Wedding at King’s Convenience (10 page)

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, brother,” Justice told him. “Let me know what happens.”

With Justice’s less-than-hopeful words ringing in his ear, Jefferson tossed his cell phone onto the coffee table and walked to the door. He hardly noticed the lush room. It was much like every other suite in every other hotel he’d ever stayed in. Crystal vases filled with colorful flowers standing on gleaming tables. Comfortable chairs drawn up to a gas-fed hearth where carefully monitored flames leaped and danced.

He moved quickly, but even with that, three sharp, impatient knocks sounded out again before he reached the door.

When he opened it, Maura rushed right past him, anger radiating off her in thick waves. And all he could think was,
God, she’s beautiful.

She wore dark-wash jeans and a red sweater beneath a black coat she peeled off and tossed across a chair the moment she was in the room. Her long black hair was windblown and there was hot color in her cheeks.

“You lying, sneaky, treacherous, no good…”

“Hello to you, too.” He closed the door and faced her,
determined to play this out. He’d set his course with Cara, so he’d hold true to it until he got what he wanted.

Maura’s complete surrender.

“Don’t you hello me, Jefferson King,” she shot back, lifting one hand to shake her index finger at him. “How can you stand there looking so smug and proud of yourself? What kind of man is it to do what you’ve done?” Briefly, she threw both hands up in disbelief. “I don’t even have the words for it. How could you? How could you be so hard? So mean? So…”

“Cruel?” he helped out. “Callous? Uncaring?”

“Aye,” she snapped. “All of those and more, though ’tis clear to me you’ve not the decency to be ashamed of it.”

She was more furious than he’d ever seen her before and that gave him pause to wonder if maybe Justice hadn’t been right. But it was too late now, he told himself. He’d set a course and he wasn’t a man to back off just because the road got a little bumpier than expected.

“I see Cara gave you the news.”

Maura bristled. Since the moment her sister had come to her at the farm, crying over an opportunity lost, Maura had been able to think of nothing else but coming here and facing Jefferson with what he’d done. She’d driven into the city like a madwoman, steering the lorry he’d given her down the familiar roads in a blind rage. The desk clerk had taken one look at her and had pointed out the elevators, obviously unwilling to take a chance on trying to stop her. A wise choice on his part.

Now that she was here, the fury riding within was bubbling to the surface. Jefferson’s casual attitude wasn’t soothing her any. He looked smug and sure of
himself as he watched her. So much so she felt a distinct urge to kick him. Hard. And only barely resisted. Her entire body was shaking with temper and disappointment and hurt.

He’d shown a side of himself she’d never guessed at. How had she not seen what he was capable of before? How had she trusted this man? Given herself to him? Thought herself in love with him?

She looked up into pale blue eyes and saw only cold distance glittering back at her. As if he were standing right in front of her, a part of him was sealed off from this confrontation. As if his mind and heart had taken a step aside, leaving only the ruthless businessman in their place. For the first time since she’d known him, Maura saw his fierceness. The steely resolve of a powerful man who would do whatever he must to ensure he got exactly what he wanted.

Tension coiled and crackled in the air between them. She could hardly draw a breath for the iron band tightening around her chest. Her heart.

“You’ve gone too far,” she told him, her voice hardly more than a scrape of sound.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t pretend ignorance. It insults us both,” she said and tossed her purse atop her coat. “You’ve fired Cara from your movie.”

He shrugged and walked past her toward one of the twin couches set in the middle of the luxurious room. “She wasn’t working out.”

She watched him go, vaguely noticing how at home he was in the lush surroundings. How this place, this life
seemed to suit him and how it also seemed to mark the difference between them. But Maura pushed that thought aside and concentrated on her reason for being there.

“That’s a lie. You told me yourself you thought Cara a fine actor. So it’s not her work you’ve a problem with. It’s
me.
You think to use my family to get my cooperation. That’s the mark of a small man, Jefferson King.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, whirling back around, returning to her, coming close enough that she could see his eyes were now shining with an inner light that blazed with banked temper and conviction. “It’s the mark of a man who goes after what he wants any way he has to. I warned you I wouldn’t give up. I’m Jefferson King. And a King does what he must to get what he wants.”

