The Baby Surprise (15 page)

She was surprised that he had to ask. “Because I've been a family-law attorney for half a dozen years and the idea of entering into a marriage without one seems both foolish and reckless.”

“It seems to me that making provision for what will happen in the event of a breakdown of the marriage doesn't imply much faith in the marriage.”

“The reality is that a large percentage of all marriages end in divorce, even though most couples believe—at least at the time they exchange vows—that their marriage will last forever.”

Zach looked as if he was going to say something else, but then he just shrugged. “Fine. You want a prenup, draft one up.”

“This is for your benefit as much as mine,” she told him. “So why do you seem angry?”

“Because this whole conversation just proves to me that whatever else is between us, we still don't have trust. And without trust, we don't have a hope in hell of making a marriage work.”

“I'd trust you with my life,” she told him and meant it. “And Emma's life, too.”

He tossed back the rest of his wine and stood up. “Just not with your money.”

She frowned. “Is that what you think this is about?”

He shrugged. “I don't know what kind of assets you have, but I have to figure that an attorney has a better income than a military pilot.”

“What about the winery?” she challenged. “Don't you have any interest in the family business?”

“Well, of course, but—”

“And don't you think it would be wise to take steps to protect that interest?”

“Maybe I'm naive,” he allowed. “But it seems to me that a woman who rearranges her life to care for someone else's child is someone inherently worthy of trust.”

Before she could think of a response to that, he'd gone into the house and left her alone with the wine and the stars and an uncomfortable feeling that her marriage-of-convenience to Zach Crawford was going to be anything but simple.

She stayed up late into the night, working at her laptop, drafting and revising a prenuptial agreement. But in the end, she realized he was right. More importantly, she recognized that what he was giving her—his name and legal standing in Emma's life—were a lot more valuable than anything she was bringing into the union. And if, for some reason, their marriage didn't work out, she didn't see Zach going after her condo in Syracuse or her designer wardrobe any more than she would go after his Trenton apartment or his flight suits.

And if getting married without a legal contract felt to Paige like jumping out of an airplane without a secondary chute, it was a leap of faith and one that she was ready to take. Because somewhere between saying yes to Zach's proposal and shutting down her computer, she'd realized that she did want this marriage to work—and not just for Emma.

Because she was falling for Zach.

And while that had definitely not been in her plans, the more time she spent with Zach and the more she discovered about him, the more she realized that he was a man she could count on.

She'd meant it when she'd told him that she trusted him with her life. She wasn't sure she was ready to trust him with her heart, but it was already in his hands.

Z
ach didn't have any expectations about how Paige would look when she walked down the aisle. He knew she'd gone shopping with his mother and his sisters and that she'd come back with a dress, but the women had all been careful not to reveal any details about it within his earshot. Not that it mattered to him. He was certain that she'd look fabulous in whatever she'd chosen.

But in all of the conversations they'd had about their wedding and all of the plans they'd made for their marriage, his fiancée had been forthright and practical. So the last thing he expected to see was Paige looking like a bride.

A breathtakingly beautiful bride.

The moment he saw her moving down the makeshift aisle toward him, everyone and everything else faded away.

The ceremony was, thankfully, brief and focused on the exchange of vows and rings. Paige's voice quavered slightly when she recited her part and her hand trembled when he
lifted it to slide the diamond-encrusted band onto the third finger, but her gaze remained steady throughout.

She struggled a little when it was her turn to put his ring on his finger, but then it was done and Reverend Lamont finally said, “You may kiss your bride.”

Paige was the least nervous about this part of the wedding because this was a part she and Zach had done before. Not as husband and wife, of course, but kissing was kissing, and although she didn't make a habit of kissing in front of an audience, it still seemed less significant than the speaking of vows and giving of rings.

Or so she thought until Zach kissed her.

Because this kiss was more than an obligatory touch of his mouth to hers. It was a soft, lingering kiss that teased just a little and promised so much more.

When he drew back, she was breathless, yearning and terrified. Because while the smattering of applause from their wedding guests echoed dimly in the back of her mind, she knew the kiss hadn't been for their benefit. It had been for her.

It was a kiss that told her she mattered, when she hadn't expected to matter. Not over and above the arrangements they'd made for Emma. But this had nothing to do with Emma.

This was personal, and the realization shook her to the very core. It was a reminder of what they had shared. A promise of what could be.

Then Emma broke the spell, lifting her arms toward Zach and demanding, “Up.”

He picked her up, and she kissed his cheeks, first one, then the other, then she leaned over to do the same to Paige. And even those who might have impassively observed the kiss the groom shared with his bride were not untouched by the sweet innocence of her gesture.

