Borrowed Bride Page 10

  Connor felt his blood temperature plummet so low it was inevitable that the sudden iciness would spill over into his voice, as well. “Of course. Good old Adam.”

  “I know you have your suspicions about him, Connor, but I have to tell you he was wonderful to Toby and me when we really needed him.”

  He smiled tightly, his soul feeling like a dart board.

  “He never left my side when Toby was in the operating room and he handled all the hospital forms and bills so I didn’t even have to look at them. And later, after Toby was allowed to come home, he spent hours at our place entertaining him, playing checkers and the Batman game and anything else Toby wanted to play.”

  The softness of her expression made Connor feel like punching Adam Ressler right in the jaw. “Like I said, good old Adam.”

  “I owe him a lot, Connor.”

  “Is that why you agreed to marry him? To pay him back for playing checkers with the kid?”

  “I resent that,” she snapped. As always there was no trace of that sweet-hearted softness in the look she aimed at him.

  “You ought to,” he drawled. “It’s a hell of a lousy reason to marry someone.”

  “That is not the reason I’m marrying Adam.”

  “Then what is?”

  “There are several. Not that it’s any of your business. It so happens that I do think he’s an excellent role model for Toby, and there’s the restaurant to consider, and the fact that we get along beautifully. We always have.” Her mouth curled. “Unlike you and me.”

  “You forgot to say you loved him.”

  “Did I?” She shrugged.

  “Go on, Gaby, say it. Tell me that you’re in love with Adam Ressler.”

  “I...”

  He watched her chest rise and fall as she drew a deep breath. Her eyes glinted with resentment.

  “Say it, Gaby.”

  “I... Love will come,” she insisted. “For now we share other things just as important to a good marriage as love. Things like friendship and respect and something you wouldn’t understand, a mutual concern for our future and Toby’s.”

  “A mutual concern for your future, huh? That sounds more like a merger than a marriage to me.”

  “I told you that you wouldn’t understand.”

  “So enlighten me,” he urged, arching back into the seat, his long legs stretched in front of him. “Better yet, tell me this, does Adam know about the friendship-mutual-respect angle of the deal?”

  “Of course,” she replied, clearly indignant. “We’ve discussed the matter openly, like two mature adults—another concept beyond your understanding, I’m sure—and we’ve agreed that we have ample foundation for a sound marriage and that in time we can learn to love one another.”

  “Gosh, that sounds romantic.”

  “Maybe I’m not looking for romance.”

  “What are you looking for, Gaby?”

  “Safety, security, a decent future for my son,” she replied without hesitation. She crossed her arms in front of her, a defensive move if he’d ever seen one, Connor thought with satisfaction. “And companionship. Adam is a kind, decent man, who—I might add—is no doubt worried sick about me right this very minute.”

  “Well, hallelujah,” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and grinning. He glanced at his watch. “Just over twenty-four hours. That’s got to be some sort of record.”

  “Record for what?” She eyed him suspiciously. “What on earth are you ranting about now?”

  “About the fact that it took you that long to express some concern for your poor, worried intended.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that all afternoon yesterday you carried on about Toby and your family and the guests invited to the wedding, but this is the first time you actually mentioned feeling any concern for Adam or the fact that he might be worried about you, as well.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I mentioned...” She stopped, her brows lowering thoughtfully. “I just assumed that you would assume that... Oh, stop giving me that look.”

  “What look?” he asked, still grinning.

  “That stupid gloating look. For your information, this isn’t high school. How many times I mention his name in a day isn’t any indication of my feelings for Adam.”

  “Of course not,” he agreed. “So how about sex?”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Sex. I asked about sex.”

  “Are you asking about sex between Adam and me?”

  “If you’re willing to answer, then I’m definitely asking. But I was actually referring to the fact that you ticked off a whole long list of things you’re looking for in this marriage, and sex wasn’t on it. So I can’t help wondering...”

  She scowled at him, evidently hoping to scare him off with the silent threat of her everlasting wrath. Obviously, he thought, she didn’t remember him nearly as well as she claimed.

  “I can’t help wondering,” he said again, sliding forward in his chair until his knees bracketed hers, “if Adam can make you shiver on a hot day just by bringing his mouth real close to yours. Like this.”

  Chapter 6

  “Stop,” Gaby ordered.

  “Stop what? I’m not doing anything. Yet.”

  Connor was whispering, leaning forward so that his mouth hovered barely an inch from hers. As she’d backed away from him, he had moved in on her, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair for support. Now, with her body already pressed to the back of her chair, she had nowhere to go.

  “This isn’t funny,” she told him.

  He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them on the chair behind him. “No, it isn’t. Better be careful, Gaby, we’re beginning to see eye to eye on things.”

  “For God’s sake, Connor...” She put her hands on his arms to push him away.

  “Why don’t you answer my question?” he asked, refusing to be pushed.

  She made an exasperated sound. “What question?”

  “Can Adam make you shiver on a hot day the way I can?”

  “You can’t make...”