“No matter the cost?” She searched his eyes for some sign of the man she’d fallen in love with, but he wasn’t there.

“I told you going in, Maura. You’re carrying my child. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he’s taken care of.”

She knew, logically, that his determination to care for his child was a good thing. After all, not every man would care, would he? But Jefferson used his wealth and privilege as a club, swinging it wildly, knocking aside whoever might stand in the way of his goals and that she didn’t understand. Or forgive.

“You’ve no right to draw Cara into this,” she said, silently congratulating herself on the calm, reasonable tone of her own voice. “It’s between us, Jefferson. No one else.”

“You brought her into this,” he said, “when you wouldn’t see reason.”

“And because I don’t agree with you, out come the bully tactics?”

He winced, or she thought he had. The expression was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be sure. “You wanted this the hard way, Maura. Not me.”

“I only want—”

“What?” He grabbed her, big hands coming down on her shoulders, holding her in place. “What is it you
really
want, Maura?”

Something he had no interest in hearing, she thought sadly, staring up into his eyes and finally,
finally,
seeing the man she knew and loved looking back at her. He was as torn up by all of this as she was, Maura knew that. She felt his frustration as surely as she did her own.

And oh, what a tricky question he’d asked her.
What did she really want?
She wanted the fairy tale. What she wanted was to love him and be loved in return. To marry Jefferson King and make a family. She wanted it so badly, in fact, that she was ashamed to admit even to herself that she’d recently begun to actually reconsider his pitiful proposal. If she married for the sake of her child, it would be foolish, she knew. But oh, the temptation of saying yes. Of living with him. Being with him.

Yet even in the midst of wild dreams, she knew also that if she allowed herself to weaken on that point, she would, eventually, regret it.

So she kept those wants locked away inside her and said only, “I want you to give Cara her job back.”

“And you’ll do what for me in return?”

Temper drained away to be replaced by a sorrow that went soul-deep. She lifted her hands to his, linking them,
as she looked into his eyes. “Not what you’re hoping. I won’t marry you for the sake of the child, Jefferson. I can’t do that. Not to myself
or
to you. Sentence all three of us to half a life? What would be the good in that?”

He dropped his forehead to hers. “You’re as thickheaded as I am,” he murmured.

“We are the pair, aren’t we?”

Lifting his head again, he met her gaze and said, “She has her job back.”

“Thank you,” she said, mildly surprised that it was taken care of so easily. Over so quickly. Her body was still buzzing from a combination of anger and desire and now…she had to leave.

But his hands on her shoulders were hard and tender and warm. Heat from his skin seeped into hers, chasing away the chill she’d been carrying for what felt like forever. She’d held strong against her own wants and needs, thinking that to be with him now would only make the parting that much harder.

Yet she was deceiving no one. Their parting would devastate her no matter the circumstances. Would one more night together really add to the pain? Or would it be an easing of sorts?

As if he could read her mind, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. His lips on her skin sent ripples of awareness coursing through her. His hands running up and down her spine caused every cell in her body to jump up and shout for joy.

Her heart ached, her body burned and her mind knew it could never stand against heart and soul and body, so
it quietly closed up shop and allowed Maura to only
feel.
For this, she didn’t want to think. Didn’t need to think.

This, what lay between them, was good and strong and so powerful the only thing either of them needed was their instincts, drawing them together.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, lifting his head again, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted next, “but I did. You’re in me, Maura, and now I need to be in you.”

“I need that, as well.” She sighed, lifting her mouth for his. He claimed a kiss, moving his mouth over hers with an aching tenderness that made her want to weep with the beauty of it.

There was a gentleness in his touch that took the hard edge off the need pulsing between them. Maura felt his quiet control and sighed for it.

Here was home, she thought, her mind sliding into a wonderfully hazy oblivion as emotion and sensation took the forefront. Here was where she wanted to be. Yearned to be. In his arms. Always.

He skimmed one hand up, into her hair to the back of her neck. He held her head steady while his mouth plundered hers and she gave herself up to the amazement flooding her system.

