A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage

by Dallas Schulze

  "A year after my father died, Mom remarried." Sam spoke rapidly, wanting to get the the story over with. He didn't like talking about what had happened. "She was lonely, and I think she had some idea that the four of us needed a father. So she married Seth Hardesty. He was a cop, like my father had been, and she met him through a mutual friend.

  "The marriage was a mistake. Seth didn't like sharing his wife with four children who weren't even his, and the feeling was mutual. He thought we were undisciplined little louts and we thought he was a complete bastard. We were probably both right," he admitted with bleak humor.

  "We didn't make it easy for him, but his idea of discipline usually involved using his belt on one of us. I was thirteen and big for my age. He only tried to hit me once."

  Nikki's heart ached for the boy he'd been. He might have been big for his age, but he'd still been a thirteen-year-old, still a child. It couldn't have been easy for him to stand up to a grown man.

  "I warned him about hitting any of the others and I thought he'd listened. I told him I'd kill him if he hurt my brothers." There was something in his voice that told Nikki it hadn't been an idle threat. "I thought things were settling down, but Mom came home one day and caught him beating the hell out of Cole for some minor infraction of one of Seth's rules. I think she already knew the marriage had been a mistake, but that was the push she needed to end things. She divorced him, but she was already pregnant with Shannon."

  He stared up at the darkened ceiling, remembering. Nikki was quiet, waiting for him to finish the story.

  "I think we were all a little shell-shocked by then. First Dad dying, then Seth, then the divorce. Shannon was the first good thing that had happened to the family in a long time. We were all old enough that there was no question of resenting her, and we spoiled her rotten. It's a wonder she didn't become an obnoxious little brat. But she was a great little kid. As soon as she could walk, she'd follow one or the other of us around. We all adored her.''

  He fell silent, as if lost in memories. Nikki wasn't sure she wanted to know what had happened anymore. Some memories were better left undisturbed. But now that he'd started, it seemed Sam intended to finish the story.

  "Seth had visitation rights, of course. Not that he bothered to take advantage of them very often. But he popped in and out of Shannon's life, seeing her once or twice a year, just enough so that we couldn't forget him, which was probably why he did it.

  "Shannon was about four when he tried to convince Mom to give the marriage another try. She wanted no part of him and told him so. He seemed to take it fairly well, but it must have rankled with him. A couple of weeks later, he came to pick Shannon up to spend the weekend with him. He never brought her back."

  He said it so simply that it took several seconds for his meaning to sink in.

  "You mean he just disappeared with her?"

  "Into thin air."

  "And you haven't seen her since?"

  "No."

  "But that was years ago.''

  "Nineteen." The way he said it told her that the wound was far from healed.

  "Didn't he call? Let you know that she was all right? Give some explanation?"

  "No."

  "Did you try to find her?"

  "Sure. But thousands of children disappear every year and are never seen again. Shannon was one of them."

  Nikki knew that tragedies like the one he'd just described were more common than anyone wanted to believe. But it was one thing to know it on an impersonal level, something else to hear about it happening to someone she knew. She thought of the family portrayed in the photograph, of the smiling faces. And then she thought of the pain in Rachel's face, in Sam's voice. Nineteen years later, the hurt was still close to the surface. There wasn't enough time in the world to get over something like that.

  "I'm sorry." The words seemed hopelessly inadequate, but there was nothing else she could offer.

  "Yeah. Me too," Sam said softly.

  They didn't speak again. Nikki lay awake for a long time, staring into the darkness. She was sorry she'd asked about the child in the picture, sorry she'd brought up something so painful to him. It would be a long time before she forgot the pain that had roughened his voice.

  When she'd married Sam, she'd seen him as the means to an end. She hadn't given much thought to him as a person. But she was starting to realize that it wasn't possible to share a house and a marriage license with someone and avoid coming to know them as an individual.

  She turned over and tucked the pillow under her cheek, frowning at the wall opposite the bed. She didn't want to know him as a person. It made things more complicated. Meeting his family complicated things. And the fact that she liked them only made it worse. It had been simpler when she'd disliked him, when he'd been nothing more than an annoying necessity in her life.

