She’d just have to deal with it. No matter what he said tonight.
Either way, what was happening to her, the fact that a life was growing inside her, was a miracle that was still beyond her complete comprehension. The only thing she knew for certain was that it was an amazing wonder.
That’s what she’d try to focus on tonight. That’s what would get her through. It had to.
At least she looked all right. They usually dressed up for Christmas Eve, just to make things festive. Ursa had chosen a dress with an emerald green, knee-length, taffeta skirt and a lighter green top made of intricate fitted lace that hugged her torso and breasts like a second skin. The color accented her eyes and complexion. She supposed it was her anxious excitement about seeing Z tonight that made her cheeks and lips appear pinker than usual, and her eyes especially shiny.
She started at the knock on her door.
“Oh my, you look stunning,” her mother exclaimed when Ursa rushed to open the door.
“Thank you. So do you,” Ursa said sincerely. Her mom looked amazing in a full-length, off-the-shoulder red dress, her long mane of hair spilling in loose curls down her arms and back. Ursa heard the sound of heels on the wood floor and stepped out into the hallway. Sadie and Esme walked toward them, Esme glowing in a gorgeous gold lamé dress that draped and hugged her lithesome figure to amazing effect, and Sadie, sublime in an off the shoulder white chiffon gown.
“Look at us,” Esme said, twitching her shoulders and grinning. “We look ready for the red carpet at one of Sadie’s opening nights. Merry Christmas,” she said, kissing Ursa, and then her mother on the cheek.
“Merry Christmas,” Sadie and Ursa said together, all of them exchanging kisses.
“Stephen texted a minute ago and said that he, Grandpa Joe, and the boys are on their way, so we better go down,” Ilsa said. Ursa realized in that moment that her mother seemed just as breathlessly excited to see Stephen as Ursa was to see Z.
However, she doubted her mother had the degree of dread and anxiety that Ursa experienced mixing with her anticipation as they all descended down the wooden staircase that Christmas Eve. Her heart jumped uncomfortably in her chest at the sound of a firm knock on the front door. Ilsa hurried ahead of them.
A few seconds later, Stephen, Grandpa Joe, Jude and Z all trooped into the great hall. Esme paused at the bottom of the stairs, so Ursa came to a halt next to her.
She saw nothing but Z.
He’d shaved off his beard. He looked strange to her, different…but wonderful…older somehow. Harder. Wiser. His eyes gleamed in his rugged face as he handed his coat to her mom. He wore jeans, an ivory button down shirt, and a handsome black blazer that was fitted perfectly to his cut, trim torso and powerful chest and shoulders.
His gaze swept over her warmly.
Ursa’s stomach dipped when she took in the way he stared at her. She recognized that look. Hungry. Wanting. But there was a difference tonight, Ursa realized. His possessive stare was there for all to see. He wasn’t guarding against his desire for her.
The reason he wants to talk tonight isn’t because he wants to break up.
You don’t know that, she immediately warned herself when she experienced that internal leap of excitement. Even if he intends one thing tonight, he might change his mind, once he finds out I’m pregnant.
That’s about four steps up on the commitment scale.
Does that mean I’m going to tell him tonight?
The last thought startled her. She hadn’t been planning on telling him tonight. Her plans for breaking the news were vague and unformed, similar to how she felt about being pregnant. But looking into Z’s electric blue eyes as he slowly came toward her, it suddenly struck her as shockingly big and real and possible. All of it. The baby. Z.
Us.
Ursa realized that everyone was hugging and wishing each other Merry Christmas, but she still stood on the bottom step of the staircase. Everyone started walking to the living room, where Ilsa was serving drinks—everyone but Z and her. He’d come to a halt in the center of the great hall, his gaze stuck to her. After a moment, everyone’s chatting became muffled and distant.
Silence hung thick around them. He walked toward her, the sound of his boots striking the slate stone flooring and her heartbeat hammering in her ears. He halted in front of her.
“You look amazing,” he said, his gaze sinking down over her yet again.
“Thank you. So do you.” It felt like a pressure was building in her, like a fever was mounting.
“I’m sorry I was so…odd the other day in my room,” she said.
“I think we’ve both been doing our share of behaving strangely lately.”
She laughed softly when she saw his small, wry smile. His gaze on her remained warm. Hopeful?
“I know everyone thought I went away because I was running,” he said. “But I wasn’t. I just needed to check on things with the business. And to think a little.”
“Get some space?”
“Yeah. It didn’t work very well, though.”
“It didn’t?”
He shook his head slowly. “All I could think about what you. All I could think about was how much I miss you. That’s the way it is, I guess. When you’re away from someone you love.”
Esme laughed somewhere in the distance. Ursa barely heard it through the dull roar in her ears.
“You love me?” she asked him shakily.
He nodded. “I think I have for a long time. Hell, maybe I always have, Ursa.” He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I don’t have a lot of experience with this stuff, so I didn’t know what it meant at first: the fact that I can’t get your face out of my head, or that I crave your smiles…or that I apparently have lost the ability to sleep without you near me. Did you know, that during that time period when we had broken up, I drove over to Reno a few nights a week and fell asleep in my car in your parking lot?”
