"We'd met a time or two. Heard he died a while back."
"Yes, he did," Nikki confirmed. "I miss him a great deal."
"Then he was a lucky man," Molly said. "Can't ask more out of life than someone to care enough to miss you when you're gone." She looked past Nikki. "Good bloodlines here, Samuel. You'll have fine children. No sense blushing," she added when Nikki's face flamed with color. "I'm too old to mince my words. Don't have enough time left to spend it finding polite phrases to spare people's sensibilities. Ain't pregnant yet, are you?"
"No." Nikki's denial was strangled.
She heard Sam laugh. "Mary already asked her that, Molly. I'm starting to think there's something you're not telling me, sweetheart."
Nikki shot him a look that would have slain a lesser man where he stood. Sam just grinned. She was grateful to Keefe for stepping forward to greet Molly, drawing attention away from her.
"You're incorrigible, Molly."
"I hope so. There's not much else to be at my age." She held out her hand to him, her eyes warm with affection. "Keefe. How are you?"
"Fine." He took her hand and bent to brush a kiss over her cheek. "I won't ask how you are. I can see the answer for myself."
"You could have seen it anytime these past three years if you'd taken the trouble to visit," she told him sharply. She didn't give him time to answer, but continued in a slightly softer tone. "Have you seen my great-niece lately?"
There was an instant of tense silence that told Nikki there was more to the question than what it seemed on the surface. She was aware of several quick glances being shot in Keefe's direction.
"I haven't seen Dana since the divorce," he answered calmly.
The old woman's ebony cane tapped the floor in a gesture of impatience.
"I expected better of you,, Keefe Walker. Thought you were smarter than my great-niece," Molly said bluntly. "I was pleased as punch when you two got married. Thought you'd manage to hang on to her, keep her away from that silly goose of a mother and that mental midget of a father of hers."
"Sorry I didn't live up to your faith in me," Keefe said with a tight smile. He reached in his pocket for a cigarette, caught his mother's eye and thought better of it.
"I am, too. Dana's got a head on her shoulders, even if she don't choose to use it as often as I'd like. And she never will use it if her parents have their way. A more foolish pair I've never encountered." She peered up at him with a roguish smile. "And at my age, I doubt I'll live long enough to encounter a dumber pair."
"I suspect you'll outlive the lot of us, Molly." Keefe might not have wanted to talk about his ex-wife, but he was obviously quite fond of her great-aunt.
"I might at that." Bracing herself on her cane, she got to her feet, waving away Keefe's attempt to help her rise. "Day comes I can't get up on my own, they can take me out in the pasture and shoot me." She tilted her head back until her eyes met Keefe's. "When I was Dana's age, I wasn't stupid enough to let a man like you slip away. Married the only one I met. And if I were forty years younger, I'd give Dana a run for her money."
"I don't think Dana's in the running anymore," Keefe said dryly. "Besides, if you were forty years younger, I doubt I could handle you."
" 'Course you couldn't," she snapped. "I'd do the handling. And damned lucky you'd be to get me."
"I don't doubt it. They don't make 'em like you anymore, Molly."
"Good thing, too," she said on a rich chuckle.
Molly didn't stay long. She'd just dropped in to wish the family a happy holiday, she said, refusing an invitation to have coffee and pie. Gage returned as she was leaving. He was soaked to the skin, but the haunted look had faded from his eyes.
It was after eight o'clock when Sam suggested that it was time they started the drive back to L.A. Rachel protested immediately.
"It's pouring rain. And it's such a long drive. You wouldn't be home till nearly midnight. Why don't you spend the night?"
"I don't think so, Mom. We really should be getting home."
"Why? I thought you said you had tomorrow off."
"I do, but-"
"Jason, do you have to go to work tomorrow?" Rachel asked, turning to the older man.
"The offices are closed for the weekend. But I couldn't impose myself on you like that."