How had she thought she could go the rest of her life without feeling this? Experiencing this? How had she lasted months without the caress of his hands on her skin? And how would she make it through the rest of her life without him?

“Be with me,” he whispered, already leading her through the seating area to the bedroom beyond.

He moved her as if they were dancing, one arm around her waist now, one hand holding hers close to his heart. She looked up into his eyes as the room slowly whirled around her and knew she’d dance anywhere with him.

“Be with me.” She repeated his words to her and his swift intake of breath, coupled with a flash deep in his eyes, were all that told her how she had touched him.

I
n the bedroom, she saw the balcony doors were open, a soft, cold breeze sliding into the room, ruffling lacy white sheers. From the street below came the muted sounds of pub music, riding the wind. One lamp in the room was on, spilling enough golden light to chase away shadows.

Then he stopped alongside the wide bed and helped her out of the sweater she wore. Beneath was a plain white shirt that he quickly unbuttoned and tossed aside. He unhooked her bra with a surprising agility and then dispensed with her boots, jeans and underwear. In moments, she was unclothed before him and feeling just a bit hesitant about her changing body.

He hadn’t seen her naked since the night they’d made their child. And since then, she’d gained a little weight and her belly was rounded with the growing baby.

She watched him as he gazed at her and she saw his eyes soften when he looked at her abdomen. Suddenly uneasy, she said, “I’ve changed, I know.”

“Yes,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers even as he laid the flat of one hand against the mound of their child. “You’re even more beautiful.”

“Oh,” Maura told him, a smile curving her mouth, “you’ve the gift of the Irish for saying exactly the right thing at the right time.”

He smiled, too, then said, “You’re shivering. I’ll close the window.”

“No, don’t,” she told him. “The weather isn’t what’s making me tremble, Jefferson. It’s need, is all. Need for you.”

He swallowed hard and reached past her to pull back the quilt and sheets covering the bed. “Get under the covers anyway,” he said and waited until she had.

Then hurriedly, he stripped out of his own clothes and joined her under the down comforter. Maura moved into him and instinctively aligned her body with his. The slide of his skin against hers felt so right. So perfect. She sighed in contentment, shifting her hands over his broad, muscled back, up to encircle his neck and then plunging her fingers into his hair, drawing his head to hers.

Lips met, tongues entangled and breath was exchanged for breath. They came together as silently, as magically as if they’d been born for this and only this.

Sensations rose up and crashed inside her and Maura could only hold on to him as he covered her body with his. He parted her thighs, she lifted her hips to welcome him and in the soft light of that luxurious room, he
claimed her as he had before. He slid into her heat, her depths and in the taking, gave. In the giving, took. Hearts beat as one. Bodies moved together in perfect rhythm and sighing groans filled the air like blessings.

He kissed her as the first wave of completion caught her and she cried out his name as her soul shattered under his tender hands. Only moments later, she held him to her as his body released into hers and he collapsed atop her.

In the quiet stillness, minutes or hours could have gone by.

All Maura knew was that she didn’t want this night to end. Didn’t want to lose Jefferson. Yet, she couldn’t think of a way to keep him. Not and keep her pride, as well. Could the man not see that he loved her? She felt it in his touch. Saw it in his eyes. Sensed the gentleness beneath the passion and knew that it didn’t come only from desire. From lust. There was feeling there—and it was more than affection.

Yet, he pulled back from the mention of three small words. Held himself safely distanced from the risk of love. What was it, she wondered, that made him so determined to avoid giving his heart?

As she struggled with troubling thoughts, Jefferson rolled to one side, drawing her with him, cradling her closely against his body. Her head on his shoulder, his arms around her, he lay in the lamp-lit dark and said nothing.

How long could they go on like this? she thought desperately. How long before they tore each other’s hearts to shreds and there was nothing left for either of them?

He trailed one hand idly down the length of her until
he could cover her abdomen with his palm. She sighed at the gentleness of his touch even as she remembered the fire in his passion. He rested his hand on her, fingers splayed, and she felt him take a breath and hold it—waiting for his child to move again.

As if to please its father, the baby obliged with a tiny kick that brought a smile to Maura’s face despite unshed tears burning her eyes.

