His Pregnant Courthouse Bride Page 13

  A good sounding board, a good friend and now...while he said he wanted to do something for her, she felt he needed something from her.

  Rising, she walked down the hall to his office. The door was open. He turned at once from the papers in front of him. “Yes?”

  “Tell me all about Ellie, Wyatt.” Picking up the beautiful shawl he’d lent her, she seated herself on the comfortable chair and wrapped the delicate tatting around herself.

  His brow furrowed. “Why? She’s in the past.”

  But Amber thought she was very much in the present. That woman had wounded him deeply. Maybe as deeply or more deeply than Tom had wounded her. Certainly deeply enough that he was considering marriage to her. It wasn’t the same as asking a total stranger to marry him, but the years had still flowed down the stream with the two of them apart, and did emails and phone calls make up for face time?

  “I loved her,” he finally said. “Or at least I loved the woman I thought she was. Who can tell the difference? But it’s over.”

  “Except that she’s evidently still mad at you, according to your friend Hope. Maybe it’s not over.”

  “It is for me,” he said flatly. A spark appeared in his eye. It seemed he didn’t like being questioned as if he were on the stand. What judge would?

  She could have laughed if she hadn’t been so concerned about him. And herself, too, but right now he was at the center of her worries.

  Then he said something that struck her deeply. “I can honestly say that I think I know you better than I ever knew Ellie. All the conversations over the years... I know your moral compass. I know a lot about what drives you. I think you know me as well. Marriage is always a risk, Amber. Nobody can honestly promise that the vows will last forever, that the love will last forever. I see it in my courtroom all the time. So love isn’t the only reason to get married. In fact, there may be better reasons.”

  She had to admit that was a novel idea to her. At least he wasn’t trying to persuade her that he was in love with her. She wouldn’t have believed it. In lust? Oh, yeah, they both were. But that was a long way from love.

  “Anyway,” he said, “I’m not withdrawing my offer. It might benefit us both...or not. Think about it. I could have us married by noon tomorrow, we could have a long engagement or we could just continue as we are for as long as you need and want. Your decision.”

  Which did nothing at all to help her parse through what had happened. What had propelled him to this offer? She looked at him and realized he was studying her, almost drinking her in. She could see the hint of passion in his expression, and her own body responded to it. Maybe if they just answered that need, everything else would become clearer.

  But she knew one thing for certain—she didn’t want him to take her under his wing the way he had during law school. If they were to move forward in any direction, she had to be an equal.

  Oh, God, this was all a mess. He was a natural caretaker. A natural knight on a white horse. She’d seen it before. But she wasn’t some helpless miss who needed rescuing. Yes, she needed help at the moment, and he was providing it. But that wouldn’t be forever.

  But right now...hell, it sounded so good to her. And she knew it would help protect him from the ugly gossip. Oddly enough, she wanted to take up her lance in his cause as well. She wondered if he even guessed that.

  She almost smiled. Two knights-errant, charging forward. Each wanting to help the other.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe there were better reasons for marriage than love.

  “Sorry,” he said finally. “I told you just to think about it. I’m not trying to pressure you one way or the other.”

  “Assuming arguendo,” she said, using a lawyer’s familiar Latin term to indicate a hypothetical, “that we marry. You’ve told me what you’d like to give me in terms of security. But what exactly would you expect from the arrangement?” She hoped she sounded clinical, because she was feeling anything but. Marriage. While it terrified her, it also meant that they’d share a bed, something she’d wanted to do with him for a long time. An old desire that had been growing larger since her arrival, despite everything else.

  He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and regarded her steadily. “I’m going on thirty-eight years old. I live in a small town where there aren’t any marital prospects that have caught my attention. Ellie’s been the only one, and that was a helluva mistake. Then there’s you. I think we’d have a chance to build something that would last. And frankly, Amber, I’d really like to have a family. The older I get, the more I seem to want it. Not that I’m trying to pin you here. I mean, I get that you might want to go to a practice elsewhere, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t still have time together, here or wherever. The point, I guess, is that I’m sick of a solitary existence, and you and I have been friends for such a long time...well, I’d like to keep you rather than lose you. Like I said, I’ve always wanted you. That hasn’t changed. I’d like to give it a try.”

  She thought over what he was saying. Wyatt, ever logical and truthful. He’d admitted he was lonely. Her trip here had awakened feelings long left behind for both of them. Whether they were enough...

  She knew one thing for certain, though. Desire was muddying these waters. They’d both think more clearly once they’d satisfied it.

  Without another thought, she rose from the chair, dropped the shawl and went to sit in his lap, twining her arms around his neck.

  “So, Wyatt,” she said quietly, “make love to me now.”

  He didn’t reject her, but wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Then, gazing into her eyes, he said, “Why? Why now?”

  “Because the smoldering between us is getting in the way of rational thought. I want to be sure neither of us is considering this for the sake of sex.”