"Nonsense. There's plenty of room. And I wouldn't be able to sleep for worrying about the three of you out on the roads in this kind of weather."
"I really would rather get home," Sam said. He glanced at Nikki. "I'm sure Nikki would, too."
"Actually, I'm pretty tired," she contradicted, ignoring the demand in his eyes. Obviously, he wanted her to say that she was anxious to get home, but after his annoying behavior earlier, she wasn't particularly in the mood to oblige him. In fact, she rather enjoyed thwarting him.
Besides, she was tired. She stifled a yawn. Her nap in the car hadn't been enough to make up for the week of poor sleep that had preceded it.
"If your mother doesn't mind putting us up, I'd like to stay, honey."
"Honey" looked less than happy, but he didn't pursue the argument. Nikki couldn't suppress the urge to give him a triumphant look. It was time he realized that he wasn't going to win every round. But Sam's response wasn't what she might have expected. Instead of looking annoyed, he looked resigned, and there was a kind of rueful laughter in his eyes which she didn't like at all.
She liked it even less a little while later when she realized why he'd been so adamant about driving back to L.A. and why he'd given her that amused look when she sided with his mother.
"The two of you can have the front room," Rachel was saying as she led the way to the back of the house. "It has its own bathroom."
The two of us? Nikki barely managed to swallow back the urge to repeat the phrase out loud. She wouldn't have been able to keep the horror from her voice. The two of them? As in her and Sam? Together? In the same room? For an entire night?
"It's only a double bed, but you two haven't been married long enough to mind being cozy," Rachel was saying indulgently as she pushed open the bedroom door. "The sun comes in this window first thing in the morning, so you'll need to draw the blinds if you want to sleep late."
"Oh no, I'm sure we won't want to do that," Nikki said, staring at the bed, which seemed to dominate the room. "I have to be back in L.A. before noon," she lied. "So we'll be leaving fairly early i"
It was too bad she couldn't think up a plausible excuse to leave that minute. But no one was likely to buy the idea that she had an appointment in L. A. at midnight.
"If you wouldn't mind helping me make the bed," Rachel said,"then the two of you can call it a night whenever you'd like. I don't have guests very often, so I don't leave the beds made up. I think it's so much nicer to have fresh sheets. Don't you?"
Nikki murmured an agreement, but she wasn't thinking about sheets, fresh or otherwise. There was that phrase again, the two of you, as if she and Sam were a couple. Of course, Rachel had no way of knowing they weren't a couple, but it was still disconcerting to hear her refer to them as if they were a single unit, the way they would have been if this were a real marriage.
Rachel got a set of sheets out of the linen closet in the hall while Nikki stripped the bedspread off the mattress.
"I'm so glad the two of you decided to stay over," Rachel said as they eased the bottom sheet into place. "It's been a long time since I had a houseful of family like this.
It used to get very crowded when the boys were all married."
Nikki's head popped up. "All married?"
"Well, not Gage, of course. I don't know if he'll ever marry. And the way he spends all his time traveling, he's never in one place long enough to get to know anyone. But when the other three were married and they'd all come home for the holidays, this poor house bulged at the seams."
From her smile, it was obvious that she hadn't minded the crowding. She bent to smooth a wrinkle from the crisp white sheet. Nikki was grateful for the chance to cover
up her shock. Sam had been married before? Why hadn't Max told her? Why hadn't Sam told her?
"It was nice having a houseful of people," Rachel said as she straightened. "But then Dana and Keefe split up, and Cole and Roxie. But Cole got custody of Mary, so that certainly could have been worse. The worst of it was when Sara died."
Sara? Sam's wife? He was a widower?
Rachel stared past Nikki, her expression pensive. "I wasn't sure Sam would ever marry again." She was silent for a moment and then seemed to shake herself free of her memories. She focused on Nikki, her smile warm. "I'm so glad he found you. It's good to see him happy again."
