His Wife for a While (15 page)

And the nights!

The nights had been filled with physical pleasures beyond her wildest dreams. As a lover, Ben was extremely generous. Each night, he revealed a new secret about her body that she hadn't known existed… which areas of her flesh were ticklish, which craved to be touched. He seemed to delight in the knowledge that they were discovering her sexuality together.

During one instance when her inexperience had impelled her to become timid, Ben had calmed her fears and assured her that pleasure should be part of their sexual encounter. He'd patiently explained his desire for her to remember her baby's conception as a happy and satisfying event.
Chelsea
grinned, remembering the lascivious smile that had curled his lips when he'd realized his description held a double-edged meaning. Because satisfied truly described how she felt after a night in Ben's arms.

He made her feel more feminine than a woman had any right to feel. After they made love… she'd tried hard not to use that term to describe what they did together, but there was no other description that fit…
Chelsea
wanted to stretch like a satiated feline, then curl contentedly and fall asleep tucked in his embrace. But she hadn't let herself.

Absently,
Chelsea
reached around and rubbed the dull ache in the small of her back.

No, she'd been very careful to get out of Ben's bed and go to her own room. Night after night, she would slip between the cool, empty sheets of her lonely bed and spend hours trying to fall asleep.

That first night he had asked her to stay with him. But she'd insisted on sleeping in her own room. She knew very well that she did so in order to protect herself. It would be very easy to fall prey to the sensuous gratification she'd found in Ben's arms.

The real and only reason they were together was a constant thought in her mind. They had sex each night so she would become pregnant; there was nothing more to their lovemaking than that. But she was still amazed by what all this pure hedonistic pleasure did to her emotions. As the days passed, her once rock-hard heart had become a soft and mushy place inside her. She marveled at the fact that this experience with Ben affected the way she saw the world.

Flowers looked more beautiful, trees appeared greener, the sky clearer, bluer, the clouds puffier. What frightened her the most was the fact that Ben had come to mean something more than he had before.

When she'd gone into this whole marriage deal, Ben had meant a father for her child… that and nothing more. But now...

She let the thought trail into oblivion, pushed it away, actually, too afraid to plant the seed, afraid the idea might sprout and grow. But despite the pushing and avoiding, the idea grew nevertheless.

Are you in love with Ben?

The silent question floated through her mind, freezing icicles of fear inside her. Loving someone meant handing them the opportunity to cause her pain. She knew that. Her battered heart had experienced enough of it, and she was determined never to become susceptible again.

You are not in love with Ben Danvers
, she sternly answered the question. What she felt was lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.
That
she could allow herself to feel. Lust was safe. Lust was controllable. Lust could be walked away from when the time came. She'd simply have to learn to ignore the emptiness that particular four-letter word left in the pit of her stomach.

The knock on her door made her screeching thoughts scatter.

"Come in," she called.

A chuckling May pushed into the office.

"I just had to share this with someone." There was awe in May's voice, and she brandished a tabloid newspaper as if it were a proclamation from the president himself. "Ready?" she asked, then continued without waiting for
Chelsea
's reply, "'
Baby Born with Gold-capped Tooth.
'"

Chelsea
's brows pulled into a slight frown. "But, May, babies are born toothless."

"Not this one," May replied emphatically. "This article tells about a baby who was born with a full set of thirty-two teeth. And not only that, but one of those teeth was covered with a twenty-four-karat gold cap."

Chelsea
forced herself not to smile at May's apparent gullibility.

"Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you read," she gently suggested. "I mean, have you ever known anyone in Kemblesville to give birth to a baby who already had a full set of teeth?"

May looked at her a moment, her eyes glassy as she thought about the question.

Finally, the older woman said, "Well, now that you mention it, no, I haven't. But I read an article in the paper about a woman who accidentally swallowed a penny while she was pregnant, and when the baby was born it was clutching a penny in its fist."

Chelsea
couldn't hold back her laughter this time. "Oh, May, I'm afraid you're hopelessly trusting."

"Oh, speaking of trusting," May said, "I wanted to let you know that a lady from the nature center came and released the owl."

Nodding,
Chelsea
said, "I know that they kept the little fellow for a couple of days. His feathers had to be cleaned. But he was okay."

"Do you think he might have trouble with my chimney again?"

"He shouldn't,"
Chelsea
said. "Owls are pretty smart."

