Nine Months

by Beverly Barton

  “We’ll work out all the details to your satisfaction later,” he said.

  Paige sighed with relief, then threw her arms around Jared’s neck and hugged him enthusiastically. “Thank you.”

  Releasing her fierce hold around his neck, she grabbed his hand and urged him to follow her farther into the downstairs interior. “If I start work as soon as possible, I might get everything in shape before the baby’s born,” she said. “Then I could have a spring grand opening. Maybe late April or early May.”

  “Honey, I can get workers in here and whip this place into shape in no time flat.”

  “No, Jared.” She drew his hand to her face, rubbed her cheek against it, then kissed his wrist. “I want to do the rest. Hire workers. Make the decisions. Even put the finishing touches on everything myself.”

  “All right. Whatever you want.” He was willing to pacify her—up to a point. If taking charge of the project, even doing some of the hands-on work herself, made her happy, he would gladly let her have her way. “Will you let me help you put the finishing touches on everything?”

  She squeezed his hand. “Did I hear you correctly? Is L. J. Montgomery actually offering to do manual labor?”

  Jared grinned. “For you, honey, I’d do just about anything.” He intended to keep her happy, to give her whatever she wanted, so that she would give him what he wanted most. For her to marry him.

  “I will pay you back. Once The Dollhouse starts making a profit.”

  He chuckled. “Honey, if you were my wife, there would be no need for you to pay me back, would there? And no need to worry about making a profit. A lot of my associates’ wives have hobbies. Some even run little businesses like this that make excellent tax write-offs.”

  At first, she couldn’t believe that she’d heard him correctly, then she tried to convince herself that he hadn’t meant what he’d said. But he had meant it. Jared had given her this building as a toy, a little hobby that would keep her entertained while he took care of his business—important business.

  She hadn’t even agreed to marry him, and already he was casting her in the mold of other millionaire businessmen’s wives.

  * * *

  On the ride home, Paige decided that she would accept Jared’s generous gift, regardless of his motives for buying the building for her. She’d show him that The Dollhouse would be more than a hobby for her and a tax write-off for him. She’d make a success of the business, no matter what she had to do.

  If there was any hope for Jared and her to have a future together as husband and wife, he would have to not only love her, but love her enough to allow her to be herself. And that meant she would make her own decisions.

  Was she wishing for the impossible? Could she really expect Jared to alter his way of life to accommodate her, when she had no intention of changing herself to suit him?

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Jared said as they drove up the mountain. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about how I want to organize the space at The Dollhouse,” she said. “I want one room upstairs just for American-made dolls. Everything from the ones produced in the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth century, like Joel Ellis dolls, all the way up to today’s Barbie dolls.”

  “From what I’ve seen of your doll collection at your parents’ home, I’d say you have enough stock to open a business tomorrow.”

  “Well, I might put some of my personal collection on display and even sell a few, but I plan to keep most of them to pass along to Angela one day.”

  “What if my daughter doesn’t like dolls?” Jared asked jokingly.

  “Not a chance!” Paige playfully socked Jared’s arm.

  He listened to her plans until he parked the Jeep in the circular gravel drive at the cabin.

  “I hope I can find enough musical dolls and automata to create a separate section for them.” Paige made no protest when Jared opened the door, removed her seat belt and buttoned her coat. “All I have in my collection are a few medium-priced ‘pull toys’ and a couple of marottes.”

  Jared helped her out of the Jeep. “What the hell is a marotte?” Taking her arm, he hurried her up the stairs and onto the deck as fast as his limping gait allowed.

  “A marotte is a stick doll, usually with a bisque head,” she told him as he unlocked the front door and quickly ushered her inside and out of the cold night air. “A marotte has a head and a plump upper body, but it’s not a whole doll.”

  When they removed their coats, Jared hung them in the closet. “Go warm yourself by the fire and I’ll fix you some hot tea and me some coffee,” he told her.

  “All right. Thanks.” She walked into the living room while he headed toward the kitchen. “I think I’ll phone the folks and check on Daddy,” she called out to Jared.

  He knew she couldn’t wait to tell her parents about The Dollhouse, so he took his time preparing their drinks. When he returned to the living room, he found her still on the phone with her mother.

  “I love you, too, Mama,” Paige said, then hung up the telephone and turned to Jared, her mouth curving into a warm, welcoming smile.

  How easy it was for Paige and her mother to openly express their emotions, to say “I love you” at the end of their conversation. Jared couldn’t imagine telling Joyce Montgomery that he loved her. She was his mother, but there were times when he wasn’t even sure he liked her. What would it have been like, he wondered, to have grown up as a part of the Summers family?

  He was glad that his daughter would belong to Paige’s warm, loving family and grow up as Walt and Dora’s adored grandchild. He hadn’t even told his mother about the baby, but when he did, she’d be outraged at first. And if she finally accepted the fact, she’d probably send a gift. Something expensive and totally useless.

  Jared set the tray holding Paige’s cup of tea and his coffee mug on the end table to her left, and walked across the room to the rolltop desk.

  “How’s your father?” Jared asked.

  “He was asleep, but Mama said he’s doing just fine. She promised to wait and let me tell him all about The Dollhouse in the morning.”