  Even as she spoke, he brought his mouth a fraction of an inch closer to hers and let his breath warm her lips. Her eyelids fluttered shut, concealing the confusion behind them, but there was no hiding the tiny goose bumps that erupted on the smooth flesh of her shoulders and arms. Her protest remained unfinished.

  “I can,” he said with quiet satisfaction.

  “Don’t.”

  “I want to kiss you, Gaby,” he told her, his whisper growing hoarse and urgent. He hadn’t expected her to smell so good or feel so soft, and the combination was causing what had started out as teasing to spin out of his control. “Just like I wanted to kiss you the last time we were here alone like this. Do you remember that day?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

  He chuckled. “Liar.”

  Her chin came up fiercely, causing their mouths to bump. Immediately she jerked away, but the defiance remained in her voice. “What’s the matter, Wolf?” she asked. “Did I bruise your ego?”

  He laughed again at the scalding inflection she gave to his old nickname.

  “Does it irk you to think that not every woman who meets you finds you unforgettable?” she taunted.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I don’t much give a damn about every woman I meet. But it does bother the hell out of me that you don’t remember that day when the memory of it has cost me a few sleepless nights in the years since.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, signaling that his words had struck their mark.

  “So, seeing as how you don’t remember that day and I do, and in great detail,” he added, “I guess I’ll just have to refresh your memory for you.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “No bother at all,” he assured her, pulling back just enough so that he could watch her face as he spoke. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the week we all planned to spend together up here. It was before Toby was
born, so it must have been at least six or seven years ago. We spent a lot of time together back then. You and Joel, Adam and... what was her name?”

  She stared at him in silence.

  Connor shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You might recall that my date canceled out at the last minute. It wasn’t a big disappointment except for the fact that I’d really been looking forward to the week up here and I didn’t want to come alone and be a fifth wheel. Would you like to know why I was looking forward to that week so much?” he asked her.

  “No,” she replied.

  “I’ll tell you anyway. It was because of you, Gaby. I was looking forward to being around you for a week.”

  “Now who’s lying?” she retorted. “Admit it, Connor, you’ve always barely tolerated me and for the same reason I barely tolerated you. For Joel’s sake.”

  He shook his head, a self-mocking smile on his lips. “No, I’m afraid tolerate isn’t quite the right word to describe how I felt about you. Oh, I won’t deny that you rubbed me in about a dozen wrong ways right from the moment we met, but for some insane reason that never affected all the other feelings I had for you. Tolerated? No. Fascinated. Now, there’s a much better word to describe what I felt.”

  She shifted in the chair, making a move to stand, but Connor held his ground.

  “I’m not finished.”

  “Well, I am. I don’t think I want to hear any more of this,” she told him.

  “That’s too bad, because all of a sudden I want you to hear it. I want you to know how I felt now, even if you really didn’t know back then.”

  Their gazes locked in silent warfare. Had she shared something of what he’d felt that long-ago day? Connor wondered. Or had he simply wanted to believe that she had? Whatever she might have felt, along with whatever she remembered of that day, was locked behind the stare of pure blue ice she was training on him right now. Connor refused to back off. He wasn’t sure why unlocking the truth mattered so much to him. Only that it did.

  “Around about Thursday of that week I finally decided that fifth wheel or not, I was coming up for a few days. It was a day a lot like today. Hot. Muggy. The air heavy and full of the smell of the trees all around.” He shifted his weight so he was squatting in front of her, his outstretched arms still barring her escape.

  “When I got here the cabin was empty. You were all off fishing further upstream,” he continued, indicating the path of the stream that fed the lake. “I went for a swim, had a few beers.”

  He chuckled as Gaby rolled her eyes smugly.

  “Like I said,” he went on, “it was a day a lot like today. I sat out here on the deck to wait, and the next thing I knew I saw you coming through the woods, right over there.”

  He pointed to the spot, but Gaby refused to turn her head to look.

  “You were wearing cutoff denim shorts and a flimsy white top that let me see a little of your skin and your bra when the sun hit it just right.” He half smiled, wondering if he should tell her how, when he went shopping for her a couple of days ago, he had searched hard for a bra that reminded him of the one she’d been wearing that day.

  “So .you’re a voyeur along with everything else,” she said, lifting one slender shoulder in an elegant shrug. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

  He decided against mentioning his shopping excursion.

  “No?” he countered. “This might. I took one look at you that day and my blood started rushing. Just like it always did when I saw you. I felt the way I always felt when you walked into a room, excited and like a bastard at the same time. Happy and guilty, always the two together, all mixed up inside of me in a knot. You belonged to Joel, and Joel was the best friend I ever had. Hell, he was more like a brother than my own brothers. I knew without any doubt that you were way off-limits, I just never knew what I was supposed to do with all those feelings I couldn’t stop myself from feeling.”

  She was silent, her gaze averted, her jaw rigid. Good thing he didn’t put much stock in body language, Connor thought, or he’d just slink off into the woods and shoot himself right then and there.

  “When I saw that you were alone, I was...” He paused, grasping for words to express the feeling. His mouth curving grimly, he finally settled on “Euphoric. Then I realized you were hurt.”