The guests erupted into applause again, and Emma beamed.

 

After the ceremony, pictures were taken in the gardens outside the château. As Paige moved around in response to the photographer's directions, her mind alternately skipped back to the kiss they'd shared and jumped forward to the night ahead with giddy anticipation.

Dinner came after the pictures, and while everything looked delicious, she honestly didn't taste a bit of anything she'd eaten. She was aware only of Zach.

Paige didn't see her aunt Lillian until she escaped to the ladies' room to freshen her makeup in anticipation of her first dance as Mrs. Crawford, and when she did, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Her aunt smiled. “Congratulations, Paige.”

“I can't believe you're here,” she murmured.

“I can't believe you didn't invite me,” Lillian admonished.

“I didn't invite you because you're living in Switzerland now.” And because she hadn't expected that she would go out of her way to attend her niece's wedding. Not that Lillian hadn't always been wonderful to her, but because her aunt's acceptance had never quite made up for her father's rejection.

“But I was in Pinehurst visiting with Megan and Gage and the baby when you called to tell her you were getting married,” Lillian explained. “She and Ashley both wanted to be here, but they agreed to stay put so long as I promised to come in their stead.”

“They shouldn't have asked that of you,” Paige murmured.

“They didn't ask, I offered,” Lillian told her. “I wanted to be here, to see you married.”

“Then I'll tell you that I'm very glad to see you,” she said, and impulsively hugged her.

Her aunt seemed surprised but pleased by the gesture of
affection, but ever mindful of appearances she said, “Careful of your dress—you don't want to be covered in creases for the rest of the night.”

Her admonishment was so typically Lillian, it made Paige laugh, which successfully warded off the tears that had filled her eyes. “I'll be careful,” she promised.

Lillian's gaze softened. “You look so much like your mother on her wedding day.”

“Really?” Paige was skeptical, and not sure that any resemblance to her mother—a woman who had abandoned her child to an uncaring father—was a good thing.

Her aunt nodded. “Except that you're even more beautiful.”

“I don't remember what she looked like,” Paige admitted softly. “After she left, he got rid of anything that reminded him of her. I don't even have a photo.”

“I should have expected as much,” Lillian murmured. “Your father isn't a bad man. He's just…uncompromising.”

“That's one word for it,” she agreed.

“I have some pictures,” her aunt told her. “Of their wedding. Of you and your mom when you were just a baby. Even one or two of you with both your mom and dad. I'll see that you get them.”

Although she wasn't sure what purpose they could possibly serve after so many years, Paige was grateful for the offer. “Thank you.”

“Now go,” Lillian said. “Your groom is waiting.”

 

She met Zach in the middle of the dance floor, just as the music began to play. As they danced together, they shared some more kisses, and with every moment that passed, Paige grew increasingly anxious for the reception to be over and their wedding night to begin.

“What are you thinking about?” Zach asked.

She felt her cheeks heat. “Nothing really,” she lied.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he asked, “Want to know what I've been thinking about?”

She tried not to shiver, not to let him know how much his nearness was affecting her. “Okay.”

“Zipper or buttons.”

She drew back, certain she hadn't heard him correctly. “What?”

“I've been wondering, since you came down the aisle in that dress, how to get you out of it,” he explained. “If it's a zipper, it will be quick. If it's a long line of buttons, it will take longer.”

“Now I know why you've been sliding your hand up and down my spine.” And her body was tingling in response to the promise of his words as much as the lazy caress of his hands.

“That's part of the reason,” he admitted. “The other part is that I just like touching you. Of course, touching you tends to fog my brain, which might be why I haven't been able to figure out the schematics of this dress.”

“Or maybe it's because the zipper is over here,” she told him, and reached for the hand that was on her back and guided it around to the side.

Zach sucked in a breath as his palm brushed the curve of her breast. Paige smiled, clearly pleased by his reaction.

“Can we get out of here now?” he asked.

“I think we'd raise more than a few eyebrows if we made a beeline for the door at the end of our first dance.”

“I don't care,” he insisted.

“Well, I do,” she told him. “Besides, I promised a dance to the father of the groom.”

“Watch that guy,” Zach warned. “He's got some pretty smooth moves.”

“I have been watching him. He and your mom. They look so happy together, even after forty years of marriage.”

“They love each other,” he said simply.

Paige didn't know how to respond to that, so she only glanced toward Justin and Kathleen again. Their bodies were close together, their gazes locked on one another as they swayed to the music. And as she watched them, she realized that she wanted what they had—that forever kind of connection.