  Jared opened the long, narrow top drawer of the desk, reached inside and pulled out two large envelopes. “I want to go ahead and give you the deed to the building downtown and…” He hesitated, uncertain exactly how to go about explaining the contents of the second envelope. He didn’t want to do anything to make Paige unhappy. And two extravagant gifts in one day might be one gift too many.

  “Oh, is that what you’ve got there?” she asked. “You’ll need to get your lawyer…what’s his name? Mr. McCafferty?…to prepare an agreement for my loan payments on The Dollhouse.”

  “I thought… Never mind, we’ll iron out the details later,” he said, knowing it was useless to argue with her at this point. Jared’s brow wrinkled.

  “Is there something wrong?” Paige lifted her teacup and sipped the warm, sweet liquid.

  “I have something I want to show you. Upstairs.” Maybe it would be easier to present her with the second gift once she saw the surprise on the second floor.

  “Not another gift?” She laughed, but when he didn’t, she placed her tea back on the tray, then stood and walked toward him. “You have to stop buying things,” she told him. “I have everything I need, and so does Angela.”

  “Just come with me. Please.” Jared found that buying expensive gifts for a woman who didn’t expect them was a real pleasure.

  She let him lead the way to the second floor, but balked when he stopped in front of the closed door to the bedroom next to his. “My gift is in there?”

  “Sort of.” He placed the two envelopes under his arm, then reached out and grasped the brass door handle.

  “What do you mean, sort of?”

  Without reply, he turned the handle, opened the door and flipped on the light switch. Paige’s eyes widened and her mouth opened to a circle as she sucked in an astonished breath.

  She could
n’t believe her eyes. The bedroom that only yesterday morning had boasted a set of sturdy pine twin beds, matching dresser and chest, beige walls, tan carpet and plaid curtains was now a completely furnished pastel nursery.

  “When—when did you have this done?” Floating into the room, her mouth still agape, Paige stared at the pink, blue and yellow hearts wallpaper border. A pale shade of pink paint coated the walls of the large nursery.

  “Do you like it?” He stepped into the room but stood just inside the doorway.

  “When? How? Yesterday when we left for Denver this was a guest room.”

  “I called Marcy Dailey from the airport and told her what I wanted and that the job had to be finished by this evening.”

  “Marcy Dailey!”

  Jared crossed the room as quickly as he could, putting more weight on his injured ankle than he should have. But he ignored the pain shooting up his leg. “Now, honey, don’t get ticked off because I had Marcy pull things together for us. She’s the best decorator in town.”

  He smiled at Paige. She frowned at him.

  “I had only one date with Marcy,” Jared said. “I haven’t seen her again.”

  She didn’t care about the date he’d had with Marcy Dailey. Didn’t he understand that the reason she was upset had nothing to do with his having dated Marcy and everything to do with the fact that he had hired a professional to decorate the baby’s nursery?

  Misunderstanding the cause of Paige’s wrinkled brow and clenched teeth, Jared said, “I kissed her good-night and left her at her door. I swear.” He held up his hand in an oath-sign. “And it was a closemouthed kiss.”

  Pacing around the room, Paige ran her fingertips over every piece of furniture, and her gaze inspected every detail of the perfect nursery. She paused beside the white Jenny Lind crib, the one Jared had picked out and bought on their Denver shopping trip.

  “The room is beautiful,” she said. “All the things that were in boxes at my apartment and all the furniture and stuff you bought in Denver are right here.”

  “Then you approve?”

  What was she supposed to say? How could she tell him that despite the perfection of the nursery, she was disappointed that he’d allowed another woman to create the room for their daughter. She turned to face Jared. “Why did you do this? Why did you fix a nursery here at your house?”

  Jared jerked the two envelopes out from under his arm and held them out to Paige. “Not my house, honey. Not anymore. This is your house now. Yours and Angela’s.”

  “What!” She stared at the envelopes but didn’t touch them.

  “I deeded this house over to you. And I’m putting one of the new condos downtown in your name, too.” He looked at Paige, his eyes pleading with her to accept this second extravagant gift.

  So, she thought, Jared had her life all mapped out, the major details planned. What was he trying to do—buy her? He had purchased a building for her doll shop and would financially back her new business. A hobby for the little wife. Now he was putting some of his property in her name. Was he trying to bribe her with expensive gifts? Was using his money the only way he knew how to show affection?

  He was giving her a golden life on a silver platter, and she knew she should be grateful. There were only two possible problems with this wonderful life. Only two questions to which she needed an answer before she committed herself to him for a lifetime. Did he or did he not love her? And would he or would he not accept the fact that she had no intention of turning herself into his idea of a suitable wife?

  Jared was, without a doubt, the most exasperating, overbearing, stubborn man in the world. And one of the most generous and caring, too, she reminded herself. Despite all his high-handed tactics, she couldn’t help loving him. “Lawrence Jared Montgomery, what am I going to do with you?”

  “Well, honey, if you really want an answer to your question, I have a suggestion.”

  “You do?”

