by JoAnn Ross
“Different,” she agreed mildly, “but not necessarily better. Although I do miss nursing. Which is why I’ll be very grateful to your mother for anything she can do to facilitate my licensing.” She gestured toward the closed commode. “Sit down and I’ll take care of your cuts.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, Mitch did as instructed.
Briskly and efficiently she washed the scraped skin with soap, trying to ignore the scents of cigarette smoke, beer and perfume that clung to his hair and clothing.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, noticing the faint wrinkling of her nose.
“I wasn’t thinking anything. ”
“Sure you were. You think I’ve been brawling in some bar.”
“Were you?” Drunken behavior was nothing new to Sasha. Since many men in Russia suffered from alcoholism, she’d witnessed the dangers of such overindulgence when they showed up injured at the hospital.
“Not exactly.”
“I see,” she said mildly as she rinsed his right hand beneath the faucet.
Surprised she wasn’t going to push him for an explanation, Mitch felt the need to explain anyway. “Some of the guys wanted to take me out for a bachelor party. Kind of a male version of your bridal shower.”
“How nice for you.” She rinsed the left hand.
“Well, it should have been. But there was this drunk and he was bothering Miss April Luv, and—”
“You rushed in to rescue her.” Sasha reminded herself that it was only Mitch’s nature. It didn’t mean that he had any romantic feelings for the woman with the sensual name.
Besides, she wasn’t all that innocent herself, she admitted, thinking about how attractive she’d found the sexy pretend policeman. Even if he didn’t stir her blood the way Mitch could with a single glance, or a warm smile.
“Someone had to do it,” Mitch said grumpily. “Unfortunately, the bouncer was outside having a heart-to-heart conversation with a couple of bikers.”
She had no idea what a bouncer was, did not know why he would feel the need to leave his post to talk with bicycle riders, but she did understand exactly how Mitch had received his injuries.
“She was fortunate you were there.”
“The lucky thing was that one of the responding cops was Jake’s cousin,” he muttered, “or I’d be spending the night in jail.”
“Don’t be silly. They do not put heroes in jail.”
He frowned as he remembered the stripper’s enthusiastic kisses and her breathy declarations that he’d always be her knight in shining armor. “Believe me, Sasha, there’s nothing the least bit heroic about bar fights.”
“I believe Miss April Luv would see things differently.” Sasha swabbed on the hydrogen peroxide with the sterile gauze.
“Does that hurt?” she asked when Mitch flinched.
“Not at all,” he lied.
Knowing he was not telling the truth, she lifted his hand and blew softly on the stinging wounds.
Her breath was as soft as thistledown, as warm as summer sunshine. And it stirred emotions that Mitch knew were better left alone. But he’d never been one to stick to the safe or prudent path in life.
“I lied,” he admitted.
“I know. But that’s all right, Mitch.” She blew on the other hand. “Many men have difficulty admitting to pain.”
“I’m not talking about that. Well, maybe I did fudge the truth a little about how my hands felt, but I was referring to what I said earlier. About only seeing you as beleaguered and all that.”
“Oh. You don’t see me this way?”
“Actually, I do. I mean, I guess I did. But there was more I didn’t say.”
“Oh.” She looked down at him. She saw the heat in his eyes, and with a shocked intake of breath tried to release his hand, but he stopped her by deftly lacing their fingers together.
“Don’t you want to know what else I was thinking?” He lifted their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against the inside of her wrist, causing her pulse to leap.
“Mitch...” Sasha was suddenly honestly afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid of herself. And terrified of having her heart broken.
Reminding herself of her new resolution to take charge of her life, she tried to tug her hand free. “I don’t think this is a very good idea.”
“What’s wrong, Sasha?” His eyes were on hers as his wicked lips forged a fiery trail of sparks up her arm. “How can a husband telling his wife that he thinks she’s about the sexiest, most desirable woman he’s ever seen be a bad idea?”
Sexy? Desirable? Her heart soared at the long-awaited words.
“We’re not really husband and wife.”
“That’s funny.” When his tongue touched the crook of her elbow, desire pooled hotly between her legs. “I have a paper tucked away in my underwear drawer that says we are.” He spread his legs and pulled her closer.
Heaven help her, she did not resist. Instead, Sasha found herself staring down at the buttons on his blood-stained shirt, struck with a sudden, almost overwhelming impulse to rip them all away.
“Our marriage is in name only,” she protested. “That was what you proposed.”
“True enough.” Her skin was as soft as silk. Mitch wanted to touch her all over. Taste her all over. “But there’s really nothing to prevent us from changing the terms of the deal, is there?”
Never had Sasha been so tempted. Never had she wanted a man so badly. And never had she loved anyone so deeply. Which was why, she warned herself, she must tread very carefully where Mitch Cudahy was concerned.
“There is one reason.”
Her voice was so soft Mitch could barely hear her. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he murmured, pulling her closer still so he could nuzzle his head against her abdomen.
It was that throwaway word that he tossed so casually to every woman he met that assured Sasha she was right to be cautious.
