A Pregnancy Scandal (5 page)

Mute, she stared at him. No expectation for Alex to morph into the perfect politician's wife, either? Part of her was grateful and wanted to respond to such grace positively. Of course she'd try not to embarrass him. Why wouldn't she?

The other part of her was a bit suspicious. “I don't have to dress up if I don't feel like it?”

“The only thing you need to worry about is whether you want to do this with me. Whether you want our child to have the life I've been describing.”

Oh, no, there was so much more to consider. Speaking of which, would she have to live in Washington if they got married? What about her career? “What about my company? I have a job. I can't walk off and leave it.”

Fyra was everything to her. Surely he wasn't saying she needed to give it up. Not only did she owe Cass for giving her a chance, she loved her job.

“That could be a challenge. I won't lie. But we'll figure something out. We have to,” he said.

“It's not the life either of us imagined,” he continued. “It's not going to be easy. But it will be worth it for our baby and for us personally. We'll be doing it together. As partners operating under an up-front agreement but also as friends. Like we've been all along.”

His smooth voice drew her in, convincing her. She might have to do some things she didn't like, but the rewards for their child would outweigh her discomfort.

And there were other potential benefits she couldn't help but wonder about.

“What about sharing a bedroom?” she murmured, and the temperature in the close confines of the limo shot up instantly as they watched each other, the question hanging between them.

“Ah, now, that's the part of this discussion I was waiting for.” He tilted his head a touch closer. Almost within kissing distance. “I'm in favor of whatever you decide. But I would have a very difficult time keeping my hands off you behind closed doors. Even if we didn't share a bedroom.”

“Really?” That hummed through her pleasantly. Did Phillip find her that attractive? There was something delicious about being wanted, especially by a man like Phillip. He'd rocked her with his careful attention, both in and out of bed. Imagine if that continued.

“Oh, are you confused about that?”

Without warning, he pulled her forward, almost hauling her into his lap. His mouth hit hers in a searing kiss that spoke of his desire far more clearly than words ever could.

The promise bled through his fingers, into her skin, heating her as she fell into this kiss. As her senses exploded with Phillip. He kissed her masterfully, purposefully.

When he pulled back, she nearly wept.

“I'd like an intimate marriage in every sense of the word,” he rasped, clearly as affected as she was.

She'd wished for something to fill the void in her life—perhaps she'd found it. She just couldn't help but think she'd bitten off more than she could chew.

“With the exception of love,” she reminded him. Just to reiterate the ground rules.

“Right. I had that once and I'm not a believer in second chances.”

That was a hard line to take. Second chances were sometimes the only thing standing between a person and the rest of her life. Without a second chance, Alex wouldn't have been afforded the opportunity to start over after nearly ruining her life.

What if he didn't like the fact that she'd needed a second chance? That had to be hashed out now, not later.

Nodding once, she took a deep breath. “Then there's something you need to know before you make a final decision about marrying me. You could find this out for yourself with your connections. But I want you to hear it from me. When I was fifteen, I was arrested and convicted of theft. I got probation and my record was sealed. But the media might find a way to dig it up if my husband is running for president. I thought you should know.”

Phillip's expression didn't change. “Is that the extent of your record?”

“Yes.” Because it was the only crime she'd got caught doing. Not because it was the only illegal thing she'd ever done.

“I'll get my publicist on it immediately. If we talk about it up front, we can play it off as youthful indiscretion. This is exactly why marriage is important for you, too. If I can forgive it, the world can, too.”

He made all of this sound too easy. She had a feeling he'd knock down any argument she threw out because he'd decided what he wanted and planned to wear her down until she accepted the inevitable. “I never really had a choice about marrying you, did I?”

He flashed a grin. “Of course you do. Would you like some time to think about it?”

No, they could debate this to death or get started on the rest of their lives. “Where do I sign?”

That got a genuine laugh out of him. “We can let our lawyers handle that. In the meantime, we have a wedding to plan.”