She gasped in surprise. “You did?”
“Yeah. Pretty lame, I know,” he said under his breath. “It worked, though. Just seeing your shadow once in a while through the curtains reassured me. I should have known then. I should have told you sooner what you meant to me.”
Ursa’s eyes burned. “You were just figuring it out yourself,” she said through a tight throat.
He surged toward her, as if a spring had been released in him. Then his arms were around her, his large hands spread wide along her waist and back. His mouth closed over hers.
She was submerged in him, swimming in a sea of desire and acceptance.
Of love.
“I love you,” she said shakily against his mouth a stretched minute later.
“I love you, too,” he replied gruffly, nipping at her mouth, his hands molding her body possessively. He leaned back slightly. “It feels good. Saying that.”
A tremor of intense, violent emotion went through her at his words. His smile fractured.
“Ursa? What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows slanting in concern. His hands tightened on her. “You’re shaking, baby girl.”
“I’m fine,” she said hastily. “I’m just happy.”
He peered down at her, frowning slightly. She felt naked beneath his searching stare.
“No…there’s something. What is it?”
She laughed raggedly. “What are you, a mind reader or something?” she asked nervously. She cupped his jaw, running her fingertips against his freshly shaven skin. “You got rid of your beard,” she murmured. “I like it. You always look so handsome, no matter what you do.”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” he warned before he leaned down and nipped at her lips. She sighed in satisfaction when he deepened the kiss.
“That’s changing the subject,” she murmured when he lifted his head a moment later and regarded her with a smoky stare.
“
I can’t wait to get you alone later.”
“Why? What are you going to do to me?” she asked him huskily.
“A few things.”
She raised her eyebrows and moved her body against him suggestively. “Such as?”
He lowered his hands to her hips and rubbed her boldly. Ursa felt him harden against her. “One decent thing. And then a lot of indecent things.”
“I can’t wait,” she told him, a smile pulling at her lips. “But unless you feel like breaking the news to everyone tonight about us, I suggest we put a stop to this.” She circled her pelvis against his growing erection before she reluctantly started to move away. He held her firmly in place against him.
“I’m also going to get you to tell me,” he said.
“Tell you what?” she asked, startled by his grim certainty.
“Whatever secret I see in your eyes. Is it bad news?” he asked, completely somber now.
“No…I mean…I don’t know what you mean.”
He cupped her bottom with one hand before releasing her. He stepped back.
“You go ahead. I’ll be in after a second or two. I just need to…” He glanced down at his crotch. “Cool off a little,” he finished, frowning.
She smiled. “Okay.” She started to walk toward the living room.
“Ursa.”
She turned back to him expectantly.
“You really do look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you,” she whispered tremulously.
Ilsa’s Christmas Eve buffet was as decadently delicious as ever, and everyone seemed in especially good spirits. Z suspected they all wanted to make up for their less than enthusiastic reception of Stephen and Ilsa’s news, himself maybe more than any of them. They talked about arrangements for tomorrow’s ceremony: Grandpa Joe would give away the bride; Z, Jude and Mat would stand up for Stephen; and Ursa, Esme and Sadie would stand up for their mother.
But Z had never found himself wishing more that the Christmas Eve festivities were all over and done with it. Ursa sat across the table and two seats down from him. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She was by far the most desirable, appetizing thing at the table. He wanted to touch her. But it was like she was being dangled just out of his reach.
Now that Mat, Esme, Jude, and Sadie had searched for and found him in Columbia, the secret was out about his businesses. After they’d discussed the wedding tomorrow, everyone had questions for him about his new venture. He found it, weirdly, both mortifying giving them details of his success, and gratifying. Every time his discomfort would overcome him, he’d look up and see Ursa watching him, her gaze full of quiet pride and love.
And somehow, everything would feel okay again.
Still, it was hard to focus on family minutia and chitchat. All he could think of was the ring sitting in his bedside table at the Lodge. All he could think of was getting Ursa alone there, and giving it to her. He still wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say…how he was going to ask her to spend her life with him, to share all the little boring, mundane details of everyday existence, the joys, the sorrows…all of it. He only knew that he was anxious as hell about it, but he was also crazy with anticipation.
He was so distracted by the idea, so mesmerized by staring at Ursa wearing that elegant, but also outrageously sexy dress that outlined every voluptuous curve and graceful, taut line of her torso, he barely was able to focus when Grandpa Joe said he had an announcement.
Joe proceeded to tell them that Stephen and Ilsa had decided to live in Ilsa’s house after they married, and had invited Joe to live with them. Grandpa Joe went on to say that he was gifting the Lodge to Stephen, Jude and Z, to sell or keep as they chose.
Z didn’t think it was a good idea. He was in complete agreement with Jude that any proceeds that came from a sale of the Lodge should go to a fund for their grandfather’s care. Joe, however, had his own ideas about how he wanted to handle his affairs. He wouldn’t argue about it at Christmas Eve dinner. Z, Jude, and Stephen would just have to confront Joe about the wisdom and necessity of his decision at another time.
