driveway. She recognized the horses
being backed out of them.
"Those are … that's…" Tears welled in her eyes.
"Thought you might recognize them."
"Oh, James!" She turned to face him. "How did you find them?"
"Connections," he said with a lazy, conceited smile.
"James." She flung herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Burying her face in the hollow of his throat, she hugged him hard. "Thank you,"
she whispered fiercely before releasing him and racing down the front steps to
welcome home the horses that had been sold months before.
It would be difficult to determine who was the most excited that morning, Laura
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or Mandy, who became the ecstatic owner of a pony. The horses were walked into
the stalls, which Bo had been secretly preparing for them. Mandy was outfitted
with a saddle and received her first riding lesson from Laura. Only a promise from
Laura that they would ride again the next day succeeded in bribing her out of the
stable to take a bath before dinner.
Laura was giving her favorite mount a rubdown when James joined her in the
shadowy barn. "Thank you again," she said.
"I liked the way you thanked me earlier better."
He was leaning against a support post, one knee bent, his foot propping him up.
His eyes maintained their insolence, but she read the challenge in them. Dropping
her currycomb, she moved out of the stall and went to stand directly in front of
him and between his thighs. "You mean like this?" She folded her arms around his
neck.
"Uh-huh." He linked his hands together behind her at her waist.
"Why did you do it?"
"What, buy the horses back?" When she nodded, he said, "Two reasons. I thought
I might win a few points with you."
"You did. What's the second reason?"
"I like what your cute little butt does to a pair of ordinary blue jeans." He slid his
hands into the seat pockets of her jeans and pulled her forward until her front was
pleasantly complementing his.
"Thank you kindly, sir, but what does that have to do—"
"You ride horses, you wear jeans."
"Hmm, I get your drift."
"Move against me like that again, baby, and you'll get more than my drift."
He barely got the words out before he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her
soundly. But, unfortunately, before the kiss had a chance to develop into
something more, they were interrupted.
"Excuse me, James, but there's a long distance call for you." Hat in hand, Bo stood
hesitantly in the square of light at the stable door.
James's mutterings were obscene as he stalked from the stable.
* * *
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After that, things became considerably more strained between them, rather than
the reverse.
Laura had fully expected him to make love to her that night. Mentally and
emotionally she prepared herself for it. She primped for an hour in the dressing
area before sliding between the scented sheets of the master bed.
When James stayed downstairs talking business into the telephone long after she
had retired, she felt humiliated and rejected. By the time he came upstairs, she
had whipped her temper into a fine froth.
"Must you make so much racket when you tramp upstairs?" She lit into him the
instant he closed their bedroom door. "Sherman's troops didn't make that much
noise on their march across Georgia."
James had telephoned everybody in his address book while trying to decide if he
had the finesse, the gentle technique, needed to make love to a virgin. He knew
Laura had great expectations based upon his reputation as a lover without equal.
He was touchy, to say the least. He had anticipated a limpid look and a soft touch,
but got instead daggers and claws. He immediately took offense. "So sorry,
madam, to have disturbed your beauty rest."
Laura flopped back down on the pillow. Animosity seethed between them when he
got into bed. Not only were the caresses and kisses dispensed with, there weren't
even any good nights spoken, though both lay awake for a long time.
The next day their tempers flared several times. The climate in the house was so
turbulent whenever she and James shared a room, that Laura decided it would be
prudent if they got away from each other for a while. She volunteered to run a few
household errands for Gladys and took Mandy with her for company.
The hardware store was the last stop on their list. To get there, they had to pass
the house where Leona Paden resided. On impulse, Laura wheeled into the
narrow driveway and parked behind a modest recent-model car.
"Where are we going, Mommy?" Mandy asked.
The name Mandy used so naturally to address her never failed to bring a pleased
smile to Laura's face. "To visit a lady. Be on your best behavior, okay?"
Laura had butterflies in her stomach as they alighted from the car. What she was
about to do was risky. She was toying with something that was none of her
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business, but it bothered her tremendously that James ignored his mother's
existence. She intended to right that wrong if at all possible.
The brick house was small, but tidy. The front sidewalk was bordered with
periwinkles. Holding Mandy's hand, Laura rang the doorbell. Moments later the
front door was opened by James's mother. The woman's shock couldn't have been
affected. After a moment of stunned silence, she said, "Laura Nolan, isn't it?"
"Hello, Mrs. Paden. I didn't know whether you'd remember me or not."
"You're married to James now."
"Yes."
"I read about it in the paper. Would you like to come in?" Her hospitality was
almost apologetic, and Laura's heart opened up to the woman she knew must have
suffered terribly in her lifetime.
"I'd love to visit with you for a minute. If we wouldn't be a bother."
"Lordy, no." Mrs. Paden pushed open the screen door and moved aside so Laura
and Mandy could step into a spotless living room. She looked down at Mandy and
extended her hand toward the child, withdrawing it before she actually touched
her. "Is this…?" A tremor shook her, and she was unable to complete her question.
Laura answered it for her. "This is Mandy." She gave Mandy a gentle nudge
forward.
It wasn't really necessary. The little girl's sweet personality prevailed. "Hello. My
name is Mandy Paden, and this is Annmarie." She held up the doll that was never
far from her. "Annmarie's my best friend. Except for Mommy and Daddy. Do you
know my daddy?"