The idea exhausted her. Other women must love that kind of thing, but a wedding? How fancy did it have to be? Maybe they could elope. “I'd rather eat some toast and take a nap. Don't you have people who can handle a wedding?”

His eyes glowed as he smiled. “Absolutely, if that's your preference. Let me take care of everything. You pick out a dress and show up.”

That sounded so nice. No picking out floral arrangements and visiting venues for the reception? Senator Edgewood had her vote. He really was making this easy on her.

She had a feeling that might not last. Especially since she had a suspicion he'd glossed over every single one of her objections for a yet-to-be-established reason. He needed her. Why remained to be seen.

* * *

Music rang out in the sanctuary, signaling the start of the ceremony. Phillip trained his eyes on the double doors at the rear of the Methodist church north of downtown Dallas where his parents had been members for thirty years. He hadn't seen Alex in over a week and for some odd reason it had put a hitch in his stride.

This wedding served a purpose. It wasn't supposed to be sentimental. Or emotional. It was a compromise. He and Alex had a deal to be partners in raising their child and they'd agreed it made sense to be legally married. She was okay with the fact that he wanted to stay loyal to his love for Gina. He was okay with her lack of social skills.

Nerves shouldn't be a factor. But as he waited for his bride to make an appearance, he couldn't call this jumpiness under his skin anything but nerves.

In the next few moments, Alexandra Meer would officially become Mrs. Edgewood. Not only was she about to become his wife, in less than seven months they'd be parents. It was mind-boggling.

The doors burst open and the first woman in lilac solemnly paraded toward him. Dr. Harper Livingston, the genius scientist behind Formula-47, the product for which Alex's company needed FDA approval, was followed by a second woman in lilac. Trinity Forrester, Fyra's chief marketing officer, cut quite a figure with her angular black hair and stilettos. CEO Cassandra Claremont glided down the aisle next, her gaze fastened firmly on the man to Phillip's right, her fiancé, Gage Branson. Gage had been the only person Phillip would have asked to be his best man, considering his cousin was the one who had introduced him to Alex.

In a marriage based on appearances, no detail was too small.

And then Alex walked into the room and his heart thumped once, then paused for the longest, strangest skipped beat.

Alex had selected white for the occasion, but the minimalist design allowed the woman to shine through. Phillip couldn't tear his gaze from her beautiful face, which had the lightest smattering of color in deference to the photographs that would be taken later. The uncharacteristic makeup only enhanced the natural beauty of the woman he had somehow convinced to marry him.

He still didn't know what had tipped the scales. Still hadn't fully taken a deep breath until this moment, because what if she changed her mind? He refused to consider any of this an emotional investment. He needed a wife, and it would be twice as difficult to find one willing to step into a marriage of convenience after the press finished crucifying him over his purported family values while his illegitimate child lived with a single mom.

Five hundred guests, ranging from the United States secretary of state, to a French hotel magnate, to Alex's mom, watched as Alex floated down the aisle toward him. She reached his side and he took her hand. She was trembling.

“You okay?” he whispered as the minister started the dearly-beloveds. Instantly, all thoughts of plans and campaigns and ground rules vanished as he focused on Alex.

“No.” All the color leached out of her face, which became a remarkable match for her dress. “Will you be really mad at me if I throw up on that suit?”

Morning sickness was taking a huge toll on her, which was part of the reason they hadn't seen each other—she'd been too ill to fly and he'd had to burn the midnight oil in Washington in order to take off a few days for the wedding.

“Well, it's not what I'd envisioned for our vows,” he acknowledged wryly. “But perhaps appropriate under the circumstances.”

“Don't make me laugh,” she muttered as a smile tugged at her mouth. “I'm trying to keep down the four bites of toast I had for breakfast. Remind me again why we couldn't elope?”

The minister launched into a series of lines that Phillip's mother had painstakingly selected after being given the job. Their immediate family and close friends knew Alex was pregnant, but they'd kept it secret otherwise. At only ten weeks, she wasn't showing yet, so there was no reason to eclipse the wedding with baby news.

