Caught in the Crossfire

by Annette Broadrick

  "So we had a fancier wedding than we'd planned and now we have a surprise honeymoon. We'll have to deal with it."

  "I know."

  She said nothing more but Jared knew she was thinking about their first night together. Instead of separate rooms, they'd be sharing one. He'd been dwelling on the same thought and decided this was part of his continued punishment for having the audacity to sleep with the senator's daughter.

  He knew he wasn't being fair. The senator wanted his daughter to have happy memories of her wedding and honeymoon. The problem was, they hadn't discussed the conditions of the marriage.

  They'd agreed that after they married they would have separate bedrooms. That was clear enough. No sex. He could handle that—if she slept clear across the house from him.

  Sure, he'd been in bed with her once, but he'd been unconscious at the time.

  "So what are we going to do?" he asked out loud, following his train of thought.

  "About what?" she asked, sounding puzzled.

  Might as well get the subject out in the open. "The rules for the next week."

  "I'm sorry. I was dozing and must not be fully awake. I'm afraid I'm not following you."

  "I'm talking about sex," he said, his jaw clenched.

  "Oh."

  "Yeah."

  She didn't speak right away, which meant she was thinking about possible rules. So he waited. Finally, she said, "Making love will complicate things."

  "Probably."

  "I mean, we made the arrangement thinking that—"

  "I know what we were thinking, Lindsey. However, I'm not superhuman, nor am I immune to you. I'm a normal male with normal needs. We were together enough for you to know that you turn me on. Always have."

  "Oh."

  "Is that all you can say?"

  "So you want to make love to me?"

  "C'mon, Lindsey. You're not naive. At least, not that naive."

  "No, I'm not. However, I'm observant. You haven't kissed me since we agreed on this until the kiss at the altar today. I decided that was because you weren't attracted to me."

  "You're wrong. You have no idea how wrong. How many men have you gone out with, anyway?"

  "Are you deliberately being insulting?"

  "No."

  "Am I supposed to ask you how many women you've been with?"

  "You're missing the point here. You don't seem to know much about the male psyche. Most men want to have sex with an attractive woman. The longer he goes out with her—generally speaking, of course—the more intensely he wants to make love to her."

  "Generally speaking, as you say. Well, I've never had to fight off any of the men I've dated, so I think your theory needs a little work."

  "We don't attack the woman! Good grief. But we let her know in more subtle ways that we want to take her to bed."

  "Crawling into my bed wasn't exactly subtle, Jared."

  He felt like beating his head against the steering wheel. "I refuse to discuss that incident any further. We each have our own view of what happened, let's just leave it that way. Just so you know, I had no intention of making love to you while we were seeing each other. Because sometimes sex does complicate things."

  "Only sometimes?"

  "Okay, most of the time. Is that better? And you're just not the love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of woman."

  "In other words, I'm really not your style."

  "Stop putting words into my mouth."

  She clapped her hands together and said, "Oh, goody! We're having our very first fight. And we've been married about—" she glanced at her watch "—almost eight, no, make that nine hours. Some kind of record, I bet."

  "Very funny. Let me put it this way. Most men expect to make love to their wives on their wedding night. This is our wedding night. So—what do you say? Shall we follow tradition?"

  Well, that certainly shut her up. She didn't say another word until they reached Austin and she spotted the hotel where they'd be staying.

  "There it is," she said quietly, and he flipped on his turn signal.

  The hotel the senator—or more likely a member of his staff—had chosen was upscale. Nothing but the best for his daughter. Once Jared checked them in and received the key card, he returned to the car with one of the hotel attendants who took their bags. He then moved the car from the entrance of the hotel and parked. "Ready?" he asked, opening his door.

  He walked around and opened hers. He offered his hand, which she graciously accepted. She looked at him and said coolly, "To sleep, yes. To make love, no."

  "Wow. It only took you the better part of an hour to come to that decision."

  They went inside the hotel and walked to the elevator. Once the door closed, giving them privacy, she looked at him and asked politely, "Why are you being so obnoxious?"

  He glanced at her and said, "Well, let me count the reasons. I'm frustrated, aroused, feeling trapped and I'm forced to spend a week pretending to be a lovesick bridegroom while keeping a careful distance from my deliciously sexy bride. I can look all I want but I can't touch." He shrugged. "Other than that, I guess I'm just naturally obnoxious."

  He was being a jerk and he knew it. The problem was, he didn't care. The past two weeks had been the toughest he'd ever spent. He'd worked hard to convince his family that marrying Lindsey was what he wanted more than anything, and he hated lying to them.

  In addition, a marriage in name only didn't appeal to him in the least.

  Today had been particularly harrowing. As soon as he'd seen Lindsey walking toward him in that regal gown, all he could think about was sweeping her into his arms and rushing her to the first available bed he could find where he'd keep her for at least a week.

  And guess what? Her dear father made sure he'd have that opportunity!

  * * *

  Their luggage was already there when they arrived at their room. Jared closed the door behind them and set the lock before following Lindsey into the bedroom area. The room contained two queen-size beds separated by a bedside table. There was also a large dresser, a television cabinet, a small round table and a couple of chairs. Regardless of what else had been placed in the room, the beds dominated.

