His Wife for a While (6 page)

She cackled mischievously and started off toward her front door.

Ben watched, shaking his head at her remark, until his aunt was inside. As he drove toward home, he tried to focus on Aunt May's assurance that everything would work out fine. He hoped she was right about that. But her other prediction was dead wrong. He was certain he wouldn't enjoy himself.

Chapter Three

"We are gathered here…''

Chelsea
watched the clerk's lips as they formed the words of the wedding ceremony, but no sound seemed to emanate from them. All she could hear was the fierce pounding of her heart and the whoosh of blood rushing through her ears.

"To join this man and this woman…"

Radiant morning sunbeams streamed through the office window, predicting a bright future for this marriage. But how could that be,
Chelsea
wondered, when this union was not based on love? A deep, all-encompassing melancholy enveloped her, despite the fact that she knew she should be feeling happy, relieved even, to finally be so close to achieving her dream.

"The contract of marriage is a most solemn one…"

Casting a side-long glance at Ben, she marveled at how his blood-red tie stood out so vividly against the pristine whiteness of his shirt. His handsome face, tanned a healthy golden shade from spending his days outdoors, seemed devoid of emotion.

"Not to be entered into lightly…"

She turned her head and locked her gaze onto the plain wooden lectern separating Ben and her from the circuit-court clerk. She knew the apprehension and confusion churning through her was caused by a mixture of fatigue and second thoughts. Sleep had eluded her last night as she'd been bombarded by doubts.

"But thoughtfully and seriously…"

Had she been crazy to offer this deal to Ben? She was going to live with the man. Why, she was going to be intimate with him. Before last night, she'd refused to dwell for too long on the physical aspects involved between a man and woman that were necessary to procreate; the physical aspects, which she and Ben would perform. Alone. Together. Probably in his bed. Probably completely naked. In the dark. With a lot of touching.

Heat flushed her whole body and sweat prickled her underarms.

Well, how
else
would it happen?

"With a deep realization of its obligations…"

The dark wood paneling on the walls of the office absorbed the strong morning sunlight and warmed the air to a stifling degree.
Chelsea
felt claustrophobic and had to fight the urge to tug at the collar of her new cream-colored dress. She craved some fresh air and longed to be back in the wide-open spaces of the orchard.

"Anyone can show just cause why they should not be lawfully joined…"

The request seeped into her subconscious. Because we don't love each other, came her silent response. But then, she had known going into this marriage that Ben would never,
could
never, love her the way a husband should love a wife. But that wasn't his fault. However, the words tumbled through her head: How was she going to bring herself to sleep with a man who didn't love her?

"Let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

Before continuing with the ceremony, the clerk shot
Chelsea
a reassuring smile and
Chelsea
tried hard to return it, but her cheek muscles, seemingly numb, refused to obey her command.

"Ben Danvers, will you take Chelsea Carson for your lawful wife?"

"I will."

Chelsea
came alive at the sound of Ben's rich, steady voice. Her breath caught in her throat, and although she was certain the moment warranted it, she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Chelsea Carson, will you take Ben Danvers for your lawful husband?"

Her spine was so stiff, she felt as though it might shatter into a million pieces. You will do this, she silently demanded. If you want to conceive a child, then you
will
marry Ben. And after you become his wife, you
will
sleep with him. You
will
.

"Your response should be, 'I will,'" the clerk gently coached her.

Although it took every ounce of strength she had,
Chelsea
forced herself to look into Ben's eyes. "I will," she said, marveling at how even her voice sounded.

Ben's jaw clenched as he observed
Chelsea
's cool, composed demeanor. Nerves slammed in his gut like a jackhammer. Did she feel no emotion? Was she so coldhearted that she could pledge herself without batting an eye to a man for whom she felt nothing? How was it that this woman he was taking as his wife could be so dispassionate?

"Please join hands," the clerk instructed.

Ben felt the silken pads of
Chelsea
's fingertips slide across his calloused palm.

"To have and to hold," he repeated after the clerk, his voice rough with the anxiety churning inside him, "from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

He looked into
Chelsea
's eyes and remembered his aunt's description of "big, brown doe eyes" that would "melt any man's heart." He wondered if there was anything that could melt
Chelsea
's.

"To have and to hold…"

As he stood there, quietly listening to her repeat the marriage vow, Ben became aware of the subtle trembling of her fingers and a sense of confusion settled in his brow.

