Contract Bride

When Reece lowered his hand from the door frame and turned, Leah felt again the heavy ache of longing and love she’d secretly been tortured by for years.

Reece Waverly was a big man, over six foot tall with wide shoulders, muscle-thick arms and long, powerful legs. He’d showered before supper, and the clean jeans and white shirt he wore were still crisp. Perpetually somber and taciturn, his tanned, weather-creased skin made him look rugged and harsh. His bluntly masculine face was made even more dramatic by his dark eyes, black eyebrows, and the formidable set of his strong jaw. The thin slash of his lips carried a hint of ruthlessness Leah had never seen evidence of.

And yet the look of him now was worlds different in every way from the man he’d been when Rachel had been alive. He’d been a softer, less intimidating man, more given to smiles and teasing glances. He’d been more open, more apt to speak since he was a well-read, thinking man who enjoyed being sociable. He’d had a sense of humor and a masculine charm that was irresistible.

But Reece had been on top of the world then, completely in love with Rachel, and looking forward to the birth of their first child.

Leah so missed the man Reece had been—the man she’d felt such guilt for loving—almost as much as she missed Rachel.

A fresh wisp of heartache went through her, and she almost lost her nerve. She had to force herself to make a start.

“Is it still convenient for a talk?”

The dark eyes that had regarded her almost blindly for months were suddenly sharp on her face, and she felt the pressure of that sharpness as they examined every soft feature. But then his gaze met hers and she felt the probe of it go so deep that she got the alarming sense that he’d read her thoughts.

And maybe he had, because his somber expression appeared to harden.

“You don’t ever need an appointment, Leah. I told you that earlier.”

Leah brought her hands together primly at her waist, not really surprised that they were trembling. “You did,” she said gently, “but you looked deep in thought.”

His gaze narrowed the slightest bit. It was clear that he was alert to something in her face and in the way she held herself. Since she was stiff with tension and couldn’t stop the faint tremors of dread that passed through her in waves, it was no wonder he was taking a closer look.

His gruff, “Go ahead and have a seat,” was a relief, since she’d feel steadier sitting. Leah chose one of the wing chairs on his side of the room, and noted that he stayed standing where he was, his back to the patio doors and the rapidly darkening twilight.

As always, he kept himself remote from her. As always, she was careful not to trespass. Leah sank down and rested her elbows on the chair arms then laced her fingers together to let them dangle over her lap. She tried to collect her thoughts, but it was supremely hard to do.

Oh God, if she thought there could ever be a chance for Reece to care for her, she wouldn’t do this. But the utter deadness between them was proof enough that Reece would never feel anything for her. Leah made herself begin with something mild.

“You haven’t given your answer yet about going to Donovan Ranch for the barbecue next Saturday, so I thought I’d tell you that whatever you choose to do, I’ve decided to go.”

Leah saw a glimmer of something shoot through Reece’s gaze, and though wary of it, she managed to keep her voice casual and even.

“I’ve made arrangements for someone to take care of Bobby. Unless you’d like to have a day and an evening alone with him.”

Leah finished with, “If you decide to go, we could either use the sitter or take Bobby with us. There’ll be other children there, so he’d enjoy that.”

“When did you decide this?” The near growl in his low voice gave the clear impression of disapproval.

In all these months, Reece had never once questioned her judgment. He’d often asked her about decisions she’d made regarding the boy, but only to inform himself. He’d never remarked at all on decisions she’d made about her personal activities, so this was unusual.

She nervously tightened her fingers and spoke, careful to make her tone practical rather than critical. “When I reminded you about it last week, you didn’t seem interested.”

A breathless anxiety made a sweeping pass through her insides, and she took another small step toward the subject she meant to open.

“Since you and I aren’t…in the habit of doing things together, I didn’t think you’d mind if I decided to go. As I said, I’ve made arrangements for Bobby that you can control however you like, whatever you decide to do about Saturday.”

Reece’s somber expression had gone stony and Leah felt uneasy. She’d irritated him, but couldn’t for the life of her imagine why. Though Reece’s temper was legendary, he’d never given a single hint of turning it on her or his son. Informing him that she was going to a neighbor’s barbecue seemed too small a thing to provoke him.