  He averted his eyes while he placed her suitcase on the luggage rack that had been provided. "There you go," he said and, without looking at her, wandered over to the window. "I don't know about you," he said without turning around, "but I'm hungry. I think I'll order something from room service. Do you want anything?"

  When she didn't answer, he turned and looked at her. She sat at the end of one of the beds gazing around the room as though she'd never been in a hotel room before tonight.

  "Lindsey?"

  "Oh! Sorry. Yes, please. A chef salad and iced tea, please."

  He called in their order. When he hung up, Lindsey said, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower."

  Jared stretched out on the other bed and propped pillows behind his head. "Fine. You do that." He did his best not to think of her standing under the shower, the water trickling down her bare body, sliding between her breasts and—

  She made a startled sound and he opened his eyes. Lindsey stood in front of her open suitcase with her back to him.

  "What's wrong?"

  She turned and looked at him with dismay. "Do you remember the old joke that goes, 'Cheer up, things could be worse, so I cheered up and sure enough things got worse'?"

  "Maybe. So what's wrong now?"

  "My suitcase appears to be filled with somebody else's clothes."

  He walked over and peered into her bag. He picked up a few of the things and looked at them. The suitcase was filled with a rainbow of colors. Definitely tropical attire—if she wanted a good tan over a majority of her body!

  "What's this?" He lifted out a peach-colored wisp of material with a bunch of lace on it.

  "A nightgown," she said. Her voice quivered slightly. Was she going to cry?

  He glanced at her and saw that she was nibbling her bottom lip. He though
t about offering to nibble for her but figured she wouldn't appreciate his attempt at humor.

  "Does this look to you like something I would sleep in?"

  Remembering the demure cotton nightgown he'd seen her in, he couldn't hide his smile. "Um, no. Not really."

  Lindsey riffled through everything in the suitcase before she stepped back and threw up her hands.

  "I don't believe this."

  Hoping to lighten the atmosphere a little, he walked over to his bag. "I can hardly wait to see what Mom and Ashley decided was the proper attire for a new husband visiting the tropics."

  He lost all sign of his sense of humor once he opened the bag. There wasn't a pair of jeans, boots or a western shirt in the bunch. The trousers were khaki or cotton. There were a couple of dress shirts, trousers, a sports jacket and a few beachwear shorts, sneakers and flip-flops.

  He looked grimly at Lindsey and saw that she was watching him. When she caught his eye, she nodded and said, "Well, at least we know what happened." He saw her mouth twitch.

  "What?"

  "We have the wrong luggage. I wonder who has ours?" And then she burst into laughter, sinking onto the bed and holding her sides.

  He thought of the absurdity of the entire day that had culminated with strip-show attire for Lindsey and nerdy stuff for him, and joined her laughter.

  Only her laughter didn't stop. It turned into sobs and he realized that she'd kept her nerves under control all day, despite his comments and disgruntlement, until everything became too much for her.

  He felt lower than a snake. Regardless of the circumstances, nothing of this had been her fault. As she'd pointed out at the time, she hadn't been found in his bed. So why had he taken his frustration out on her?

  She was doubled over, her forehead resting on her knees in an attempt to muffle the sound. Jared felt like a complete louse. He moved over to her and sat down beside her. She jerked away without looking at him.

  "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He handed her his handkerchief, which she reluctantly accepted, and he waited. Eventually she straightened and turned her head away from him, furiously wiping at her face.

  "What are you sorry for?" She sounded angry, which he could handle a lot more easily than her tears.

  "For being a complete jerk."

  She blew her nose. "If you're waiting for me to contradict you, you'll be waiting a long time." She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Lindsey came out when the food arrived and they ate without speaking.

  After they ate and she appeared to be calmer, Jared said, "I'm really not some prehistoric ape who will wait until you fall asleep to grab you." He held up his hand. "I solemnly promise."

  The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

  "If you're not comfortable sleeping in one of those see-through nightgowns, I bet we can find something in my suitcase for you to wear. It may be gaudy as hell, but it would cover you."

  He'd never seen her look more vulnerable than when she smiled at him and said, "Well, we seem to be continuing with all the traditions. Now I'm the bride who cried on her wedding night."

  Jared chuckled. "That's usually what a bride does after sex, not instead of sex."

  She punched his arm. "Are you ever serious?"

  "I can be, but in this particular case we need to hang on to our senses of humor and not treat this like some kind of tragedy. We're here. We're married. We have two beds. We'll get some sleep, get up at an ungodly hour in order to get to the airport by four-thirty. We'll fly to Cancun, enjoy the sea, sand and surf, eat way too much, get great tans and come back home."

  "Without sex." There was a hint of a question in her voice.

  How was he to respond to that one? Hmm. "I tell you what," he finally said, "I'm going to leave that up to you. If you say yes I can promise you that it won't be about sex. I'll be making love to you. I assure you that I don't intend to claim any husbandly rights that you don't offer. But don't ever think that I don't want you, Lindsey."

  She shifted and placed her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she said softly, and kissed him.