After dinner, they all retired to the family room to open some gifts and play games. Z didn’t think he was going to survive hours more of this festive family camaraderie, though. How could he get Ursa away from the crowd?
He was relieved when he heard the sound of distant singing. Everyone stood and herded into the great hall to listen to Christmas carolers, another regular tradition.
He endured the caroling—barely—staring at Ursa’s profile with a growing sense of anxious anticipation. When the carolers sung their last note, she turned and met his stare. Her cheeks and lips were flushed, and her light green eyes shone with the same kind of heat and desperation he knew must be emanating off him at the moment.
When Ilsa invited the carolers into the great hall for wassail and cookies, he decided it was his moment to make a move. Ursa had moved to the outskirts of the crowded hall, as if she’d known he was coming for her. He came up behind her and placed his hand on her waist, urging her toward the front door.
“It’s warm in here,” he murmured near her ear. “Let’s go outside.”
“Where are we going?” she asked him seconds later as he hurried her down the Esterbrook drive.
“To the Lodge,” he said, pausing to take off his jacket and drape it around her shoulders. He put his arm around her and crushed her up against him to keep her warm.
“Z…be careful. There’s Jude and Esme,” she whispered.
He glanced back to where she was staring over her shoulder with an anxious expression. He saw the outline of his brother and Esme headed in the opposite direction from them, their bodies pressed close together.
“Who cares?” he muttered, pulling Ursa tighter against him. “They’re not looking anywhere but at each other, anyway.”
Ursa looked startled. “You don’t think…those two?”
He shrugged. “It’s our families. Anything could happen. Who knows better than us?”
Her soft laughter in the darkness sent a shiver through him. “Come on. The Lodge will be empty. There’s something I need to say to you in private.”
Her amusement faded at that. By the time they’d entered the Lodge and climbed up the stairs, she looked downright sober. He didn’t know what to make of her trepidation. Did she guess his intentions? If so, he worried her somberness didn’t bode well for him.
“So…this is your bedroom?” she asked him once he’d turned on the light and shut the door after them. She stood in the middle of the bedroom and spun in a circle, apparently fascinated by the ancient football and snow board awards and memorabilia displayed on the walls, along with photos of old bikes he’d built with Stephen when he was a teenager.
“No. This was my room when I was a kid. You’ve been in my bedroom. You know what it’s like.”
She met his stare, a moment of sensual awareness leaping between them like a spark. Yeah. She remembers my bedroom as well as I do, along with everything we’ve done it.
He cleared this throat, acutely aware that now wasn’t the time to be lusting after her. Even though he was. He couldn’t seem to help it. He hadn’t seen her in days, or touched her in any truly gratifying way in much longer than that.
But as she stood there, looking like something out of a fantasy in that green dress, he suddenly wondered if she was as out of reach as ever.
Her expression grew serious again. Sad?
“What is it, Z?” she asked, taking a step toward him, even though she appeared cautious at that moment…like she was wondering if she should take a step back, instead, or run out of the room. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Come here,” he said, stepping toward her and taking one hand. He led her over to the bed. They both sat on the edge of it. He took both of her hands in his and opened his mouth to spea
k. He absorbed her expression.
“Ursa? Why do you look scared?”
Her elegant throat convulsed as she swallowed. “Do I?” she asked in a high- pitched voice.
“Yeah. Either that, or worried. It’s something,” he stated bluntly, frowning. “Are you still mad at me? For what I said when Stephen and your mom announced their engagement?”
She shook her head. “They seem to have forgiven you. I don’t know why I’d hold a grudge about it.”
“Because like you said…you think I was reacting to our situation that night as much as I was Stephen and Ilsa’s,” he reminded her. He experienced a sinking feeling when he saw her uncertainty as she looked up him. He squeezed her hands tighter in his. “You know, part of me is always going to feel like the mechanic who happened to get the local princess to notice him.”
“Part of me is always going to feel like the invisible girl who turned the head of the cool guy one day.”
He lifted her hands and kissed her fingers. “That’s funny. You burn in my eyes, baby girl. You’re about as invisible as an inferno.”
“Z,” she said softly, and while her lips were parted saying his name, he captured her mouth with his, sending his tongue inside to taste her. He couldn’t help himself.
When her taste and texture penetrated into his awareness, he groaned and drew her closer, his kiss growing hungrier by the second. Impatiently, he tossed aside the jacket he’d draped over her shoulders. His hands molded her taut, lace-covered torso, pulling her against him so he could feel her full, firm breasts against his ribs.
“Sorry,” he breathed out against her mouth a moment later. “I’ve missed you. It seems like forever since we’ve—”
“I know,” she gasped, sending her fingers through his hair. He ground his teeth together at the sensation of her scraping her nails against his scalp.
“But I need to do something first,” he said, nuzzling her nose with his and inhaling her scent. Unable to stop himself, he plucked greedily at her pink, parted lips.
“What, Z? What is it that you want to talk to me about?” she asked tensely. He did a double take.
Wild, Wounded Hearts Page 31