And yet the strained silence hung between them and built. It helped a little to keep in mind that Reece was a good man and a fair one, who was as naturally decent as the day was long. She had nothing to fear from a man like him, no matter his temper. She couldn’t have agreed to their bargain, much less adored him for years, if she hadn’t known those things as absolute facts.

The real danger was that he’d somehow find out how much she loved him, and then either reject her feelings outright, or worse, pity her for having them.

“You haven’t got much out of our deal, have you?”

Reece’s question was jarringly direct and a signal that he might have guessed the real reason she’d wanted this talk. The growl in his voice had softened, though his stony expression hadn’t.

Leah sensed something, perhaps regret, perhaps guilt, but she automatically discounted that impression and considered it nothing more than wishful thinking. A longing heart would always see a banquet in a table crumb. Pride roared up to keep her from revealing even a hint of her true feelings.

“I’ve gotten exactly what I bargained to get,” she told him, then made her stiff lips relax a little into a smile. “And I have Bobby. Being able to love and raise him is more than enough.”

Leah tried not to blink at the half-lie in that last part. Though at twenty-four she’d never had more than a hasty kiss on the mouth once by a boy who’d done it to embarrass her, she had the same female longing for affection and intimate tenderness as any other woman, in spite of her inexperience.

“So you’re satisfied with the way it’s been.” Reece’s gravelly words were not a question, but a statement.

Leah caught the cynical gleam in his dark eyes and didn’t understand it. Or why he’d even think to remark on whether she’d been satisfied or not by the way things between them had gone.

The past eleven months had revolved around the boy, the ranch and the polite day-to-day cooperation between a stay at home wife who cared for a house and child, and a rancher who spent hours a day working outdoors or doing paperwork in the den. The emotional sterility between the two of them had been so heart-numbing that Leah often wondered if they were even friends.

“I’m…satisfied we’ve both done what we agreed to do.” Leah cringed inwardly at the small hesitation, but it was hard to face the relentlessness she suddenly sensed in Reece.

It was even harder to maintain eye contact with the dark eyes that seemed to flicker with perception when she was trying so hard to hide the truth, at least the most dangerous truth: her real feelings.

“I remember we talked about more than just protecting the boy when we started this,” he said then.

The reminder completely threw her. She recalled Reece’s remarks on that subject with distressing clarity. It had been in this very room at almost the same time of day that he’d made them.

It was the only time either of them had so much as hinted at the possibly of having other children. Or of personal needs, having sex in particular.

“I reckon sex will be part of this deal, since it’s a marriage,” he’d said, and it hurt to remember the bleak, almost grim look in his eyes, as if he was resigned to the task only because he saw it as a marital obligation.

“Won’t be likely for a time,” he’d gone on, glancing away from her before he’d added, “but we’ve both got needs.”

His low voice had trailed off and she’d got the impression that the thought of sex with any woman but Rachel was not only vaguely distasteful to him, but that he also couldn’t imagine that sex would ever again be something more than a biological function, perhaps to have more children, but mainly as a physical release.

At least he’d not insulted her obvious lack of desirability by rejecting the possibility of ever having sex with her. And because he’d also let her know that he was willing to have other children with her if she wanted them, he apparently hadn’t considered her an unworthy recipient of his seed.

Of course, eleven months had gone by and if Reece had ever had a “need”, she’d never known about it. Which only confirmed the idea that Reece felt so little for her that he didn’t think of her in terms of sex.

Reece’s gruff voice brought her back to the present. “You remember that, don’t you?”

His dark gaze shifted downward to flash quickly over her body. So quickly it seemed almost mechanical. As if it was expected that a man who’d brought up the subject of sex might at least make a cursory inspection to familiarize himself with the physical attributes of the woman he’d suggested it to.

Leah felt her cheeks go abnormally hot with a mix of feminine shame and very feminine indignation. Without so much as a single nonaccidental touch between them in all these months, and no hint of personal affection from Reece, sex was the last thing she’d consider. Particularly when the look he’d just given her had been so clearly obligatory. Not even she was so hungry for love that she’d allow herself to be so coldly used.

“I think we’ve moved past the point where the things we talked about that night might have made sense,” she said stiffly, just managing not to give in to the fiery hurt she’d sustained. “I think you’ve realized that too.”

Her heart was pounding so hard that she felt a little dizzy. Her refusal had set off sparks in Reece’s dark gaze and she felt a corresponding nettle of resentment. It took so, so much to keep her voice even and her words reasonable.