Wishing and Hoping Page 6

When they stepped into Ben’s office and Ben closed the door behind him, he said only, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Drew parroted stupidly.

  Ben drew a quick breath. “Look, I’m not a simpleton. I understand that age doesn’t always factor into romance. I know my daughter is beautiful. She’s also smart and funny and will make a wonderful wife. I should have realized that some day you would wake up and see that.”

  Dumbstruck, Drew wasn’t entirely sure what to say. If he was hearing correctly, he was off the hook.

  “And I know she’s always had a crush on you.”

  Drew turned from the fireplace. This was new information. “Really?”

  Ben laughed. “Oh, come on, you had to have seen it. Her mother and I used to chuckle about how she’d trip over her own feet when you were around.”

  “I thought she was clumsy.”

  “Oh, Drew,” Ben said, laughing again. “Do yourself a favor and don’t ever tell her that!”

  “I won’t,” Drew said, but he felt strange. Not only had he been absolved of his sin, but now he also knew that Tia, the woman who seemed to like to spit fire at him, had always had a crush on him. It should have given him a chuckle. Instead, it twisted something in the vicinity of his heart. He’d never given her the time of day. He’d called her foolish things like Squirt. It also explained why they had made love the night they’d met in Pittsburgh.

  “Let’s get back out to the party,” Ben said, nodding toward the door.

  Drew took a breath and followed Ben’s lead. But when he reached the door, Ben slapped him on the back.

  “Just remember, if you ever hurt her, I will have to hunt you down and shoot you.”

  Because it was the sort of joke they’d shared before Drew got Ben’s daughter pregnant, Drew laughed. “Got it,” he said, then led Ben back to the patio and the reception festivities.

  He and Ben were separated almost the moment they stepped out amongst the pots of daisies and vases of fragrant roses on the patio. Drew immediately spotted Tia and began walking toward her.

  He caught her hand just as the lead singer for the band her mother had hired approached them.

  “We’re set up now,” the singer said, looking from Tia to Drew and then back at Tia again. He appeared to be twenty-eight or so. His hair was short and spiky. The dull gray shirt and tattered jeans he wore screamed of an antiestablishment, free-spirited entertainer personality. He also had warm blue eyes that continually strayed to Tia’s face. “So we’re ready anytime you are. First dance is yours.”

  Drew almost said, “Might as well get this over with,” but he remembered what Ben had said about Tia having a crush on him most of her teen years. He swallowed, then said, “Sure, we’re ready, too. What do you want us to do?”

  “Stand on the edge of the patio that Ben has marked off for dancing. We’ll introduce you. You dance.”

  Tia smiled. “Sounds simple enough.”

  “Hey,” the singer said, his voice light, lilting, flirtatious. “I’ve been doing this for ten years. I promise I’ll make it completely painless.”

  Tia laughed, enjoying him, and something foreign rippled through Drew. She might have had a crush on Drew in her teen years, it might have even been the remnants of that crush that made her invite him home in Pittsburgh, but she was an adult now. Pretty, intelligent, interesting to men her own age. And Drew had been nothing but a grouchy pain in the butt who insisted she marry him, insisted he get a place in their baby’s life, insisted she sign a prenup, without once saying a kind word or even thanks. He knew the child he had with her would be his only child. Yet, he hadn’t been smart enough to appreciate Tia.

  The singer bounded off, taking his spot behind the microphone as Tia and Drew made their way to the makeshift dance floor. The band began to play something slow and the lead singer introduced Drew and Tia, who glided out to dance.

  Drew slid his hand around her waist and she put her free hand on his shoulder and they circled the dance floor. He hadn’t intended to make a big deal out of their marriage, or this wedding, but now everything was off-kilter. He blamed her dad for telling him she had had a crush on him, then he blamed the lead singer for reminding him that Tia was a beautiful woman, but he knew that the real culprit was his libido…or maybe his pride.