  His killer smile turned her knees to jelly. She bit down on her bottom lip. He dropped the two envelopes to the floor, reached out and grabbed her around the waist. After nuzzling her neck, he kissed her earlobe, then whispered his suggestion, using rather explicit language.

  Despite her misgivings, despite the warning signals going off in her brain, Paige couldn’t resist Jared. Even if she could never marry him, she loved him desperately. And she wanted him.

  “You’re bad,” she told him. “Really, really bad. You know that, don’t you?” Paige patted his bottom.

  Grabbing her hand, he stilled her movements, then slid her hand around to the front of his slacks. “But I can be good. Really, really good. Come with me and I’ll show you just how good.”

  Chapter Eleven

  In the days following her father’s surgery, Paige and Jared settled into a routine. They worked together at the office every day as employer and employee. In the evenings Jared helped Paige at The Dollhouse, and they often ordered takeout for dinner. And at night, they slept in each other’s arms. They had become friends as well as lovers. But two words were never mentioned. Love and marriage.

  They spent Thanksgiving Day with her parents. Everyone stuffed themselves with Dora Summers’s scrumptious Southern food, the four men completely wiping out the savory corn bread dressing.

  Paige marveled at the way Jared seemed to enjoy being a part of her family. Her parents had welcomed him warmly, treating him as if he were a third son. Jared and seventeen-year-old Austen became fast friends, and by the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, Jared had won over Bryant.

  Paige and Jared didn’t discuss the future beyond Angela’s birth and the spring grand opening of The Dollhouse. Instead, they lived in the present.

  Paige knew that they couldn’t go on this way indefinitely—pretending everything was all right. Even though they lived together as if they were husband and wife, they were no closer to marriage than they’d been three months ago. And she wondered how much longer she could go on hoping that Jared would learn to love her.

  She knew he still wanted to marry her, but true to his word, he didn’t ask again. He understood that she would never marry him without love. Why was it so difficult for him to love her—Paige Summers—just the way she was?

  Without telling Paige, Jared hired Marcy Dailey’s rival to decorate the house for Christmas. When the man showed up, Paige promptly dismissed him and confronted Jared.

  “I don’t want some interior designer decorating my house for Christmas,” Paige said. “This is my house, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it’s your house, honey. I just thought hiring someone to decorate would make things easier for you.”

  “Well, your family probably always hired someone to put up a Christmas tree and hang garlands and prepare the food.” Just the way he’d hired someone to decorate Angela’s nursery! “But in my family, we do it ourselves!”

  Jared gave in to her wishes without a fight and insisted she spare no expense in decorating her house for the Christmas season. That’s the way he kept referring to the log cabin—as her house. A couple of times he called it our house, then quickly corrected himself. She wished the cabin was their house, that they could create a real home for Angela.

  Huge pine-and-holly wreaths hung on the double front doors. Pine boughs tied with Yuletide green-and-gold plaid ribbons decorated the den, where Paige had placed a nut-garland swag across the fireplace. A three-foot, fresh-cut pine tree, decorated with country craft ornaments and multicolored lights, took a place of honor on the side of Jared’s gigantic oak desk.

  In the living room, Paige had used red velvet ribbon to accent the pine-and-holly garland draped over the top and down each side of the massive rock fireplace. Various sizes of white candles, interspersed with pinecones and greenery, covered the mantel. Red and white poinsettia plants lined the row of banisters across the open second-story landing.

  And an eight-foot blue spruce placed in front of the wide expanse of living room windows twinkled with the glow from hundreds of mi
niature white lights. A flame-haired angel in white perched atop the tree, guarding an array of her crystal, porcelain, cloth and gold-plated sisters who hung from every branch.

  * * *

  After leaving the office early, Jared and Paige decided to forgo working at The Dollhouse and instead stopped by her parents’ home for dinner. They stayed for a while after their meal, but headed home before the weather turned nasty. According to the six o’clock news report, a winter storm would sweep across Colorado tonight and tomorrow.

  Once home, they went straight into the living room. Jared built a fire in the fireplace while Paige turned on the Christmas tree lights and a floor lamp on the opposite side of the room. She loved the homey holiday atmosphere she had created all around them.

  Kicking her shoes off on the floor, she sat down beside Jared on the larger of the two living room sofas. She snuggled her back against his chest as he pulled her into his embrace, circling her body with his arms.

  “I think we should have Mrs. Clark here on a daily basis after Angela is born.” Jared tenderly rubbed Paige’s full, round tummy. Now, in her sixth month of pregnancy, she had blossomed. Even her slender face had filled out.

  “Mrs. Clark is here twice a week already,” Paige said. “Do you think Angela and I are going to be so messy that we’ll need a full-time housekeeper?”

  “I think that, for a while, you’ll need a little extra help.” He kissed her cheek. “Knowing you, you’ll want to spend every moment with Angela, not waste your time worrying about housework. Besides, once The Dollhouse opens, you won’t have time to do anything around here.”

  “Jared, how can I accept another gift from you? And that’s what having Mrs. Clark here on a daily basis would be.”

  He ran his hands up and down her arms, caressing her softly through her blue silk blouse while he nuzzled her neck. “It’s only natural, as Angela’s father, that I want to take care of her and her mother, isn’t it?”