She had to hold on to that possibility … and fight for it.
Seven
Alicia woke the next morning feeling stronger—until she caught the thick scent of boudin sausage, frying eggs and steaming chicory-flavored coffee wafting out of the air-conditioning vent.
Obviously Jake had come home. Smiling because she was glad he was home, she sat up. At that slight movement her stomach became hollow and her mouth was suddenly too dry for her to swallow. Throwing her sheets aside, she rushed for the bathroom, intending to splash cold water on her face.
In her haste, she slammed into a low table. The china teacup and saucer she’d forgotten to return to the kitchen last night shattered on the oak floor. With a little cry, she kept running.
After bathing her face, the nausea gradually passed.
Last night to cheer herself up she’d watched a couple of comedies on television, which had eased her depression and caused her to laugh until she’d nearly cried. She’d fallen asleep feeling more hopeful about the future.
At the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing and heavy, male footsteps approaching, she turned slowly.
“Jake?”
“Who else? Are you all right?” he rumbled in his deep, insistent voice.
“Just a touch of morning sickness, but I’m fine. Or at least I will be … soon,” she whispered. “Give me a minute. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Are you naked again?” He sounded hopeful.
“You would think of that.”
“I’m a man. You’re a beautiful woman, who’s now my wife. A woman I have a sexual history with. Of course I imagine you naked. All the time.”
“Beautiful? I haven’t brushed my hair and I’ve got mascara smudged under my eyes.” She groaned.
“I was just trying to make you forget how rotten you feel.”
“Just go away.”
Then he was there beside her with the disloyal Gus Dear close at his heels. The feline devil had the gall to purr as his black tail curled around Jake’s legs and then hers.
“Please leave me—both of you,” she begged even as Jake’s hand against her back and Gus’s silky tail raised goose bumps. “I’ll be okay. Really! Go eat your sausage … and give Gus some tuna or something. Oh, God, tuna!” At the thought of tuna, she fought to swallow.
“So it was the smell of our breakfast that made you feel sick.”
“Partly, but I just wake up that way a lot of mornings.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone last night.”
Jake turned on the faucet, wet a rag and then shut it off. His arms circled her waist gently and he bathed her warm face and lips with a cool rag while Gus’s intent yellow eyes watched them both.
“How did you even know I felt queasy?”
“I heard a sound and wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Probably the cup I broke when I ran in here. I’m sorry—”
“Forget it. I’ll sweep it up in a minute.”
“You must have been very late last night,” she said, finally looking up at him. Where was her pride? Why had she admitted she’d even noticed the hour?
His icy blue eyes were shadowed, with exhaustion she thought, and his dark face looked ravaged.
“Yes, I was late. Your light was out. I didn’t think you heard me come in.”
She wasn’t about to admit that she hadn’t, even though after her comedies she’d lain alone in the dark for hours listening to every sound the mansion had made. How had she missed his return?
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said.
Not for the first time she wondered why he had insisted that they live together if her mere presence was such a torture to him he couldn’t stand to be in the same house with her.
“I didn’t get much sleep because your cat insisted on sleeping with me.”
“You should have locked him out then.”
“I did, but he yowled and scratched at my door until I let him back in. Then he lay on top of me purring for the rest of the night.”
“I tried to coax him downstairs to sleep with me earlier but I’m afraid he insisted on lying in wait for you outside your door.”
“Stubborn creatures, cats,” Jake said.
“Disloyal!” she snapped.
“They know what they want, and they never give up.”
Jake’s hard glance sought her face and then raked her body, causing confused emotions to course through her. Then he smiled. “I have a feeling he’s going to make a real nuisance of himself while we’re married. Funny thing—I sort of enjoyed his company last night. I didn’t feel like sleeping alone.”
If Gus was winning him so easily maybe there was a chance for her ….
A chance for what, you fool? This isn’t a real marriage. Jake’s lost lots of money and his reputation is in shreds. He blames you. Daddy’s been indicted because of him. You can’t forget any of that—ever!
And yet people dealt with crises and moved on, didn’t they?
“I’m all right now, so you can go,” she whispered, struggling to stand.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
The warmth of his hands lingered so caressingly on her arms that she was almost seduced into allowing herself the pleasure of his touch. Then she remembered how he’d cut her at their wedding and left her alone all last night. Shakily, she drew herself up taller and pushed his hands away.
“I know you don’t like me,” she said.
“Is this your perverse way of seeking a compliment?”
“No! Of course not!”
“I think it is, so I’ll have to dream one up.” He scratched his dark head.
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought his quick smile endearingly tender.
“You make it sound like that’s very difficult to do.”
His hand touched the back of her waist gently and then brushed her fingertips. “Not so difficult as you might think. It’s impossible to hate you, cher … knowing that you are carrying my child,” he murmured.
He squeezed her hand. “You were very beautiful yesterday. Okay. Enough compliments.” Then he threw his dark head back and laughed. “Be a good girl. It’s early. Quit looking for trouble. Take a shower and comb your hair. You’ll feel better, and maybe you won’t be so set on bringing out the worst in me—which is fairly easy for you to do—as I’m sure you know.”
Thirty minutes later a freshly showered Alicia walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find her husband sprawled at the table in crisp, pressed jeans and a white shirt, looking much too relaxed and handsome with his cup of coffee as he read the paper.
He’d eaten, washed his dishes and cooking utensils and put them away. So why was her husband, who preferred to avoid her, still hanging out in his tidy kitchen? Surely he wasn’t eagerly waiting for his temporary bride to appear.
Sunshine streamed through the windows, filling the mostly white room with