“You do not know me.” It was the hardest decision she’d ever made. Sasha could only pray it was the right one. “And I do not know you.”
“Hell, sweetheart,” he argued, unwittingly driving another nail into the ragged wound he was making in her heart, “we know more about each other than a lot of people who tumble into bed together.”
Unfortunately, Sasha realized that he was speaking from experience. “I realize many of the women you know take lovemaking lightly. But I am not most women, Mitch.”
That firmness was back. In her voice and, as he looked up at her, in her steady brown gaze. Mitch sighed and reminded himself that bedding Sasha probably would have been a mistake, anyway. Every instinct he possessed told him this situation could get emotionally sticky.
“You’re right.” He released her, but the warmth of his touch, his gaze, continued to linger in her breast. “I’m sorry. I had no right to try to take advantage of you that way. No right to try to talk you into doing something you don’t want to do.”
Sasha experienced a moment of panic. This was not what she wanted! She’d only intended to stall long enough for them to get to know one another better. To give Mitch time to fall in love with her. So that when they ultimately did make love, he’d understand that they belonged together.
The one thing she didn’t want to do was to encourage him to give up on her entirely!
She took a deep breath and, having no experience in how to maneuver in such tight emotional quarters, decided to follow her instincts and hope they’d lead her in the right direction.
“But I do want to make love to you, Mitch.” There, she’d said it. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“I don’t understand. We’re legally married. The mutual attraction—the chemistry—has been obvious from the beginning, Sasha. I want you and you want me. What’s so complicated about that?”
Because I love you. And you don’t love me. “I told you,” she said, “I do not take sex lightly.”
He nodded his approval. “That’s wis
e. Especially in this day and age.”
“Yes.” She twisted her fingers together and tried again. “It’s just that all this has happened so fast, Mitch. You and I, and our marriage. And winning all that money, and then the meeting with that horrid Mr. Donald O. Potter, and the purse stealer, and your mother...”
“All right.” His lips quirked with a small smile and humor brightened his eyes as he held up his wounded hand. “I get the point, sweetheart. I don’t need a blow-by-blow replay.”
“Fine.” Reminding herself once again that she was not the pitiful little wretch he thought he’d married, she tilted her chin and forced her runaway pulse to something resembling normalcy.
“We’ll take our time,” Mitch agreed. “And get to know one another.” Personally, he’d always felt like bed was a dandy place to get to know a woman. But never having had to push, let alone coax a female between his sheets, he had no intention of beginning with Sasha.
“Thank you,” she said. “And while we’re being honest, may I request a favor?”
“Sure.”
This time she managed to ignore the warmth of his smile. “I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me sweetheart.”
That finally said, she swept from the room with a regal air that reminded Mitch of royalty. For a moment he was irked at being dismissed so coolly, then he threw back his head and laughed.
“So, WHAT DID YOU expect?” Jake asked the next day. He was spotting for Mitch, who was working off his frustration by lifting weights in the workout room at the station. “That just because you married the girl, she’d show her undying gratitude by leaping naked into your bed?”
“I wasn’t looking for gratitude.” Mitch grunted as he hefted the bar over his head. “I was looking for sex.”
“Makes sense to me. I told you most men would love a chance to roll around in the hay with our little Sasha Mikhailova.”
“She’s Sasha Cudahy. At least for the time being. And I told you I don’t want to hear about most men!” Mitch dropped the bar back down with a curse.
“Whooee.” Jake grinned and held his hands up in a gesture of defeat. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m just homy.” Mitch pushed the bar up again, irritation providing an extra burst of power. “You would be, too, if you’d gone a week without getting laid.”
“Yeah. Like that never happens to the rest of us,” Jake said dryly. “Wait until you’ve got a wife in the eighth month of pregnancy, pal. Our water bill went through the roof from all the cold showers I was taking.”
“Since I’m leaving the responsibility of providing Mom with grandkids to you and Katie, I have no intention of ever experiencing that aspect of marriage,” Mitch insisted. “And if I’d wanted a life of celibacy I would have joined an order of trappist monks instead of the fire department.”
Jake added more weight to both ends of the bar. “Katie was telling me something about some home visit by Glory’s squinty-eyed weasel. So, when is it scheduled?”
“I don’t know. Apparently they surprise you. Like fire drills.” The first one, when Potter had discovered them kissing in the kitchen, had been a bonus. Mitch didn’t expect subsequent visits to go as smoothly.
“Oh.” Jake rubbed his chin. “So you and your bride have to continue to live as normal newlyweds as much as possible, just in case the immigration police stop by in the middle of the night?”
“That’s pretty much it,” Mitch muttered, shoving the heavier bar up with a force born of frustration.
“Tough break.” Jake steadied the barbell as Mitch’s inner turmoil set it shaking. “Well, at least once the visit is over with, and Sasha has her green card, you can get on with your separate lives.”
“Yeah. And let me tell you, I can’t wait.”
Mitch sat up, wiped his hand against his sweat-stained shirt and wondered when he’d become such a damn liar.
GLORY WAS WAITING with a question when Sasha arrived the next day at work. “How come you didn’t tell me about Mitch’s mother’s offer to get you enrolled in a licensing school?” she demanded with a frown.