“He’s strong already,” Jefferson mused and she could hear pride ringing in his tone.

“Aye, soon he’ll be trying to kick his way out,” she said, surprised at the thickness of her voice.

Jefferson turned his head to look at her. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?”

“’Tis foolish, never mind.”

He levered himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. His eyes were the palest blue and in the darkness, they almost seemed to glow with some inner light. Maura stared up into them, then lifted her hand to smooth his hair back from his forehead.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you or the baby, did I?”

“You didn’t, no,” she told him, easing the fear she saw in his gaze. “I’m feeling a bit weepy these days is all.”

“That’s not it,” he said, his mouth firming, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he gritted his teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Maura.”

“’Tisn’t a lie,” she countered, pushing at his chest to shove him away. But it was like trying to push at the walls of her barn. “I
am
weepier these days. A woman’s hormones are all over the place when she’s carrying.”

“Fine, not a lie. But not the complete truth.”

“Ah, Jefferson,” she said on a sigh, “what difference does it make?”

“The difference is, we at least owe each other honesty, don’t we?”

“You’re right,” Maura mused. “Honesty would be best. Especially now.”

“So tell me why you’re crying.”

This time when she gave him a little nudge, he yielded and Maura pushed herself up into a sitting position on the bed. Tugging the quilt and sheets up over her breasts, she glanced out the window at the shining night beyond. When she spoke, her voice was hushed.

“I was only thinking of how much I’ll miss you when you go.”

“You don’t have to,” he said and he, too, spoke in a whisper. “You can come with me.”

“We’ve been over this,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face with both hands. “The baby is not a reason to wed.”

“That’s not what I’m saying this time,” he told her and instantly won her full attention.

Maura stared at him and tried to read what she saw in his eyes, but the shadows in the room were too deep. “What are you saying, then?”

“I’ve been thinking about this, Maura,” he told her as he edged off the bed, snatched up his jeans and tugged them on. He didn’t bother to button them, just stalked across the room to her side of the bed and stood there, looking down at her. Arms folded across his chest, legs braced as if for battle, he said, “What just happened
between us sort of solidified those thoughts. We’re good together. Right. And you know it.”

“I do,” she agreed, wondering where he was going with this. Trying not to hope, but failing miserably, she clung to the dream in her heart and waited for him to continue.

“Good. I’m glad you can see that. It’ll make what I have to say that much easier.”

“What is it you’re getting to?”

“In a minute,” Jefferson said, wanting to get everything between them out in the open now. “We said we’d be honest—”

She only waited.

He blurted a truth he hadn’t planned on telling her. “I didn’t fire Cara.”

“What?”

“It was her idea,” he said quickly, giving her a smile he hoped would head her temper off before it got a foothold. “The idea was to make you so angry that you’d agree to marry me so that I’d take her back on the film.”

She hissed in a breath. “Of all the low, despicable…”

“I know. I’ve heard them all.” He leaned down to kiss her, quick, hard, cutting off her thread of insults before she could really get going. Then, easing back, he said, “Now, continuing with the honesty vein…marry me, Maura.”

Clearly still angry over the deception, she narrowed her eyes on him. “We’ve been over this until the path is beaten down, Jefferson. I won’t marry you for the child’s sake.”

“Hear me out at least. This isn’t about the baby. This is about us.”

“It is?”

He had her attention now, he told himself, judging by the interested gleam in her eyes. And as he relished the fact that he was back in charge, he warmed to his theme. He’d faced down hostile mergers before. This was no different. He’d convince her that he knew what was best and they’d go on with their lives.

Deliberately, Jefferson slid one hand down her warm, curvy body and settled his palm atop their child in a possessive move she couldn’t miss. That simple action linked them, made the three of them a unit. As they should be.

He had to convince her. Had to make her see. He wouldn’t lose this. Wouldn’t lose her because of her own stubborn pride or unwillingness to listen to reason. Being with her again had brought it all home to him. He’d lay it all out for her, exactly as it had just popped into his mind and then she’d see that he was right.

The perfect solution.

“What is it you have in mind, then?” she asked.