  He placed his hands at her waist to remind himself not to touch her anywhere else while he followed her lead. When he responded, she seemed to gain some confidence, so that by the time she sat back from him, he was in bad shape with no hope of relief.

  He moved away and stood. "I'll find you something to sleep in," he mumbled and went back to his bag. When he finally turned to face her, he had himself somewhat under control. He held out a T-shirt and a shirt that buttoned. "Take your pick," he said.

  She took both of them and disappeared into the bathroom. A minute or so later he heard the shower running.

  Great going, Crenshaw. Now you'll spend the week wondering if she's going to decide to make love with you or not. Be sure to enjoy your restful, relaxing week at the beach.

  Eight

  When the alarm went off a few hours later, Lindsey was surprised to discover that she'd been sound asleep. She would have sworn she'd be awake all night.

  She reached for the alarm just as Jared hit the off button, and there was blessed silence. She waited for him to turn on the light.

  When he didn't, she said tentatively, "Jared."

  "Mmm," was his only reply.

  "Do you mind if I turn on the light?"

  "Wha—? Oh, sure." She heard him yawn.

  Lindsey had slept in the T-shirt Jared had given her, which came to her knees. She'd appreciated his offer.

  She turned on the light and sat on the side of the bed. Jared had his arm over his eyes and she smiled. Either he was giving her some privacy or protecting his eyes from the glare.

  She gathered up the clothes she'd laid out to wear and hurried into the bathroom. As soon as she was dressed, she came out and said, "It's all yours."

  She caught him in the middle of a stretch, his jeans low on his hips. How was it he could look so sexy in the morning, needing a shave and with his hair standing out in every direction?

  "Thanks," he said and turned toward her. He did a double take. "Wow," he said quietly.

  "What?"

  "You look great in red. I like the dress, but aren't your shoulders going to be cold?"

  Spaghetti straps were holding the dress on. "I'll wear my jacket until we get to Cancun."

  He nodded, still looking at her. The dress was form-fitting to the waist, then swirled out into a very full skirt that stopped at her knees.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. "This was the least revealing outfit they packed for me," she said abruptly.

  "Oh! Sorry. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just that—well, you just look so—" he threw up his hands "—sexy in that outfit. You're going to get mobbed as soon as men see you."

  She walked over and picked up her jacket. "Somehow I doubt that very much." She slipped her arms into the light coat. "Better?"

  He started to speak, stopped and strode toward the bathroom. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. "Believe it or not, I meant everything that I said as a compliment, not to antagonize you. I'd really like to be able to get through a day around you without your getting all bent out of shape." As he closed the door behind him, he added, "Just a thought."

  She stared at the closed door, squeezed her eyes shut and did her best to muffle her groan.

  What was the matter with her, anyway? She wasn't normally so sensitive to compliments. The problem was that she was way out of her comfort zone. She'd always thought that when she decided to marry, the man she chose would be someone she'd known for ages, with whom she would be comfortable, and that the two of them would be friends as well as lovers.

  She'd given no thought to spending any time with Jared Crenshaw. He made her nervous. She didn't like the way he made her feel when she was around him. All jittery and nervous. Off balance. All right, and naive, as well.

  Now she wondered what she'd gotten herself into. She'd panicked when her dad had become so ill and she had wanted to make
him happy. In other words, she'd fallen right back into her old pattern.

  Only this time, someone else was inextricably involved as well.

  After she closed her bag, she sat on the end of her bed and waited for Jared to appear. He'd put on his jeans, shirt and boots. As soon as he walked out, the scent of aftershave wafting around him, she said, "I'm sorry. You're absolutely right. I'm being ridiculous, overreacting to everything you say." She stood and held out her hand. "Pax?"

  He looked at her hand. "All right," he said slowly, giving it a quick shake and immediately releasing it. "And I've got to admit I'm not at my best at—" he looked at his watch "—four-thirty in the morning, so I figure we're even." In a brisk tone he said, "The airport is a couple of minutes away. We can leave the car here and they'll keep an eye on it and shuttle us to the airport. Do you have everything?"

  She nodded. He picked up their bags and motioned with his head for her to lead the way.

  * * *

  Once the plane leveled off in the air, Jared leaned his seat back and closed his eyes. Lindsey sat by the window and watched the clouds and the glimpses of water as they cleared the Texas coast.

  She returned to the thoughts that had kept her awake for most of the night—making love with Jared.

  She couldn't argue with the fact that this week would be agonizingly awkward, if last night was any example. Even with two beds, they would be sharing a room and a bath.

  Lindsey admitted to herself how attracted she was to the man. She'd found him fascinating while they were dating, and his kisses had let her know that she was vulnerable where he was concerned. Now they were married. Why shouldn't she explore the feelings he aroused in her? They had a week of privacy and he'd made his feelings on the subject plain enough. There was no reason for her to get so uptight about their situation.

  She'd never been tempted to make love to any of the men she'd dated in college and since her graduation, and no one had ever gotten out of line. Perhaps that was because she was R. W. Russell's daughter.

  Jared was the only man she'd met who didn't appear to be intimidated by her father or his position. His offer of marriage hadn't been because of her dad's attitude, but because he'd wanted to do the right thing by her.