  This beautiful woman was now officially his. And she was carrying his child. And he didn’t want other men looking at her and he did want to sleep with her.

  He had a feeling somebody was going to have to come up with an awfully compelling argument to convince him to keep his hands off her tonight when they got home.

  Chapter Four

  Tia sneaked a peek at Drew as he slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes to drive them home from their reception.

  He’d been acting strangely since their first dance: one minute quiet, the next solicitous. And Tia herself had been feeling funny since his mother had made her promise to take care of him. She didn’t know the reason for Drew’s odd behavior, but she knew why she felt differently. His mother had told her enough about Drew’s past that Tia now understood why he always said something that made her mad when it seemed they might be getting too friendly. He’d been hurt. He’d been cheated, lied to, stolen from. He didn’t want to be hurt again. In short, he didn’t want another marriage.

  Which was great, because knowing his feelings about marriage helped her to not fall victim to the powerful emotions she’d felt when he’d held her on the dance floor and when she’d thrown her bouquet. It even helped her to ignore the nervous excitement trembling through her at the knowledge that they were about to enter his house as man and wife.

  Drew pulled his car up to the front porch of his house, cut the engine and got out. Tia reached for her door handle but before she opened the door, he was already there to help her exit. She smiled.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was soft and serious, so intense it was beginning to scare her. Not because she was afraid of him. She was afraid of what would happen to her if she got involved with him for real. Knowing that he had a failed relationship might help her to see why he was resistant to embarking on another, but understanding didn’t mean she was so foolish as to think she would be the woman who would change his mind. Once the baby was born, he intended to divorce her. That was what she had to remember.

  She allowed him to help her and her full-skirted gown out of his car, but let go of his hand the minute she was on her feet. Without waiting for him, she turned to the porch stairs and, hiking her skirt to her calves for ease of mobility, she ran up the three steps.

  Again, when she reached the door, he was there before she was and opened it for her.

  She smiled her thanks and turned to walk in, but he grabbed her arm.

  His dark eyes caught her gaze. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  The hungry look in his eyes rendered her speechless and she couldn’t think, let alone figure out what it was he thought she was forgetting. Before she got a chance to reason it out, he scooped her up into his arms. Thrust against his chest and held in his strong arms only a few inches away from his face, she froze.

  In her dreams, she’d pictured scenarios like this over and over, but nothing came close to the reality. The ease with which he lifted her demonstrated his strength and made him seem like the kind of man a woman could depend on. When she flung her arms around his neck to steady herself, his soft hair tickled her fingers. His heady male scent found her nostrils.

  This was not good. Especially since she knew how well muscled he was beneath the tux and crisp white shirt. She knew he had a mat of dark chest hair. She knew his texture and his taste. She knew making love with him was glorious.

  Her pulse quickened, but she reminded herself he didn’t want her. Not really. Not forever. And if he didn’t want her forever and she slept with him, she would get hurt. Despite her rationale, it took every ounce of restraint she had not to nestle against him. Not to nuzzle her nose against the firm
skin of his neck. Not to tickle or tease, whisper romantic phrases, give in to the sexual attraction that pulsed between them.

  He strode through the open door, talking. “As you heard at the wedding, I haven’t had much luck at marriage. It dawned on me that might have been because I wasn’t much for tradition or conventionality, so this time around I’m not taking any chances.”

  Tia swallowed. He wasn’t taking any chances? What was that supposed to mean? They’d already agreed that this marriage would end when the baby was born. And she’d lectured herself about getting involved in anything that might ultimately hurt her…or him. Technically, she’d promised his mother she wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Does it matter if we break with a tradition or two since we’re getting divorced?”

  He captured her gaze again with his intense brown eyes and Tia held her breath. If his expression was anything to go by, he was having second thoughts about making this marriage real—at least physically. Every fiber of her being longed to give him anything and everything he wanted. Every cell in her brain, however, reminded her that confusing their deal by making love would only make the divorce painful.