“I’m proposing a marriage of convenience,” he started and when she opened her mouth to speak, he hurried on, determined to have his say completely. “We’re good together and you’ve already admitted it, so there’s no point in denying it. The sex is great and we actually like each other.”

“Like,”
she repeated.

“Exactly.” He smiled at her. “Marrying is just a good business decision. Everyone wins this way, Maura. You. Me. The baby. We know going in exactly what kind of marriage we have so there’re no misconceptions. No room for hurt feelings or shattered illusions.”

“Convenience,” she said softly. “Marriage as a convenience.”

He didn’t like the hesitation in her voice, but chalked it up to the fact that she hadn’t had time to fully realize all of the advantages he was offering her. Well, she was a smart woman. She’d work it out and come to the same conclusion he had, given enough time. “Just think about it for a minute.”

“Oh, I am,” she assured him with a small shake of her head. “And while I’m thinking, perhaps you can tell me, Jefferson, just where does love come into this arrangement between us?”

Everything in him went cold and still. He felt himself shutting down, closing off. Hadn’t he couched his proposal in terms that would guarantee love wouldn’t be able to rear its ugly head? He couldn’t have been more clear about it. Irritation flowed through him, but he couldn’t look away from her eyes, swimming with emotion.

“Why does it have to come into it at all?”

“Marriage without love would be a cold and empty sort of thing, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he argued.

Why was she making this more difficult than it had to be? Damn it. He’d laid it out for her. Explained how he felt and what they could have. But instead of being reasonable, she was going to make him confess everything. Force him to hurt her by telling her exactly why he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

He blew out an impatient breath and stood up, turning his back on her to walk to the balcony and stand in the breeze still rushing in. He’d stayed too long in this
place, Jefferson thought. If he’d left a couple of weeks ago, he could have avoided this. Could have spared both of them this.

But he hadn’t been able to leave her. Now they’d both pay for that indulgence. He stared out at the night for a long moment before finally turning his gaze back to her.

She looked ethereal, there in his bed. Her hair a wild tangle, her mouth still swollen from his kisses. Lamplight and shadow played on her features and her eyes shone as she watched him. He steeled himself against the well of emotion threatening to choke him.

“I can’t love you, Maura,” he finally said softly.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t.” He folded his arms across his chest in a classic pose of self-defense. “I was married before.”

She went absolutely still.

He didn’t like thinking about it. Didn’t like remembering old pain. But there was no choice but to speak of it.

“Her name was Anna and she was the love of my life,” he said, needing to have this said aloud, so that Maura could understand what was keeping him from her. “We were too young to get married, but we did anyway.” He smiled a bit at the memories rushing into his mind. They were soft now, hazy with time and distance, but there was still an innocence and sweetness to them that tugged at his heart.

“What happened?”

“She died.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “She was only twenty-one. I was a year older. It was a stupid accident. Anna was painting our
bedroom. She fell off the ladder. Hit her head.” He was quiet for a moment or two, recalling how she’d brushed it off, said she was fine. “She seemed all right. Wouldn’t go to the doctor. Said it was silly to make a big deal over a little bump. She died in her sleep that night. The autopsy found a hemorrhage in her brain.”

“That’s terrible, Jefferson,” Maura said softly. “I’m so sorry for you and for her.”

Mentally, he pulled away from the past and said briskly, “When she died, I swore that I’d never love another woman the way I loved her.”

She drew in a long, deep breath but still remained silent. He hoped she understood. Hoped she could now see that what he was offering her was the best he had inside him. This was it. Take him as he was, or they would have nothing.

Walking back to her, he stood beside the bed and said, “I want to marry you, Maura. Not just because of the baby, either. I like being with you. I like having you beside me at night. I think we could make a good life together.”

Still she was quiet and the shadows had deepened so that he couldn’t even read her eyes now.

“I’m offering you my name,” he told her. “I’m offering to build a life with you and raise our child. But don’t expect love from me, Maura, because I won’t love you. Ever.”

The distant music from the pub on the street below sounded overly loud in the strained silence. Time ticked past in long, drawn-out seconds.

“Without love, we have nothing,” she finally said and Jefferson’s hopes crashed and burned at his feet.