  “I cut my toe,” she said quietly, still not looking at him. “I thought I was getting too much sun so I decided to come back to the cabin ahead of the others and I cut my toe on a rock on the way. I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

  “You mean you didn’t expect me to be here. I’m sure if you had, you never would have come back alone.”

  She met his gaze. “That’s right.”

  “As it turned out, you were lucky I was here. It was me who patched you up that day.”

  “True, but at least I didn’t need stitches.”

  “No, just a shot of whiskey.”

  “Which you poured on my toe,” she continued, almost giving in to the smile that threatened to form on her lips.

  “To sterilize it,” he reminded her. “You said you didn’t want it to become infected.”

  “I didn’t. But I never expected you to pour whiskey on my toes or to...”

  She stopped, memories and secrets moving in a heated swirl behind her shuttered gaze. Connor’s heart lifted in his chest.

  “Kiss it better?” he prompted, his words rough and raspy as he moved closer and slid his hand down her leg to caress her bare foot.

  “That was just a joke.”

  “Not to me.”

  He lifted her foot to his mouth and kissed her toe the way he had that afternoon years ago. His mouth was slow and warm and wet. And just as she had back then, Gaby gasped and stiffened but didn’t pull away. He smiled at her, running the thumb of his uninjured hand back and forth along her instep. “I wanted to kiss you that day, Gaby. I wanted it real bad. I still do.”

  She took an uneasy breath, her brow furrowed. “Please, Connor... what do you expect me to say to that?”

  “The ‘Please, Connor’ part was a good start,” he replied, moving up so he was leaning over her once again. “Try saying...‘ Please, Connor, kiss me.’”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “That’s what you said to me the last time. The difference is that you were right back then. You couldn’t. God knows I shouldn’t have even tried.” He shook his head, remembering. “Afterwards I tried to shake it off by blaming it on the beer or temporary insanity and I swore it would never, ever happen again.”

  “Nothing happened that day, either.”

  “Right. Technically nothing did happen. Just the same, ever since that day I’ve carried the scars on my conscience to remind me of what a bastard I can be.” He put his hand against her cheek, the smoothness of her skin sending a ripple of pleasure through him. “Back then there was a reason to stop. Joel.”

  “There’s still a reason,” she insisted, nervousness in her tone. “Adam.”

  “I don’t give a damn about Adam,” he growled.

  “But I do,” she said. “I’m supposed to marry the man ... I would be married to him right now if it weren’t for you.”

  “That marriage is never going to happen,” he told her with utter conviction. “I’m right about Adam. I know I am. Adam is not a reason for us to stop.”

  “All right, have it your way. Leave Adam out of it. But you can’t just forget about Joel. Neither of us can,” she said frantically just as his mouth lowered to slant across hers.

  Connor froze, then pulled back. “Gaby, Joel isn’t here. I wish to hell he was, but he’s not. He’s gone.”

  “He’s still between us,” she insisted. “He always will be.”

  Running his hand through his hair, he lowered his weight to one knee, his somber expression gentle. “He’ll always be with us, I believe that, but I also believe that Joel would want you to go on living, Gaby. He’d want you to be happy.”

  “What Joel would want,” she said, taking advantage o
f his relaxed position to leap from the chair and push past him before whirling around to face him, “is for me to put his son’s welfare ahead of everything else. I can do that by marrying someone who’ll protect him and set a good example for him, someone decent—”

  “Like Adam?” Connor interrupted angrily.

  “Yes, someone like Adam. Joel certainly wouldn’t want me to get mixed up with a man I wouldn’t trust to baby-sit my cat for a weekend...a man who once made a play for me behind his back, for heaven’s sake.”

  Gaby spun toward the door to the cabin, but not before she saw Connor recoil as if she’d lashed out at him with a spiked whip rather than simply the first words that flashed to mind. She made it to the door and yanked it open before her sense of decency and fair play grabbed her and jerked her to a halt.

  Pausing with the door still open, she allowed the rapidly building wave of second thoughts to crash over her, waiting for them to sweep past before she tried to swim back to the surface. She’d gone and done it again. She’d let Connor get to her, let him trap her inside a storm of her own emotions, emotions she didn’t want to feel and couldn’t understand. And once again she’d reacted by blurting out nasty, hurtful things she would never ordinarily say to another human being. Two days alone with the man and she was turning into someone she didn’t even know.

  He’d provoked her, to be sure. Once again, however, she couldn’t ignore her sense that all his many faults didn’t justify what she’d said to him. As much as it pained her to admit that to herself, much less Connor, she’d be damned if she’d slink off and spend more hours cooped up alone in her room with a guilty conscience.

  Drawing a deep breath, she let go of the door and turned back to face him. He’d reclaimed his seat, his feet once more propped up on the empty chair, his face tilted up to the sun.

  “Look,” she said, coming to a halt a few away from him. “I’m sorry. That was a rotten thing for me to say.”

  He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted at her as if she’d just woken him from a long nap. “What was?”

  “Knock it off, Connor. I shouldn’t have made that crack about not trusting you to baby-sit a cat and ... and about you making a play for me.”