by Diana Palmer
“To me, too,” he whispered, and bent again. “God, Sandy, don’t make me wait too long.” His arms became demanding. “I want you with me all the time. We’ll have the foreman’s house, and you can plant all the flowers you like, and cook for…me…”
He lifted his head and grimaced. “Oh, my God, we’ll starve,” he said, so plaintively that she burst out laughing.
She nuzzled her smiling face into his throat. “Don’t you worry, my darling, I’ve already enrolled in a cooking course at one of the schools in Victoria. I’m not cordon-bleu, but I can produce an unburned steak and scalloped potatoes anytime you like.”
“Can you, really?” He rested his weight on his elbows and looked down into her eyes lazily. “I can make a cake.”
“You can?”
“A pound cake, nothing fancy.” He traced her eyebrows. “I guess we won’t starve, after all. Although,” he added wickedly, “I don’t think we’ll spend much time worrying about food the first week we’re married.”
She touched his mouth. “Are we going to wait until then?” she asked without meeting his eyes.
He stiffened. “Of course we are!” he said shortly. “Good Lord, woman, you aren’t trying to seduce me, are you?”
Her eyebrows arched. “Who, me?”
“Good thing,” he murmured, “because I’m not that sort of man. I plan to wear a white suit at our wedding…”
She hit him. “I can just see that!”
“I am,” he repeated.
“Because you’re a virgin,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.
He didn’t smile.
Her eyes widened. “You’re thirty-six!”
He still didn’t smile.
Her heart jumped into her throat. “You have got to be kidding!”
“You came along at a traumatic time in my life,” he recalled lazily, fitting her small hand to his big one. He grinned at her. “I fell head over heels in love with you the day we met, and I never wanted anyone else.” He shrugged. “I guess we start even, don’t we, honey?”
She drew him down to her and kissed him with all her heart. Tears burned her eyes. “I can’t believe it.”
“You will,” he said with a wistful sigh. “I expect we’ll fumble a bit at first. But it comes naturally for birds and things, so I guess it will for us, too.”
She laughed through her tears. “Of course it will! Oh, Jobe…!”
The sound of footsteps finally broke them apart. Jobe looked up at a big, bearlike man in a bibbed cap carrying a fishing rod.
“I never even caught a fish,” the big man said gruffly, “and your spinning rods are on a tour of the lake. Some people have all the damned luck.”
He stomped off. Jobe sat up with a dazed Sandy, and they watched the progress of their rods across the lake.
“I guess we might as well go home, unless you want to swim out after them,” Jobe offered.
She shook her head. “Not in that water,” she said dryly.
“I see what you mean.” He retrieved their strings of fish and they wandered back to the truck, pausing just long enough to kiss each other on the way.
The wedding was arranged by a gleeful Coreen. As much as she hated to, Sandy had to leave Jobe long enough to get some work done in Victoria.
Her boss, Mr. Cranson, gave them a crystal bowl for a wedding gift, and her co-workers went in together to buy a set of dishes and some flatware. Coreen and Ted gave them towels and sheets and small appliances. They’d have enough to start housekeeping, at least, and the bathroom in the foreman’s house was being remodeled by Ted as another small gift.
Missy hadn’t said a word about the wedding. But Sandy was uneasy, just the same, because she knew how possessive and vengeful the woman was. It wasn’t like Missy to waltz off without a word when she’d lost a man she had her heart set on.
Sure enough, the last day Sandy was to spend in the apartment in Victoria, there was a knock on the door.
Expecting Jobe, she was surprised to find a tearful Missy on her doorstep. The tears were real, too.
“Come in,” Sandy invited.
“Thanks.” Missy sniffed, holding a handkerchief to her eyes. “I’m so sorry to come here and bother you at a time like this,” she confessed, blowing her nose noisily, “but there are things you simply have to know before you marry him.”
“Sit down.”
Missy perched herself on the sofa. “I’m really sorry.”
“You said that,” Sandy reminded her.
Missy cleared her throat. She contrived to look tragic. “Well, it’s like this,” she began. She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
Sandy’s eyebrows rose. She smiled. “Congratulations.”
Missy looked taken aback. “You don’t understand. It’s Jobe’s.”
Sandy searched the other woman’s face. For one instant—of which she was very ashamed—she let herself imagine that it could be true. Then she measured Missy’s word against Jobe’s and all her doubts went away at once.
“Do tell me all about it. Do you want some iced tea?” Sandy offered, and went to get it.
“You’re taking this very well,” Missy said, shocked.
“I suppose I am. Come on. Tell me all about it.”
“He seduced me,” Missy said, sobbing.
“You poor thing,” Sandy commiserated. “The louse!”
Missy’s eyes widened. “You believe me?” “Of course I do,” Sandy lied. “I’m so sorry for you. The pig. How could he do such a thing to such a sweet girl?”
Missy sipped her iced tea and peered at Sandy, trying not to grin. This was going better than she’d ever dreamed it would.