  He continued to study her face, as if he were looking deeply into her being. She felt her heart racing, her breaths coming rapidly, her body turning into warm honey. And through it all an almost painful hope and expectation. Like teetering on a cliff edge, not knowing if she’d fall or find solid ground, but ready to fly.

  He leaned in, taking her mouth in the gentlest of kisses. She let her head tip back, begging for more as her heartbeat seemed to strengthen in every part of her. Her thighs instinctively clamped, trying to find the answers she didn’t yet have.

  Then, slowly, gently, he eased her off his lap. Disappointment crashed through her, and her eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

  “I’m going to lock up the house,” he said quietly. “My bedroom is at the far end of the hall from yours. If you still want this, meet me there.”

  Crashing disappointment transfigured into amazing exhilaration and nervous hope. Yes. Oh, yes. She turned and headed for her room, filled with anticipation.

  Chapter Nine

  Wyatt didn’t move for several minutes. He closed his eyes and considered what he had done and what he was about to do. It had seemed like such a logical solution for both of them: both of them lonely, her in trouble, him lacking things he wanted, a marriage that could give them both what they needed, at least right now.

  Love didn’t guarantee a successful marriage. Nothing could. So marrying for other reasons wasn’t necessarily any riskier.

  He had feelings for her, he just didn’t know what kind. Protective, yes. Friendship, yes. Love? Who knew? It seemed too soon.

  Oh, hell, he thought, rising. She was right. Once they’d made love, things should become clearer one way or another. The smoke would turn into fire, then die down.

  Maybe then they could both really decide what they needed, and not just what they wanted.

  It was crazy, all right, but even Wyatt Carter sometimes did crazy things, like racing a motorcycle around windy mountain roads, like off-roading in his ATV a little too fast. Like going to Afghanistan with the JAG as an invest
igator, a task for which he’d been required to take quite a bit of field training. He’d volunteered for that one.

  So for all he presented a staid facade, there was a bit of wildness in his nature, and he guessed it was exerting itself now.

  Shaking his head, he checked the few doors and windows that might have been opened at some point, then headed up to his room, half hoping that Amber would be there, half dreading that she wouldn’t.

  It was as if a puzzle from long ago was about to be completed. Maybe all these years part of him had been waiting for this woman. Who the hell could tell now? But he also knew from experience how rarely reality lived up to the dream.

  This could destroy everything they’d managed to keep over the years. One way or another, it was certainly going to answer a question they’d both apparently had for a very long time.

  * * *

  Amber wasn’t in his room. He looked down the long hallway and saw her closed door. His insides squeezed with disappointment. He seemed to remember that she had been the one who had sat in his lap and asked for lovemaking.

  Sighing, telling himself he was overreacting to what was probably a good bit of common sense on her part, he stripped and stepped into his large private shower, washing the day away with hot water.

  Oh, hell. He’d been ham-fisted about everything. Where were the hearts and flowers? The dating? The romantic interludes that were supposed to lead up to this? God, his offer had been so logical. What woman wanted a marriage proposal that sounded more like a merger?

  Then, when he should have swept her into his arms and made passionate love to her on the rug, on the sofa...he’d coolly collected himself, mentioned locking up and told her to come to him if she still wanted this.

  Cold-blooded. Stupid. Trying to give her space to change her mind, but he doubted she wanted that space or she wouldn’t have so boldly sat on his lap.

  As he toweled off, he wished he could kick himself. Wyatt Carter hadn’t always had the temperament of a judge. Yeah, he’d never been one to leap easily into the deep end about anything, but this? These were the actions of a cold fish. Was that what he’d become? Hiding behind walls of restraint and logic? Because he seemed to be hiding.

  He hadn’t been like this with Ellie. Had she really scarred him so deeply that he’d locked his heart away?

  Damn, he needed to apologize to Amber. If she hadn’t felt offended before, she was probably rapidly getting there.

  With a towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped out of his bath into his bedroom, and the first thing he saw was Amber. She stood there in a yellow terry-cloth robe, her hands fisted in the pockets.

  “Amber...”

  “Wyatt...”

  They both spoke at once.

  She immediately fell silent. Her chin was up, but this woman who had spent years wending her way through tough law firms and tough cases looked very uncertain right now.

  He cussed.

  “Wyatt?” She blinked. Well, of course, he didn’t swear often, and never that word.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he crossed to her, tugged one of her hands out of her pocket and drew her to the edge of his bed. “Please sit.”

  She did, then he sat beside her, reclaiming her one available hand.

  She waited, looking at him.

  “I just realized I handled this all poorly,” he told her. “I offered marriage like a contract, and when you wanted to make love I sent you on your way while talking about locking up the house. In the romance department I get a great big goose egg.”

  She shook her head a little. “I didn’t ask for romance. At least I don’t think I did.”

  “Well, you deserve it.”

  She astonished him then, her expression becoming almost ferocious. “I had enough romance for four months, even if it was only over lunch hour. Flowers, candies, fancy foods, the finest hotel and promises of a future. I was dazzled, all right. Look where it got me. All of that can be faked. I don’t trust it. You were honest. You gave me an option and you didn’t conceal it in roses. If you had, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

  Surprise rocked him again.