Nikki flushed and looked away, at a loss for words. The charade that had seemed so simple was getting more complicated all the time. She'd thought of it as affecting only her life and Sam's, but it was becoming obvious that she'd been ridiculously shortsighted.
Here was Sam's mother thanking her for making him happy again. If it hadn't been so painful, it would have been laughable. The only thing she'd done to make Sam happy was write a very large check. And the only other thing he was likely to want from her was her signature on the divorce papers when the year was up. .
Chapter 9
The bedroom door had barely closed behind Sam before Nikki pounced.
"Why didn't you say something?" she demanded.
He didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "What should I have said? 'Sorry, Mom, we can't spend the night because we'd have to share a room.' Don't you think it would have looked a bit' odd if we had separate bedrooms a month after the wedding?"
"Lots of married couples sleep in separate bedrooms."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they'd rather drive three hours in a rainstorm rather than face sharing a bed."
Nikki's spine stiffened and her eyes turned a pure, icy green. "We are not sharing a bed."
"If you speak a little louder, maybe the whole house will be able to hear you." The accusation was unfair since she'd been keeping her voice low, but he wasn't particularly concerned with fairness at the moment. It had been a long day.
He was tired and not particularly thrilled at the prospect of the night ahead.
"We are not sharing that bed," she repeated.
Sam had never before heard anyone make a whisper sound like a shout. It was a unique talent, but one he was a little too tired to appreciate at the moment. If it hadn't been such a long day, with an even longer night to follow, he might have dragged out the discussion for the sheer pleasure of watching her lay down the law. "You're right. We are not sharing that bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
Nikki was already drawing breath to argue with him when it registered that there was nothing to argue about. She gave him a look of mingled relief and annoyance.
"The floor isn't going to be very comfortable," she said.
"Do you have a better idea?" Sam unbuttoned his shirt cuffs.
"Maybe I should be the one who sleeps on the floor. After all, this is your home...."
"This is my mother's home," he corrected. "And I'm not going to arm-wrestle you for the right to spend a miserable night trying to get comfortable on the cold, hard floor, so unless you're desperate to sleep there, I'd suggest you don't argue. My chivalrous streak isn't very wide."
She stared at him consideringly for a moment. He could almost see the debate going on in her head. Did she protest politely and risk having to sleep on the floor or did she give in and let him have the last word? He should have known she'd find a way to do neither.
"As a strong nineties kind of woman, I should insist on equal-opportunity misery."
Sam's grin was slow. "As a nineties kind of man, I wouldn't dream of standing in your way." He swept one hand out in invitation. "The floor is yours if you insist."
"That's quite all right. It's enough that you respect my right to sleep there. You're welcome to it," she said graciously.
"Gee, thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"I won't," he said dryly. "I'm going to get ready for bed. If your sensibilities would be shocked by the sight of me in my underwear, then I suggest you turn the light out while I'm in the bathroom."
Their eyes met and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was, which was that she'd seen him in considerably less. Nikki looked away first, her cheeks a little flushed.
"Lucky for me that your mother had something I could wear," she said, gesturing to the nightgown she wore.
Sam wished she hadn't mentioned it. He'd really have preferred not to think about her in a nightgown, because that made him think about her in bed, and that didn't bear thinking about. At least his mother hadn't loaned her some silk-and-lace thing designed to drive a man wild. The garment was floor-length white cotton with a pattern of tiny pink roses scattered across it. Long-sleeved, high-necked, modest enough for a nun. And damned if she didn't look sexy as hell in it.
He cleared his throat. "Looks big enough for an entire family to sleep in," he said casually.
She laughed, a soft, husky sound that shivered down his spine. "The colors might be a little subdued, but I'm sure there's enough fabric for a circus tent."
"Gotta be close." He looked away and reached for the top button on his shirt. "I'm beat. I'm going to clean up and try and get some sleep."
"Okay." Nikki turned away and then hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Are you sure? About sleeping on the floor, I mean?"