“Because,” Phillip said out of the side of his mouth. “Pomp and circumstance are part of the deal.”

She moaned. “I don't see how it's fair that I have to both carry the baby and smile at guests.”

“I'll tell you what. After the birth, I'll carry the baby. How's that for fair?”

The minister cleared his throat. Phillip glanced back at the man, having completely lost track of the ceremony. “I do.”

Nodding, the minister repeated the questions to Alex, who also said, “I do,” and after sliding their respective rings on each other's third fingers, it was done. They were married with none of the emotion of the first time he'd done this.

It was a relief. Alex had distracted him from thinking about Gina from the moment she'd appeared, and he was oddly grateful for her good humor in the face of not feeling well. He'd thought this day would be difficult to get through, but Alex had turned that on its head by holding a conversation during the ceremony.

No expectations.
It was a strange mantra for marriage, but for an unconventional agreement like theirs, it worked. So far.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Phillip whispered in case she didn't want anyone else to know her stomach was upset.

She scowled. “Of course. It would seem weird if you didn't.”

But then it was weird anyway because five hundred people were watching. Would they know this marriage wasn't a loving union? That was one aspect he and Alex hadn't discussed—if they were going to act like a traditional married couple in front of others.

Since there was no time to chat about it, he turned her away from the crowd so they had a measure of privacy.

When he cupped her face, she smiled and it filled him from the inside out. Suddenly, it didn't matter who was watching. He kissed her and she opened underneath his mouth. For a moment, he soaked in the perfection of how this woman he'd just married fit against him.

He hugged her deeper into his embrace and let the one part of himself that wasn't off-limits to her have free rein. His body reacted like it always did whenever Alex got within a few feet. Which wasn't necessarily appropriate for a crowded church, any more so than it had been for a crowded party. There was no giant statue here, so he reluctantly let her go to the sound of applause and swelling music.

Breathlessly, she regained her balance, her lips red and bare of lipstick. Funny, he'd got to the point where he preferred her without makeup now that he had a basis for comparison.

Phillip took his bride's hand and they walked down the aisle together as husband and wife. With the wedding out of the way, it was all downhill from here.

Five

P
hillip couldn't concentrate on the guests he'd invited to the reception.

Alex had invited some friends and family but the majority of the guest list consisted of movers and shakers from around the globe: people who benefited his future campaign for the White House. People he owed favors to for previous campaigns. People he knew from Congress. Old friends of his parents, who happened to own most of Dallas. Every one of the attendees on his guest list had significant power and influence.

This wedding wasn't a joyous celebration of the union between two lovers, like the one he'd shared with Gina, but a carefully orchestrated event designed for a future presidential campaign. He had to think about it that way, or he wouldn't get through it. Or at least that had been the plan.

But instead, all Phillip could think about was his new wife, who had fled to the bathroom almost thirty minutes ago. She'd been trailed by three women in lilac, so he knew she was in good hands. But not
one
of them could be bothered to take two minutes and bring him word that Alex was okay?

He was worried about her. The baby was half his and he couldn't carry it, but he could at least be there to help ease Alex's discomfort. Get her water or
something
. Why hadn't she asked for him?

Senator Galindo breezed by with her husband, the CEO of a telecommunications company. They chatted for a moment and then Alex joined their group, a small smile in place.

Finally, he could assess her condition for himself. Make sure she didn't need to go home and lie down. She looked so uncomfortable that his heart twisted. He hated that she felt this awful at what was supposed to be their debut as a couple.

Not much point in marrying a wife to stand by his side who wasn't able to, or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. Sternly. But he didn't care about the loss of his plus one at a key networking event when his wife's face was tinted a hue best suited for frogs.

“Alex, I don't think you've met Senator Ramona Galindo.” Phillip forced himself through the niceties of introductions all around, even though Alex's distress was clear. But he didn't want to be rude, and Alex wouldn't have come back from the bathroom if she wasn't okay. Would she?