  “I’ll bet,” she said more quietly, “that Ellie made you feel the same way. I know you’re capable of the romantic part. You could do it if you wanted. But it’s all... I don’t know. Not as real as what you said to me today, at any rate. You were honest. That allows me to be honest. Thank you.”

  He certainly hadn’t expected this, but he admired it. “Somehow I should have handled this better,” he said, repeating his earlier thought.

  “But how?” she asked. “We’re friends. We’re honest. You don’t need to woo me, and I don’t need it. God, Wyatt, I have a crying need for honesty. Just honesty.”

  He could understand that. He rather needed it himself after Ellie. But still...

  She went on. “Maybe our courtship has been happening over ten years. I don’t know. But you did absolutely nothing wrong today, and I want you to understand that. Believe it. You offered me what seemed like a perfectly logical solution to the problems I’m facing, to the things you want in your life. What the devil could be wrong with that?”

  Plenty, he thought. “You asked if I’d gone mad and called me Don Quixote,” he reminded her.

  She flushed a bit. “Well, if you were dashing to my rescue alone...yes. But if there’s something you need in a marriage...well, then it might be mutually beneficial.”

  Again he had the feeling that this was too damn clinical. They were both being cold about something that shouldn’t be cold. Except treating this as a problem to be solved seemed to be the only place either of them could go comfortably.

  Sighing, feeling as if they needed to find a way to break through to real emotions, the places they had both locked away, he drew her down on the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around her. He felt good when she hugged him back. Raising his hand, he stroked her dark hair.

  “You’re beautiful. You always have been.”

  “I’m older, and sometimes it shows.”

  He smiled faintly. “Not to me. You’ve grown into a marvelous woman. Maybe I’m glad I waited all these years.”

  She caught her breath then smiled. “There’s that romance.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “Some things are well worth waiting for. I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

  She wiggled a bit and brought her mouth to his, giving him a butterfly kiss. “Let go, Wyatt,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Let the passion out.”

  Now it felt right, he thought, then utterly gave up thinking as he loosened the belt of her robe and tossed his towel aside. As he pushed the terry cloth back from her body, he found she exceeded his dreams. One would never have guessed from the clothes she chose to wear just how perfect and generous her figure was. She concealed it well, and probably deliberately, for professional reasons.

  But she proved to be a cornucopia of delights to explore. Bending over her to kiss her again, plunging his tongue into her mouth, he began to run his hand over her, from behind her ear, which made her shiver, then down over her smooth throat.

  “Oh, Wyatt,” she breathed, and to his delight he felt her hands begin to caress him.

  Yes, the time was right. Then long-denied passion swamped him.

  * * *

  Amber felt a wild, demanding urge to strip away all the restraints from this man. She wanted to see the raw side of Wyatt Carter, not the judge, not the lawyer, not the mentor. She wanted the part of him he had cloaked so carefully over the years.

  She never doubted it was there. She had occasionally caught flashes of it, quickly tamped. She ran her hands over his shoulders, reveling in his smooth skin and the surprising strength she felt there. This was not a man who spent all his time at a desk or on the bench. She could feel his muscles bunchi
ng as he leaned over her, pillaging her mouth with a hunger that amazed her and then swamped her.

  So good, she thought hazily. No kiss had ever felt like this, no tongue had ever been so welcome inside her mouth. Then he pulled his mouth away, and a mewl of protest escaped her, only to be silenced as his lips and tongue trailed downward, following the line of her throat as shivers ran through her, then trailing lower toward her breast.

  She caught her breath, but he held her suspended in anticipation as his tongue trailed slowly, deliciously over the mound, avoiding her nipples. Just when she thought she could bear no more, he found one engorged nipple. The brush of his tongue over it felt like a lash of fire, and the flames ran straight to her center, deepening the hungry ache there. She needed...had she ever felt such need?

  Surprising her, he moved suddenly, turning her one way then the other as he yanked the robe from her. No gentleness there, and she wanted none. When she reached for him, he caught her hands and pinned them to her sides.

  “You’re mine tonight,” he muttered.

  His. Oh, yes...

  His mouth trailed lower, running over each rib and lower to just above the thatch between her thighs. Then back up it trailed until it found her other breast. This time it was no lash of the tongue. He drew her deeply into his mouth, sucking on her with a power that was almost painful, a power that seemed to want to draw her all the way inside him. Helplessly, her hips rolled, but he ignored the silent plea.

  Just when she thought she could bear no more, he moved his mouth again, brushing a kiss on her lips, then slipping slowly downward. He never released her hands, holding her prisoner to his wishes, holding her prisoner to his desires and her own needs.

  In taking control from her, he left her feeling strangely free, like a soaring bird. All she could do was experience whatever he chose to give her.

  She gasped when he flipped her over. He caught her hands over her head and began to sprinkle kisses over her back until he reached her bottom and kissed her there. The sensation was so exquisite, so new, so exciting that moans began to escape her.