  Finally Drew said, “We have almost eight months to be married. Even considering that we’ll only see each other a few weekends, we will be spending those entire weekends together and that’s a lot of time. Plenty of things can go wrong in eight months of weekends. That’s why I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Though disappointment rumbled through Tia, her common sense breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Yeah. Best not to take any chances.”

  Still, he didn’t put her down, and when too much time passed with him holding her, she quickly recalled every word he’d just said, wondering if she’d missed something. When she got to the part about lots of things going wrong, she realized exactly the opposite was true, too. A lot of things could also go right.

  She caught his gaze, understanding his hesitation. If enough things went right, these eight months could be a stepping stone to falling in love for real. And if they fell in love for real, then they wouldn’t divorce…and nobody would get hurt. And if nobody was going to get hurt, was it so wrong to make love?

  She licked her dry lips. That was wishful thinking at its finest. And why shouldn’t she be thinking wishfully? Every other area of her life sucked. Her original cereal campaign ideas weren’t as good as they should have been. The rest of the ad team seemed to be losing faith in her. It was no wonder staying in Virginia and being married to a sex god seemed like heaven. It was the easy way out.

  She took a breath, reminding herself that she loved her career and she wasn’t a coward. So what if her first real idea failed? She had to fight her way out of this and prove herself. And she couldn’t very well do that from a farm a six-hour drive away from her office. No matter how sexy Drew was, or how real their vows had seemed, he wasn’t really hers. And if she got caught up in this charade, thinking he loved her when he was only playing house, biding his time until the baby was born and he could divorce her, she would be so devastated there was a good possibility that she’d lose her career.

  “You might want to put me down.”

  He looked ready to argue, but Tia said, “I mean it.”

  He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds longer but Tia held her ground. Their agreement was set. They’d actually spelled it out on paper in the prenup and both had signed on the dotted line. She’d be a fool if she believed the look of longing in his eyes over his signature. Drew was too much of a pragmatist. His signature always trumped his feelings.

  “Come on, Drew. Just like you said, it’s best not to take any unnecessary chances.”

  He slid her to the floor. “Right.”

  “I think I’ll go to bed now,” Tia said brightly, immediately easing them out of the awkwardness of standing around and chatting, or trying to figure out something to do for the next hour or so. “I left my overnight case with extra clothes and toiletries in the bedroom I was using the weekend I stayed here…you know…when we decided to get married. So I’ll just go back to that room.”

  He glanced in the living room, at the bar, and Tia didn’t blame him. A good, stiff drink sounded like a great idea to her, too. If she could have had one, she would.

  He returned his gaze to hers, his eyes uncertain, wavering. He might have put her down, but he hadn’t really decided against making love. Tia didn’t move, didn’t breathe. It was one thing for her to decide on her own that making love wasn’t a good idea, but it would be another thing entirely to be strong if he kissed her, touched her, began to seduce her. She knew the power of his kisses and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to resist.

  Regret filled his eyes, then he smiled wearily and said, “Good night.”

  Not about to press her luck, Tia fled up the steps, breathing a sigh of relief that her questionable resolve hadn’t been put to the test.

  In the yellow bedroom she’d used on her first weekend stay, she kicked off her satin slippers, tossed her veil to the dresser and unhooked the strand of pearls that had belonged to her grandmother. She wasn’t wearing panty hose or a bra. The dress didn’t leave her the option of a bra and it was July. Panty hose would have been torture. So she only had to remove her dress and a pair of panties before she could get into the shower and slide into comfortable pajamas and between crisp, cool sheets.

  She twisted to grip the back zipper of the dress and it slid down easily, but when she tried to yank it off, it wouldn’t budge. Confused, she reached behind her again and discovered that the top was held together by a hook and eye. She shifted her hands, grasped the hook and attempted to maneuver it, but she couldn’t get it to release.

  Drat!