“He said he loved me,” Missy continued. “He took me out to eat and then we parked on this lonely, deserted road. He started kissing me and one thing led to another, and…it just happened.”
“And naturally, you aren’t on the Pill?”
Missy glanced at her. “How…how did you know?”
“Well, if you’re pregnant…”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Well, I’m about six weeks along,” she added. “At least, I think I am. I haven’t been to the doctor. But I’m sure it couldn’t be anything else. And you know, Jobe will surely marry me if there’s a baby on the way, what with Jacobsville being such a small town, and my reputation, and his reputation.”
“Of course,” Sandy agreed readily.
Missy put down her tea. “You do understand that he can’t marry both of us?”
Sandy smiled. “Certainly, I do.”
“Well…then what are you going to do?”
“I’m going right down to Jacobsville with you to tell him what I think of him,” Sandy said flatly. She got to her feet. “Let’s go.”
Missy’s indrawn breath was audible.
“Come on!”
She got up. “Right now?” she exclaimed.
“Right now. You’ve got your car, haven’t you?”
“Y…yes.”
“You can follow me. I’ll just get my purse…”
They went out the door together. Sandy was enjoying herself. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Jobe’s face. It would be something to tell their grandchildren. It would also show Missy exactly where she stood.
“Two birds with one stone,” Sandy said to herself as she led the way down the highway to Jacobsville.
Missy parked near the front door, but she was slow to get out of her car. Jobe’s black pickup was parked nearby. He was probably in the office, cursing the computer, Sandy mused.
She led the way into the house, with Missy dragging behind, and went right into the office.
Jobe was sitting on the edge of the desk, talking on the phone. He looked up and saw the two women, and ended his conversation.
“This is a surprise,” he said.
Sandy smiled. “I’ll bet it is. Uh, Missy has something to say. Go ahead, dear,” she coaxed the other woman, waving a hand in her direction. She sat down in the nearest chair and prepared to be amused
.
Missy cleared her throat. She was flushed as she looked from Sandy to Jobe.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.
Jobe looked hunted. His eyes went immediately to Sandy, and he scowled, as if he was daring her to believe what any normal person would at the moment.
She didn’t crack a smile. She did arch an eyebrow, and the twinkle in her eyes grew more noticeable.
“I said, I’m pregnant!” Missy returned. She folded her arms over her chest and smiled smugly at Jobe. “What are you going to do about it? I’ve already told her,” she added, nodding toward Sandy.
“What did she say?” Jobe asked curiously.
“She understood that you’re going to have to marry me.”
Jobe’s lip curled up. “We’ll call the newspapers and the television people, too,” he mused. “You’re going to make history if I’m the father of your child.”
She looked uneasy. “I don’t understand.”
He picked up the telephone. “Of course, I’m certain that the real father of this child will be eager to learn about it. I’ll set you up with an appointment this very afternoon at Coltrain’s clinic. They can take a blood sample to check if you are pregnant and then when the baby is born they can do a DNA test. That will rule me out immediately as the father.”
Missy’s face went red. “They…they can’t do that sort of thing!”
“Sure they can,” he said. “Coltrain has a lab in Houston do his important work. You’d be amazed at what a test will reveal these days. And if you’re pregnant, you should be seen at once.” He held on to the receiver. “Betty? This is Jobe Dodd. I want you to set up an appointment today for…”
“No!” Missy cried.
She rushed forward and hung up the receiver at once, panting for breath. “No, I…uh, I don’t want to do that!”
“Why not?” Sandy asked. “I’d think a pregnancy test would be the first thing on your mind right now.”
Missy looked hunted. She stared at Jobe, who had his arms folded across his chest. He wasn’t smiling.
He glanced at Sandy. “While we’re on the subject,” he began, “I’d like to know right now if you believe her,” he added, nodding toward a frozen Missy.
Sandy smiled softly, her eyes full of love and trust. “Don’t be silly,” she said gently.
“You said you believed me!” Missy accused.
Sandy got up. “I wanted to see how far you’d go,” she replied simply. “Now stop this play-acting and tell the truth, Missy. You don’t want to do something like this to Jobe. You’re not a bad enough person to try to ruin his life deliberately.”
Missy’s lower lip stuck out. “I love him!”
“No, you don’t,” Sandy said. “If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to trap him into marriage. You want people to be happy if you love them. We all know that Jobe wouldn’t be happy with you unless he really loved you. And he doesn’t.”
Missy’s eyes clouded. She looked mutinous. “I could love him enough for both of us!”
Jobe shook his head. “That isn’t possible. I love Sandy. I always have. You’re a sweet kid, honey, but it wasn’t love.”
Missy’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I knew that all along. I didn’t want to admit it.” She flushed even more. “I guess I made a real fool of myself.”
“Not to me,” Sandy said. “Not to Jobe, either. Iimagine he’s flattered, in a way. But it’s time to stop pretending.”