Was she trying to drive him nuts? She was standing there with the light behind her and he could see the shadowy outline of her slender body beneath the prim nightie. The odd juxtaposition of modesty and sensuality was sexier than if she'd been standing in front of him completely nude. Sam was caught off guard by a wave of gut-level hunger.
"I'll be fine on the floor. Unless you want to share the bed,'' he said huskily.
His eyes met hers and saw them widen at the desire he didn't trouble to conceal. Something flickered in her eyes, an awareness that made it clear that he wasn't the only one conscious of the potential explosiveness of the situation. He had a moment to wonder just what he'd do if she said yes, and then she looked away and the moment was gone.
"The floor looks fairly soft," she said with a nervous half smile.
"Tell that to my back," he grumbled without heat.
He shut the bathroom door without waiting for her to respond. Leaning his hands on the edge of the sink, Sam stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for signs of incipient insanity. Had he actually just suggested that he and Nikki might sleep together? Wasn't his life complicated enough without adding sleeping with his wife to it?
When he opened the bathroom door ten minutes later, he'd taken the time to give himself a firm talking to. His marriage to Nikki was in name only, which was exactly how he wanted it to stay. It was one thing to be civil. It was even okay to admit that there were moments when he thought he might actually like the woman he'd married. And he'd be a fool to try and deny her attractiveness. But that was as far as it could go. He didn't need the added problems that would come with acting on that attraction.
Nikki had taken his advice and the bedroom was dark. Before he shut off the bathroom light, Sam saw that she'd folded the heavy bedspread and laid it on the floor as a makeshift mattress. A blanket and one of the pillows completed his bed. He flicked out the light and then waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before making his way across the bedroom.
He'd slept in more comfortable places, but he'd also slept in much worse, Sam thought as he laid his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. listening to the rain beating against the side of the house, he had to admit that, floor or no, this was certainly nicer than being on a freeway somewhere between here and Los Angeles.
Now if he could manage to forget that a beautiful, sexy woman who just happened to be his wife was lying only a few feet away. If he could convince himself that he was all alone...
"Sam?"
The sound of her voice, pitched l
ow and intimate, did nothing to relax his tense body. Maybe if he didn't say anything, she'd think he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.
"Sam? Are you asleep?"
His eyes popped open and he stared at the ceiling. "I'm awake."
"I think today went pretty well, don't you? I mean, I don't think anyone suspects anything."
"I told you they wouldn't."
"It just seems so obvious to me that we're not really married that it's hard for me to believe it isn't obvious to everyone else. I guess it's just my guilty conscience."
"There's nothing to feel guilty about," he said firmly, ignoring the fact that his own conscience was less than comfortable with the deception they were playing.
"I can't help but feel guilty when your family has been so nice. They've accepted me as if I really was your wife."
"You are my wife." Funny how it was getting easier to think of her that way.
"Only on paper."
He heard the covers rustle as she turned over, and he closed his eyes, trying not to think about her in bed, with nothing between her and the sheets but that soft nightgown. Nothing between her and his hands... He opened his eyes and stared up the ceiling again. Maybe she'd go to sleep now. Maybe she'd—
"Sam?"
He closed his eyes in resignation. "Yeah?"
"I didn't mean to upset anyone when I asked about the little girl in the picture."
Sam felt his body tighten. "You couldn't have known it was a problem."
There was another silence from the bed, and he hoped she was going to drop the subject even when he knew it wasn't going to happen.
"Was Shannon your sister?"
It took him so long to respond that Nikki began to think he was going to ignore the question. Maybe she'd overstepped the undefined boundaries of their relationship by asking.
"Shannon is my half sister," Sam said finally.
"Is?" There was surprise in Nikki's voice. "I thought... The way your mother referred to her, I thought..." She let the words trail off.
"That she was dead? She's not." There was a fierceness behind the words, as if saying them could make them true.
A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Page 11