  Barefoot, she padded back down the stairs, once again holding her gown to her calves, probably looking like Cinderella running out of the prince’s ball at the stroke of midnight.

  Drew stood in the living room by the bay window, staring out at the starry night, holding a drink in a crystal glass.

  At the door, she cleared her throat so she didn’t scare him when she spoke. He spun away from the window and their gazes caught and held.

  Before he could draw any incorrect conclusions, she said, “Sorry, but I can’t get my dress unhooked.”

  He set his drink on the bar as she made her way into the living room. “You need help?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” Nervous, she added, “There’s a hook and eye back there.”

  He slid his fingers under the top of the back of her strapless dress and glided them underneath the fabric, tickling her skin as he searched for the closure.

  “Just find that and unhook it and I’ll be on my way.”

  His voice was thick and smoky when he said, “Okay.”

  The pads of his fingers skimmed her back, raising gooseflesh as he took a second pass beneath the neckline of her dress. “I can’t seem to find it.”

  “It’s small.” Her voice shivered from her as the feeling of his fingers against her skin resurrected memories of their night together. “Damn it. Hurry.”

  The zipper of the dress was already down, so when the hook and eye released the bodice of the gown instantly sagged. She caught in the last second before anything private was exposed, but air brushed her now-naked back and her whole body began to tingle.

  She pasted on a smile and turned to face him, crushing her slack gown to her chest. “Thanks.”

  Drew swallowed and softly said, “You’re welcome.”

  Tia nodded and scampered out of the room.

  “Good morning.”

  Drew sucked in a breath to control the surge of hormones that erupted just at the sound of her voice. He’d been so damned tempted to sleep with her the night before that he had forgotten about his ex-wife. Luckily, Tia herself had saved him. From the starstruck look in her eyes it was clear that if they made love, she would believe their marriage was real.

  That had hit him like a ton of bricks, because he knew a few things she might no
t know about real marriages. They ended. That in and of itself wasn’t so bad, except that when any partnership ended, people got hurt. He might have taken care of the financial end of things with the prenup, but there was nothing anybody could do about the emotional backlash. Tia would hate him. He’d hate her. That was just the way it went. Though he knew that he could probably get over another heartbreak, and Tia would, too, the wildcard in this situation was her dad—his friend. If things ended badly, Ben would have to pick a side. And Drew didn’t think he’d side with him. If he and Tia stuck to their original agreement, and didn’t get any stupid ideas about making this a real marriage, they would divorce civilly. Nobody would hate anybody. Everybody would be relieved. And Ben wouldn’t have to pick sides.

  “If you had slept another twenty minutes, Mrs. Hernandez would have sent you out to the barn to eat hay for breakfast.”

  “Oh, I would have done no such thing!” Drew’s housekeeper said, scurrying to the table so she could slap the back of his head. A short, stout woman of Mexican descent, Mrs. Hernandez wasn’t afraid of Drew and Drew knew she was always good for a little comic relief to take the edge off awkward situations.

  “Good morning, Tia,” she said, pulling out Tia’s chair. “I can’t believe this. I go away for a few weeks to take care of my sister and when I get back you’re married. God only knows why any sane woman would want this man, but I’m glad somebody finally does.”

  “Tia’s not sane.”

  “I am so sane,” she countered as she waved away the housekeeper’s offer of coffee. “And Mrs. Hernandez knows that because she plays cards with my mother.”

  Mrs. Hernandez brandished the coffeepot at Drew. “And that means if you don’t treat this girl well, I can tell her mother.”

  “I’m not afraid of Elizabeth,” Drew said, but even as he said the words he wondered if he shouldn’t be. The night he and Tia had announced their impending marriage to Ben and Elizabeth, Elizabeth had been quickly drawing the correct conclusion that something wasn’t quite right. Drew had barely gotten himself and Tia out of her house without an inquisition, but after that, Elizabeth’s suspicions had seemed to disappear as she’d happily planned the wedding, and Drew had forgotten all about them.