“Okay,” Missy admitted, “I’m not pregnant. He only kissed me once, like you’d kiss a kid who was hurt. I built a lot of dreams on it.” She drew in a long sigh. “I guess there’s somebody out there for me. Maybe I’ll find him one day.” “Of course you will,” Sandy said gently. “But in the meantime, I think it might be better if you found a different job. One where there’s an eligible man or two.”
“Not here,” Missy mused.
“Not here,” Sandy agreed. She looked at Jobe quietly. “This one belongs to me,” she said, and watched his high cheekbones go ruddy.
Missy saw it, too. She managed a smile on her way out. “Well, I hope I get invited to the wedding, at least,” she said. “I’m not a bad loser.”
“No, you’re not,” Jobe agreed. He smiled at her. “Stay out of trouble, sprout.”
“I’ll do my best. I’m really sorry,” she added sheepishly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe I wasn’t really grown up until now.” She went out the door quickly, closing it behind her.
Jobe got up from the desk with a sigh and walked to Sandy, pulling her into his arms. “You didn’t believe a word of it, hmm?”
She shook her head. “I know you too well. You’ve never lied to me. Not even when it would have been kinder. It was pretty simple to tell where the truth was. Besides,” she added, pulling his head down, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he whispered, and kissed her back hungrily.
Chapter 6
Two weeks later, they were married. They didn’t plan on a honeymoon, but Ted sent them off to Nassau on an airplane and neither of them had the heart to argue with him.
Nassau was the most unexpected, glorious sight of Sandy’s life. Despite the wealth that she and Ted enjoyed, it was the one place she’d never been. The day they arrived, she and Jobe didn’t even wait to change clothes. They tipped the bellboy who carried their luggage to their sixth-floor room at the huge, gaudy hotel on Cable Beach and then took a cab into downtown Nassau, where they walked down the narrow streets past the gaily colored straw market and friendly people, idly gazing at passenger ships at Prince George Wharf and pausing to look in store windows.
The air smelled of the ocean and adventure. They saw the statue of the island’s first royal governor, Woodes Rogers, in front of one of the older hotels in town, and then strolled along Bay Street, holding hands and dreaming.
When they got back to the hotel, they started to change for dinner when Jobe turned and just stared at Sandy as she stood there in only her lace teddy, with her dark hair down around her shoulders.
He had his shirt off. His broad chest, hair-covered and muscular and deeply tanned, drew her like a magnet. With her breath in her throat, she went to him, her heart racing.
She looked up at him, noting his own tension, the ragged sound of his breathing. “Now,” she whispered huskily.
He reached for her, gently, and brought her to him. “Now,” he whispered back, and bent to her mouth.
Several feverish minutes later, they were on the bed, trembling against each other with the sound of the ocean loud even outside the closed window as they fought layers of clothing to get to the skin underneath.
“Oh, Lord…I’ve torn it,” he groaned as he finally got the teddy out of the way and his mouth burned against her small, taut breasts.
“Who cares?” she panted, clutching his head to her. “Oh, Jobe, oh, dear God!”
She arched as the suckling motion of his mouth sent thrills of pleasure into the most secret places of her body.
Her soft cries made him wild to have her. He managed to get out of the last of his clothing and his mouth bit into hers as he eased quickly between her long, trembling legs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered urgently. “I’m sorry, it’s going to be…rough.”
“I don’t care!”
She adjusted her body to his in a violent fever of need, so hungry for him that nothing else mattered. She barely felt the flash of pain as he went into her, the pleasure that followed drowning her in such exquisite sensations that she stretched like a wanton under his powerful body and sighed loudly.
“Yes,” he groaned, searching for her mouth as his hips moved down and he shivered. “Did you even dream…that it would feel like this?” he asked huskily.
“Never!” She met his mouth and lifted to him, matching his rhythm, trembling with each new contact. “This is wicked!” she whispered when he paused and looked down the length of their joined bodies, coaxing her to look as well.
“We’re married,” he whispered unsteadily. “Two of the oldest virgins in the continental United States… Good God!”
Her sudden urgent movement caught him off guard and he cried out as she moved again, twisting up to him.
He ground his mouth into hers with a sharp groan and suddenly there was no time to savor it, to lengthen it. There was tension and urgent need. He drove into her, drowning in her sweetness, her husky little cries of ecstasy. When he felt her arch and cry out, he was already in the throes of his own fulfillment. He seemed to black out as the most harshly sweet pleasure he’d ever experienced pulled his powerful body so tight that he thought he might actually faint…
Minutes later, drenched in perspiration and shaking in the aftermath of their frenzied lovemaking, Sandy lifted her head to look at her new husband and she couldn’t resist a huge, wicked grin.
“I guess it was worth waiting for, huh?” she teased.
He rolled over, his face aglow with love and happiness. He laughed like a boy. “Oh, yes, my darling. Well worth it,” he replied. He bent to her mouth and rolled over in the same instant. “I love you insanely. And just in case you didn’t get the message the first time…!”
He wasn’t the only one insanely in love and aching to prove it. Sandy’s last conscious thought was that marriage to Jobe was going to be one long, sweet adventure. And this was only the beginning!
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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