  Nikki closed her eyes determinedly. Tomorrow they'd be back in L. A. and things could get back to normal. She and Sam would go back to being nodding acquaintances. She preferred it when there was plenty of distance between them.

  ❧

  The sound of someone knocking on the door woke Sam out of a light sleep. He was momentarily disoriented when he opened his eyes and found himself staring at the carpet inches from his nose. But the fogginess lasted only a moment, and it hit him that, whoever was outside the door, he didn't want them to see him sleeping on the floor while his wife of barely a month had the bed all to herself.

  He lunged to his feet, bringing his pillow and blanket with him. He threw them at the bed and bent to snatch up the bedspread that had served as a mattress. It hit the foot of the bed in a jumbled heap and slid off onto the floor.

  Nikki had been more deeply asleep when the knock came, and she was just turning over and opening her eyes when she felt a solid weight hit the bed. Her eyes flew open and she found herself nose to nipple with a man's naked chest. She opened her mouth, but the startled shriek emerged as a muffled squeak as Sam's hand closed over her lower face.

  "It's me," he hissed in her ear. With his free hand, he was shoving the pillow he'd used back against the headboard and trying to pull the covers into place. The knock came again, louder this time. He saw understanding in Nikki's eyes and moved his hand.

  "There's someone at the door," she whispered.

  "No kidding." Sam jerked the blanket into position. "Come in," he called. As the doorknob turned, he slid his arm under Nikki and pulled her solidly against his side. She immediately stiffened and tried to pull back.

  "We're newlyweds, remember?"

  "We're not that newlywed," she muttered between her teeth just as the door opened.

  Keefe stood in the doorway. His dark eyes skimmed over the tangled covers and the couple nestled cozily in their

  midst. He arched one brow in silent commentary. Nikki blushed, looking more angry than embarrassed.

  Sam scowled at the amusement in his brother's eyes. "What do you want?"

  The amusement deepened. Keefe propped one shoulder against the doorjamb, looking as if he planned on staying awhile. "I can see being married hasn't made you a morning person. You're going to have to work on that, Nikki. See if you can convince him that life begins before noon."

  "Actually, I'm not overly fond of mornings myself," Nikki said. Shifting subtly, she tried to wedge a little space between herself and Sam, but he kept her firmly clamped against his side.

  "Obviously the two of you are well suited." Keefe blandly ignored Sam's furious look and slouched a little more comfortably.

  "I'm glad you approve," Sam said through gritted teeth. He'd had precious little sleep the night before and was not really in the mood for the game his brother was playing. Talking about Shannon had brought up a lot of old memories and it hadn't been easy to shake them. And he'd spent more time than he cared to admit thinking about the woman sleeping just a few feet away.

  Now he was actually in that bed with her. And she was pressed against him with very little between them. The cotton nightgown, for al
l its modesty, was not a very effective barrier. He could feel every inch of her along his side, the softness of her breast pressed against him, the smooth curve of her waist under his hand. Sam shifted uncomfortably and felt the silky length of her bare leg against his where the nightgown had twisted up.

  "Was there something you wanted?" Sam asked, not troubling to hide his annoyance. Damn it all, Keefe knew, better than anyone, what the true situation was.

  "Actually, I-"

  "Good morning." Gage looked over Keefe's shoulder and grinned at the couple in the bed. "You two look cozy."

  "Thanks," Sam muttered. Nikki shifted, seeking some distance between them. The softness of the mattress defeated her, and she succeeded only in rubbing her leg against his. Sam swallowed the urge to groan.

  "If you guys don't mind—"

  "Uncle Sam!" Mary darted between Gage and Keefe and ran over to the bed. "You're awake."

  "Yeah." Sam conjured a smile for his small niece. "Good morning, rug rat."

  "I'm not a rug rat," she told him firmly. "Babies are rug rats. I'm not a baby." She perched on the foot of the bed and studied Sam and Nikki with the open curiosity of the very young. "You're in the same bed."