"From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health… until death do us part."

She actually whispered the last phrase and there was something in her tone that he couldn't quite read. Ben's frown deepened, but he hadn't time to think about the revelation fluttering at the edges of his brain before the clerk was signaling him to slide the thin gold band on the third finger of Chelsea's left hand.

"With this ring, I thee wed," he said.

Chelsea
slipped a matching gold band over his work-roughened knuckle. He'd told her that buying a ring for him wasn't necessary, but she'd been adamant about it, acting as if it were an iron shackle rather than a simple piece of jewelry.  

"With this ring, I thee wed." She repeated the words without raising her gaze from the shiny ring on his hand.

The two of them turned to face the clerk and were once again instructed to join hands.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Looking down at his wife's face, Ben felt nearly crushed with a sudden need to thank her, to somehow show this woman just how indebted he felt that she would give him so much.

"Thanks,
Chelsea
," he murmured. Realizing that words were inadequate, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Chelsea
jerked back a fraction, and her soft gasp brought cool air rushing across his still moist lips.

Averting her gaze, she replied, "You're welcome."

Her curt, icy tone was like a douse of cold water on the tender emotions he'd gotten too caught up in. He could have sworn just a moment earlier
Chelsea
had actually been feeling… had been feeling... What? he asked himself.

Curling his index finger under her chin, he tilted up her face so he could look into her eyes. The cool brown orbs stared at him with no trace of softness. All he saw was stoic composure.

He shook the clerk's hand, smiled and graciously accepted the congratulations of several employees of the court. He couldn't help noticing how his new wife didn't bother trying to hide the frown that knitted her brow. He shook his head. This day was turning out to be a seesaw of emotions.

"Come on," he finally told
Chelsea
. "Let's get out of here."

They went up the stairs and out into the parking lot in complete silence. Ben opened the passenger-side door for her and she got into his pickup. As he circled the truck, he watched her snap her seatbelt and then fold her arms across her chest.

He sighed heavily as he jabbed the key into the ignition. But before he started the engine, he turned to her.

"I really do want to thank you," he said.

He paused, wanting to say more, but in the end he didn't. Why waste words she obviously didn't want to hear?

The silence droned on until it turned awkward as hell. Just when he was sure she intended not to respond, she uncrossed her arms and looked him dead square in the eye.

"And I'll really thank you," she said, "when you fulfill your end of the deal."

He looked at her for several seconds, noticing that her fingertips were trembling as she fidgeted with the ring he'd placed on her finger. He nodded curtly, started the truck and headed for home.

~  ~  ~

Chelsea
placed her hairbrush and comb on the dresser of the small bedroom that, for a while at least, she'd call her own. After the civil ceremony this morning, she had assured Ben she didn't need help moving her few things into his home. Although he seemed reluctant, she finally persuaded him to go ahead with his work, and she told him they could meet at his house that evening for dinner.

So she had spent the previous hour or so hanging blouses and skirts in the closet, folding jeans, socks and underclothes and tucking them away in drawers.

Glancing first at her wristwatch and then out the window at the dusky sky, she decided Ben would be coming home soon and it was time to start supper. She wasn't much of a cook. She'd only had time to learn one or two recipes from Mama Higgins before…

Immediately, she squashed the memory. This wasn't a time for sadness. Happiness was the order of the day, and she would feel joy if it killed her.

But the giddy nerves in the pit of her stomach refused to stop their frenzied dancing. And the anxious questions wouldn't quit pestering her mind. How was she going to approach Ben about fulfilling his end of the deal? Would she even have to? Or would he "perform" without any prompting from her?

A hysterical giggle nearly escaped her.

Then she frowned. What if he didn't want to do "it" tonight? Or tomorrow night? What if...?

"Now, you're being downright silly," she said to her reflection in the mirror. Of course he'd want to do it.

From everything she'd ever read about men, they loved to do it. They lived to do it. Why, the television talk shows depicted men as extremely lustful. They had sex on their minds most of the time. In fact, from what she'd read in Cosmo, men thought about bumping uglies with women at least once every seven seconds. She was certain she wouldn't have any problem with Ben when it came to having sex.

But did she really have enough nerve to... to actually...? She couldn't even bring herself to think about what it was she and Ben were going to do. But she'd find the will to do it, nonetheless. Oh, yes she would.