"I worried that maybe he should have been taken somewhere else and let go." May raised one shoulder. "Maybe deeper into the woods or something?"

"Most likely he lives in a tree near your house,"
Chelsea
explained. "It's the center's policy to release wild animals as close as possible to the place they were found." Suddenly, she inhaled slowly and rubbed at her cramping stomach.

"Are you okay?" May asked.

"Actually, I'm not feeling very well."
Chelsea
smoothed her fingers across her forehead. "I have a headache and my stomach hurts a little. Not to mention my back."

"Why don't you go on home?" May suggested. "I'm sure you don't have anything to do that can't wait until tomorrow. Go home and lie down. I'll answer your phone."

Chelsea
nodded. "I think I'll take you up on your offer."

When she walked into Ben's house, she felt worse than ever. Her skin tingled all over and there was a tension in her stomach she couldn't define. Her head pounded and she wondered if she was coming down with some sort of flu.

She passed by her bedroom door, knowing perfectly well she should have gone in there to lie down. But something seemed to pull her toward Ben's room, and she crawled across his big, soft mattress and tried to relax.

The scent of Ben's aftershave clung to his pillow and she hugged it to her. She felt so achy all over, she didn't want to think about why the smell of him gave her such comfort or why being in his bed made her feel so close to him in his absence.

Why did she yearn for him simply because she felt ill? It was silly. Her brain just wasn't working right because of this bug or whatever that was wrong with her.

Questions danced at the edges of her mind, poking, prodding, making her head ache all the more. What would Ben think if he came home and found her in his bed? How would he react to the sight of her clutching his pillow to her aching abdomen?

I'll get up in a minute
, she promised herself.
I'll get up and go into my own room in just one moment
.

~  ~  ~

"
Chelsea
?"

Ben softly closed the front door behind him. Aunt May had told him
Chelsea
had gone home earlier in the day because she hadn't felt well. He'd left the paperwork undone on his desk, the planned phone calls unmade, in order to answer an undeniable urge to check on her.

The setting sun cast gray shadows in the house. Ben walked on light feet down the hall, so as not to disturb
Chelsea
if she were sleeping.

He peered around the corner of her bedroom door and frowned when he saw the empty bed. The six-inch crack left by the partially open door of his bedroom revealed
Chelsea
sleeping on the bed, her knees drawn up toward her chest.

A worried crease gathered between his eyes. She must have been terribly sick to have gotten into the wrong bed.
Chelsea
was very adamant about sleeping in her own room… so adamant, in fact, that he'd felt a bit affronted at first.

Meaning to go to her to check for fever, Ben pushed open the door of the room. The hinges creaked and
Chelsea
stirred.

"It's okay," he assured her.

"What time is it?" she asked, sitting up and sliding to the edge of the bed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay," he repeated. "I'm sorry I woke you. Don't get up. I only came to check on you."

"I have to get up," she insisted. "I need to use the bathroom."

As she brushed past him, he reached out and touched her arm. He felt relieved that her skin didn't feel feverish.

Standing outside the closed bathroom door, he heard the toilet flush, the water run, and then he thought he heard her crying.

He knocked on the door. "
Chelsea
?"

When there was no answer, he knocked again. "Let me in, Chels."

She opened the door, and even in the darkened hallway he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

"What is it? What's wrong? Are you sick?"

His anxiety over her obvious distress made him ask his questions one on top of the other, giving her no time to answer.

Her bottom lip trembled and he grasped her upper arms.

"Please, Chels, tell me."

"I'm not pregnant."

It only took him the span of one heartbeat to figure out what her simple, whispered statement meant. She'd started her menstruation cycle and she was disappointed that she hadn't conceived a child.

He didn't say anything. He only took her in his arms and held her to him tightly.

For some odd, unexplainable reason, he felt the smallest bit of pleasure that she hadn't yet become pregnant. But he hadn't time to even think about why before he was overwhelmed with a monstrous sense of guilt.

"I can't believe I feel so…" she cried softly against his shoulder "…let down."

"I understand," he said.

"I feel awful. All crampy and my back hurts."

Running his hand down the length of her arms, he suggested, "Why don't you take a quick shower and change into something comfortable?"

She nodded and went back into the bathroom.

He heard the water running as he fixed them a quick sandwich and a simple salad.

By the time she padded out to the kitchen, her freshly washed hair braided down her back, he had set the table and was just placing food on the plates.