  The simple observation turned Nikki's face pink and brought a snort of laughter from the two men in the doorway.

  "Yes, we are," Sam said, shooting a killing look at his brothers.

  "Is that 'cause you're married?"

  "Yes." Maybe this was a sort of cosmic punishment for the deception they were practicing. "We'd really like to-"

  "I told you not to wake them, Mary." Cole's tall figure filled in what little space was left in the doorway. "Morning, you two."

  "What is this?" Sam snarled. "Is someone selling tickets?"

  "What kind of tickets, Uncle Sam?"

  "I think he means that the room is getting a little crowded," Cole suggested. He grinned at his oldest brother.

  "Nikki might as well find out now what kind of a family she's married into."

  "A bunch of voyeurs," Sam muttered in disgust.

  "What's a voyer?"

  "Never mind, urchin." Cole came into the room and lifted his daughter from the bed. "I think your aunt and uncle would like to be alone."

  "So they can kiss?" she asked. "My friend Bambi says her big sister just got married and all they do is kiss and kiss and kiss. Do you kiss Aunt Nikki a lot?" Perched on her father's hip, she looked at them with bright-eyed curiosity.

  "All the time," Sam managed in a strangled voice, torn between frustration and laughter.

  "Can I watch?"

  Gage and Keefe laughed out loud. Cole grinned. "Kissing isn't a spectator sport," he told his daughter. "That means it isn't for people to watch."

  "How come? People kiss on TV."

  "This isn't television," Sam told her. He didn't dare look at Nikki. From the rigidity of her body, he suspected she might be on the verge of bolting for safety.

  "Don't you want to kiss Aunt Nikki?" Once she'd gotten an idea in her head, Mary wasn't inclined to let go of it.

  "Yeah, Sam. Don't you want to kiss Aunt Nikki?" Keefe asked, his eyes gleaming with a wicked amusement.

  Gage didn't know the truth about his brother's marriage, but he did recognize an opportunity for harassment. "I'd certainly want to kiss Aunt Nikki if I were married to her."

  "What I want is to be an only child," Sam said, his glare encompassing all three of his brothers.

  "But don't you want to kiss her?" Mary asked, showing a tenacity at odds with her delicate appearance.

  Sam stared at her helplessly. There was more truth in his answer than he would have liked. "Of course I want to kiss her."

  He sucked in a sharp breath as Nikki's fingers found the skin over his ribs and pinched viciously. The message was unmistakable and enough to make him give up the half-formed thought of using his niece's innocent curiosity to satisfy his own not-so-innocent urges.

  "But I don't want to kiss her with everyone staring at us."

  "We'd close our eyes," Gage offered helpfully.

  "I wouldn't," Keefe said, grinning at his older brother.

  It was just as well that Rachel entered the picture just then, because Sam's response would probably not have been fit for Mary's young ears.

  "What have you got going—a convention?" she asked, poking her head in the door. Her gaze went from Nikki's flushed face to the temper simmering in Sam's eyes to the pure mischief in her other sons' expressions. "Out," she ordered briskly. "Stop harassing Sam and Nikki. Keefe, did you tell them breakfast would be ready soon?"

  "Gage showed up before I got a chance to," he said.

  "I don't remember putting my hand over your mouth to keep you from talking," Gage protested.

  "Don't start squabbling," Rachel told them.

  "He started it," Gage said, doing a creditable twelve-year-old whine.

  Despite the situation, Nikki found herself laughing. The sight of Gage, at six foot two and looking like a Greek god, whining like a preadolescent brat was too ridiculous. He grinned at her, blatantly pleased with himself.

  "Don't encourage him," Sam muttered, less in the mood to be amused by any of his siblings.

  "Out," Rachel said again, making shooing motions. "Keefe, there's bacon on the stove. See that it doesn't burn. Gage, you can scramble the eggs."

  "He always overcooks them," Cole complained.

  "Then you can cook the eggs," she said promptly. "And your brother can take care of the pancakes. Mary, you make sure your father and your uncles do as they're told."