Sasha hadn’t known how to break the news that she’d be leaving to her friend. “I was going to tell you about that.”
“That sounds like a terrific deal,” Glory said after Sasha had explained. “And I know how much you’ve missed working in the operating room. So what’s the problem?”
“For one thing, I don’t want to leave you without a waitress. Not after you were so nice to hire me.”
At that Glory broke out laughing. “Honey, I think it’s time for me to come clean with you. The reason my sister’s girl Amber stopped by last week was to ask for a job. I told you she’s putting herself through Phoenix College.”
Sasha nodded.
“The problem is, I had to turn her down because I knew how badly you needed work. But now that you’re married and your mother-in-law is going to get you into school—”
“But what if Mitch doesn’t want to stay married?” Sasha asked. “Even if I didn’t want to keep working, which I do, once we get our annulment, it will be necessary to support myself.”
“By then you’ll have your nursing license,” Glory observed. “But I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts that Mitch won’t want that annulment.”
Sasha hoped that would be true.
THE NEXT WEEK went by smoothly enough. Which Mitch decided was probably due to Sasha’s being at school on the days he was home, and his being at the station for three of those days and nights.
The first morning they actually shared together was Friday, a week after Sasha’s bridal shower and Mitch’s stripper-club brawl.
They were just finishing breakfast when Margaret dropped by.
“Good morning, dears,” she said, studiously ignoring the black eye that was still evident on Mitch’s face. After declining Sasha’s offer of coffee, she said, “I was planning my day off when I realized that Sasha probably doesn’t have a proper dress for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night?” Sasha turned toward him. “Mitch?”
Hell. With all he’d had on his mind lately, he’d forgotten all about the upcoming governor’s awards banquet.
“I don’t know if I’m going to go to that dinner, Mom,” he hedged.
“Well, of course you are.” Margaret waved his words away. “The governor,” she told Sasha with maternal pride, “is going to give Mitchel a medal. And name him Arizona hero of the year.”
“Really?” Sasha’s face was glowing with something that horrifyingly appeared to be wifely pride as she turned toward him. “This is true, Mitch?”
“It’s no big thing,” he mumbled as he began tearing apart a paper napkin.
“On the contrary,” Margaret corrected, “it is a very big deal. Your father won the same award, Mitch. You owe it to his memory to show up. Besides,” she said, her friendly gaze returning to Sasha, “you’ll be sitting up on the dais with the governor. What better opportunity to show off your new bride?”
As he mumbled something that sounded like agreement, Mitch could feel the quicksand closing in over his head.
12
“I CAN’T AFFORD to do much shopping,” Sasha said as she drove to the mall with Margaret and Katie. “I should save my money to use to find my father.”
“Of course you should,” Katie said. “But you’re a married woman now.”
“And I know my son would want to spend whatever is necessary for you to look your best Saturday night,” Margaret added as extra inducement.
Remembering how Mitch had sighed as he had handed over his credit card in Laughlin, Sasha wasn’t as certain that he would approve of this shopping trip.
Ten minutes later, she was standing in front of a three-way mirror, staring in stunned disbelief at her reflection.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Katie, who’d found the glittery lame cocktail dress in the chichi boutique, crowed. “As seduction artillery goes, that dress is decidedly lethal
.”
“It is definitely short,” Sasha murmured. She’d lived with her legs for twenty-four years without realizing how long they were! The knife-pleated, baby-doll style dress, held up with thin glittery straps, ended a great deal closer to her waist than her knees. “And bright.”
“Red is perfect for a fireman’s wife,” Katie argued. “And the color is dynamite with your dark hair.”
The contrast was appealing, Sasha admitted secretly. Still, she didn’t think she’d have the nerve to leave the house in such a skimpy, sexy dress.
She turned to Margaret, hoping the older woman would suggest something more prudent. “What do you think?”
Mitch’s mother’s judicial gaze swept over the brief cocktail dress. “I think my son’s a goner.” She held out a pair of dangling crystal earrings. “Try these. They’ll be perfect.”
Outvoted and more than a little overwhelmed, Sasha did not resist as the pair dragged her from store to store, seemingly determined to push the limit on Mitch’s credit card.
By the end of the day, when she returned to the apartment laden down with packages, Sasha decided she knew exactly how Cinderella must have felt when her fairy godmother had shown up with that sparkling new ball gown and pumpkin coach.
The transformation the two women had wrought had been nothing short of miraculous. Anticipation bubbled like sparkling champagne in her veins as Sasha contemplated seducing her husband.
MrrcH WAS LATE and not in the best of moods when he arrived home Saturday night from the station.
Although he’d left with time to spare to stop at the rental shop and pick up his tux, a three-car accident, while not serious, had tied up traffic, leaving him with a scant fifteen minutes to shower and change before leaving for the awards banquet.
“Sasha?” he called as he entered the apartment. “I’m sorry I’m late, but this damn hay truck got caught under a freeway underpass, then a guy in a pickup swerved to miss hitting the bales of hay that fell off, and—”