What ensued was one of the most emotionally wrenching hours Laura had ever
spent in her life. She rarely knew whether to smile at Mandy's candid chatter or to
cry over Mrs. Paden's visible greed to hear it. When she left, she embraced the
older woman and made a promise. "We'll come again soon."
Mandy talked about her new friend all the way home. When they pulled into the
driveway, Laura said, "Mandy, about this afternoon, let's keep it a—"
"There's Daddy!"
Before Laura could caution Mandy to keep their visit to Mrs. Paden a secret,
Mandy opened the car door and ran to meet James, who was descending the front
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steps. He swung her up in his arms and held her high over his head while she
squealed in delight.
By the time Laura reached them, Mandy was babbling. "And she lived in a nice
house, only not as big and pretty as Indigo Place. She has hair that's kinda white
and kinda brown and her eyes are green like yours and mine, 'cept more
wrinkledy. She told me I could call her Grandma if I wanted to and gave me
cookies. They were out of a box, but she said the next time I come to see her, she'll
bake me some. And she has a picture of you on top of her TV, and you look real
funny in it. It was before you grew whiskers, I think. She was real nice, only I
think she's kinda sad because sometimes when she looked at me I thought she was
going to cry. And she said she knew how to sew, and that she'd make me and
Annmarie dresses alike. And…"
Mandy wound down when, with the keen perception of a child, she realized that
her daddy wasn't sharing her enthusiasm for her new friend. In fact, he was
wearing a face that was new to her. It reminded her of the bad men on TV.
"Gladys has cooked you a good lunch," he said, carrying her inside. "She'll get
cross if we let your chicken noodle soup get cold."
He deposited his daughter at the table in the kitchen, where three place settings
had been laid. Gladys's welcoming smile faded when she noted the strained
expression on Laura's face.
That James's temper was about to erupt became readily apparent. "Gladys, when
Mandy finishes her lunch," he said in clipped tones, "I suggest you settle her down
for a nap. She's had a busy morning."
"Aren't you going to eat?" Gladys asked with more courage than Laura could have
garnered at the moment.
"No. Laura, I'd like to see you upstairs."
Just so there was no argument about it, he closed his fingers around her wrist,
jerked her forward, and practically dragged her all the way to the master suite.
As soon as they entered the bedroom, he confronted her furiously. "I want to
know what the hell you thought you were doing, taking my daughter to see her."
"Don't yell at me."
"Answer me!" he shouted.
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"She's your mother, James."
"One of nature's cruelest jokes."
Laura shivered. "Your attitude toward her is deplorable. You should be ashamed
of yourself."
"I send her money every month." His mouth was curled into an ugly smirk.
"Right," Laura said angrily. "I saw the new house and the new furniture, the car.
Her clothes are certainly several grades above what she had to wear years ago.
She's well fed and seems in good health. But I also saw her loneliness and despair.
She was starved for someone to talk to. You should have seen her with Mandy. She
—"
"You had no right to take my daughter there without my permission, Laura."
She ignored him. "I can't describe how loving she was with your child. I could tell
she wanted to crush Mandy against her and hold her tight."
"I don't want to hear it." He sliced the air with his hands.
"And each time your name was mentioned, she hung on to every word. Lying on
the end table in her living room was the newspaper article about our marriage. It
topped a stack of many such articles about you. They had been folded and
refolded so many tines, they were falling apart."
Tears ran from her eye
s with the memory of that collection of newspaper
clippings. It had been a pitiful sight. Impatiently she dashed her tears away with
the backs of her fists, more angry than sad.
"How can you be so cruel, James? How can you so heartlessly shut your own
mother out of your life?"
"It's my business," he ground out.
"I don't know what she did to make you so unforgiving, but surely—"
"Stay out of it. It doesn't concern you. "
"It does! I'm your wife."
"Not quite." He slammed the door closed behind him. "But I'm gonna fix that
right now."
Chapter 8
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"What are you going to do?" Laura took cautious steps backward.
"I'm going to make you my wife. Make you a woman." James lunged forward and
gripped her upper arms.
"No!" She tried to wrest her arms free, but he was too strong.
"You wanna butt in where you don't belong?" He sneered. "Well, the place you
belong most is in my bed."
He shoved her down on the bed. She landed on her back and tried to roll away,
but he followed her down and trapped her beneath him. "Before you start
handling my life, Mrs. Paden, you need to learn how to handle me."
"You're crude." Her blue eyes sparked with fury as she virtually spat the words
out. "Let me go."
"Not a chance, baby."
"And stop calling me baby. I'm not one of your casual pickups."
"You're sure as hell not," he said, barking a short laugh. "Do you think I'd put up
with your snottiness if you were? The one place putting on airs doesn't count is in
bed. So far, Miss Laura, I've been remarkably unimpressed with you."
He claimed his rights to her mouth. Brutal lips ground against hers. He tunneled
his fingers through her hair all the way to her scalp. Like a vise, his hands closed
around her head and held it still for the plunder of his tongue.
Outraged, Laura squirmed beneath him and pounded his shoulders and back with
her fists. The blows were ineffectual, but he soon tired of them and manacled both
her wrists with one hand. Hauling her arms above her head, he stapled them to
the bed with his hard fingers. Buttons went flying when he yanked on the front of
her blouse. He tore open her brassiere with the same disregard. His free hand