  "I've always envied only children," Sam grumbled as the room emptied.

  "Can't say I blame you," Rachel said, with an exasperated look at her departing offspring. "I asked Keefe to wake you, but I didn't expect it to turn into a convention. I hope they didn't embarrass you too much, Nikki."

  "Not at all," Nikki lied.

  Now that they were gone, she was less concerned with Sam's brother's teasing than she was with the fact that she was still plastered to Sam's body. A very warm, muscular, male body, one that set off tremors she had no business feeling.

  "Why was Keefe supposed to wake us?'' Sam asked. He rubbed one hand over his face to conceal a yawn.

  "Because I knew you wanted to get started early."

  "We did?"

  "Nikki needs to get back to L.A., remember?"

  "She does?" He gave his mother a blank look that sharpened quickly when Nikki's fingers found the tender skin over his ribs again. "Oh yeah. I forgot."

  Rachel gave him a questioning look, but all she said was, "Breakfast will be on the table in twenty minutes, if your brothers don't start a food fight."

  The door had barely shut behind her when Nikki wrenched herself loose from Sam's hold. He watched with unabashed interest as she scrambled off the bed. He caught only a glimpse of long legs before she jerked the nightgown down and into place.

  "If you ever manhandle me like that again, I'm going to call the police," she snapped, shoving her hair back from her face.

  "I am the police. Besides, I'm the one with bruises." Sam rubbed his side for emphasis. "You've got fingernails like a damned velociraptor."

  "You're just lucky I couldn't get to your throat. You didn't have to hold me so tight."

  "We're supposed to be newlyweds," he reminded her. He folded his hands under his head and watched as she stalked across the room to where her clothing lay in a neat pile.

  "You had me squashed so close, we looked more like Siamese twins than newlyweds." But he noticed the heat had gone out of her voice.

  "I wasn't the one who made up some story about having to leave early, which led to Keefe coming in to wake us."

  "I thought we'd want an excuse to get out of here this morning. I don't think we should push our luck with this whole charade we're playing."

  "Not a bad idea," he admitted. "But if you'd let me know, I could have made it a point to be up and about before anyone was likely to come knocking on the door."
>
  Nikki turned to look at him, her fine brows drawn in a frown. Wearing the modest cotton gown, with her hair falling in tousled waves and not a scrap of makeup on her face, she didn't exactly look like a centerfold, but Sam had never seen a stapled-in-the-middle model who sent such a sharp stab of awareness through him. A quick surge of hunger made him want to pull her onto the bed again and not let her up until the sun went back down. Didn't he want to kiss her, Mary had asked. The problem was he wanted to kiss her too damned much.

  "I think Keefe suspects something." Nikki's worried comment distracted Sam from his lustful—and completely inappropriate—thoughts.

  "Keefe?" He stalled for time.

  "There's something about the way he looks at us, as if he suspects something." Her teeth tugged at her lower lip. "Do you think he's guessed that we're not really married?"

  "Guessed?" Sam hesitated, reluctant to tell her that Keefe hadn't had to guess. But she looked so worried and he was surprised to discover that he didn't like seeing her look that way. "Keefe doesn't suspect anything."

  "How can you be so sure? The way he looks at us—"

  "He knows the truth. I told him a couple of weeks ago."

  "You told him? I thought we agreed that no one was going to know the truth about us."

  "I suppose you didn't tell your friend Iiz?" He arched one brow in question.

  "I told Liz," she admitted.

  "I told Keefe. We're even." He shrugged.

  Nikki tried not to notice the way the movement drew attention to the furry width of his chest. For some reason, it was difficult to notice anything else. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen his chest before, she thought, exasperated by her wandering attention. It was an unfortunate reminder, bringing back memories of the day she'd walked into his room. She'd seen a great deal more than his chest that day.

  She looked away, trying to marshal her scattered thoughts and drag them back to the conversation at hand. It probably didn't matter that Keefe knew the truth. And she could hardly blame Sam for telling his brother, when she'd told her best friend. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Keefe knows?"

  "I thought we'd already established that." Sam stifled another yawn.