Could she have that with Zach? she wondered. Could she fall in love with her husband?

His lips brushed against her temple; her heart fluttered.

Yeah, she was pretty sure she could fall in love with him. So maybe the real question was could
he
fall in love with
her?

 

A few hours later, they finally said goodbye to their guests, gave Emma hugs and kisses, then headed for the exit.

Paige had been as anxious as Zach was to get away from the crowd so that they could be alone together. And the moment they stepped out of the reception and into the night, her heart started pounding harder and faster.

With every step she took closer to the guest house, her anticipation grew. It was ridiculous to be nervous. Even if it was her wedding night, she was hardly a virgin bride. It wasn't even the first night she and Zach would be together.

But somehow, the ring on her finger changed everything.

And when she and Zach had sex tonight, they wouldn't just be having sex, they would be consummating their marriage. It was an archaic concept, but even acknowledging it as such didn't diminish the significance of the act. After tonight, she would truly be Zach's wife in every sense of the word.

Zach's wife.

After almost thirty years spent establishing her own identity, she expected that such a possessive term would annoy her. But the way Zach looked at her and the way he touched her made her feel not like a possession but like someone
who was cared about, cherished. And when he made love with her—

She shivered at the memory of what he could do with his hands and his mouth and his body.

He stroked a hand down her bare arm, raising goose bumps on her flesh. “Cold?”

She shook her head. How could she possibly be cold when there was so much heat inside of her?

But he was already shrugging out of his jacket, tucking it around her shoulders. So she snuggled into it, absorbing the warmth from his body, breathing in his scent, already thinking about him taking the jacket off of her again, along with every other scrap of clothing she was wearing.

Anticipation tangled with the nerves in her belly as they rounded the corner and came upon the guest house.

There was a soft glow from the window, suggesting that a light had been left on inside. Probably one of Zach's sisters, Paige thought, recalling their efforts to ensure that every detail of their brother's wedding day was memorable.

He dug the key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock. With a soft click, the dead bolt released and he pushed the door open.

Paige started forward.

“Wait.”

She paused in midstep. “What am I waiting for?”

“I'm supposed to carry you over the threshold.”

“Why?”

“Because it's another one of those wedding traditions my family is big on—along with the honeymoon we're not having.”

“But your family isn't here.”

Zach looked around, squinting into the night. “It's too dark to be sure of that.”

She chuckled. “Do you really think your sisters are lurking somewhere in the rows of grapes?”

“It wouldn't be the first time,” he muttered.

“Now that sounds like an interesting story.”

He swept her off of her feet and into his arms. “And not one I'm going to share.”

“Hayden will tell me.”

“Yeah, she probably will,” he agreed, and carried her through the open door. “But not tonight. Tonight is just for you and me.”

 

Except that when they entered the guest house, his concern that one of more of his sisters might be watching them proved well-founded because it was apparent someone had been there before them. The light she'd seen from the window wasn't from a lamp that had been left on but clusters of candles set around the room.

“I hear music,” Paige said and, entranced, started to follow the sound of the soft notes floating on the air.

Zach, after only a slight hesitation, climbed the stairs behind her.

She'd never been in the guest house before, but she would bet that the room from which the music emanated was the master bedroom. The furniture was masculine looking—the wood solid and dark—but the tone of the room was balanced with distinctive feminine touches. Airy curtains at the windows, a collection of little bottles on the bureau, a rose-colored wing chair beneath an antique reading lamp in the corner.

The music was coming from a portable boom box on one of the twin nightstands that flanked the bed, along with a crystal vase filled with pink roses. On the other was a silver bucket in which a bottle of champagne was chilling, two crystal flutes standing at the ready beside it. More candles flickered in here, too, the light casting a decidedly romantic light over the scene.

But it was the bed at the center of the room that caught and
held her attention. It was king-size and made up with cream-colored satin sheets scattered with fragrant rose petals.

“Wow,” Paige said.

“Apparently my sisters are romantics.”

“They're wonderful,” she said. “Your whole family has been wonderful—” she sighed “—and I feel like such a fraud.”

He tipped her chin up, forced her to meet his gaze. “Why?”

“Because they think this is a real marriage.”

“It is real,” he insisted. “I've got the paperwork to prove it.”

She knew the marriage was legal, but what tugged at her conscience and what she wasn't willing to remind him of now was that neither of them had really meant the vows they'd recited. Neither of them was in love with the other. But she believed they were both committed to the marriage, and maybe that would be enough.