Alex shook hands with the senator and her husband. “Thank you for coming.”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” Ramona said brightly.

“I wasn't paying attention,” Alex admitted. “Also, I was up at the front, so I didn't have a great seat.”

Senator Galindo chuckled nervously, clearly opting to take the comments as a joke. “I know what you mean. I remember very little about my ceremony. It went by in a blur.”

That gave her husband and Phillip permission to smile through the awkwardness. Next time, maybe he should step in, smooth things over. Or not. Alex had to learn to navigate his world in her own way. He'd offered help and it was up to her to take him up on it.

Phillip bent his head toward Alex to murmur in her ear. “Feeling better?”

Her hair had been twisted into a curly fountain at her crown. With the curve of her neck exposed, the style lent her an elegance he liked. When Alex went all out, she was breathtaking. It was probably a good thing she didn't do it very often because he was having a hard time remembering all the reasons this marriage should be cold and clinical.

“Not really,” she whispered back. “How soon can we leave?”

They'd talked about the importance of the reception at length and she'd agreed to the big, formal party. And he needed to treat this whole affair like a business event to keep things on an impersonal plane. But he couldn't make her stay if she wasn't feeling well. “Is it that bad? I was hoping to introduce you to some people.”

“I drank ginger ale, ate some crackers and lay on the divan while Cass sponged my neck with a cold cloth. Nothing helped. But I came out anyway because I thought I'd been gone too long. I know what my job is today. It's just harder than I'd expected it to be.”

The pointed comment wasn't lost on him. She was trying and it wasn't her fault the pregnancy was playing havoc with her insides. “I'm sorry. I wish I could trade places with you. The morning sickness will pass soon, right?”

The band struck up the song the wedding planner had told them would be reserved for their first dance. It was a photo-worthy, crowd-pleasing moment that Alex hadn't wanted to include. She wasn't keen on the idea of being in the spotlight as they danced solo. But he'd talked her into it, just like all the other aspects of the wedding she'd balked at.

“Not soon enough.” She glanced toward the band. “Aren't we supposed to be dancing?”

Alex was being such a good sport that she deserved an out if she wanted it. “We don't have to.”

“Oh, but it's our wedding.” She bit her lip in that way he'd come to find adorable. “I'd like to try. If you're okay with that.”

The bravery in her statement hooked Phillip in a place inside that shouldn't have been affected by simple words. How did she slide right past all his internal barriers? No other woman had ever done that. Of course, he hadn't married anyone else.

Maybe the solemnity of the occasion had got to him more than he'd realized. That was probably it. The difficulty of pushing back his emotions was messing him up. But it was only fair to Alex that he didn't spend the day dwelling on Gina. What else was he supposed to do but shut down everything inside?

“Sure. But you have to tell me if you need to stop. I'd rather not make our wedding memorable for the wrong reason.”

Looked like he would get to dance with his new wife after all. It shouldn't have been a big deal. He could pretend his internal turmoil had Gina's name all over it, but this dance suddenly meant something to him.

He led Alex to the dance floor, threading through the crowd of onlookers, and honestly, he couldn't pick out one single face he recognized. They all blurred together as he took his wife into his arms and held her close, swaying slowly. She nestled into his arms, closer than appropriate for the style of music. It was supposed to be a ballroom dance that would impress and dazzle. Alex had worried she wouldn't be able to perform. He'd waved her concerns aside.

Right at this moment, he didn't care what anyone thought of either of their dancing abilities. This was their wedding. Like Alex had said. They should enjoy it regardless of the compromises that had led them here, and he planned to.

He spread his hand against the silk at her back and breathed in the scent of sugary pears. It was the same fruity flavor Alex had worn the night they'd made love, and the rub of her body against his woke up the memories in a hurry. Who was he kidding? What had led them here was a completely illogical attraction.

Pulling back a bit, he watched her as something unfolded in her expression. Her color had come back, flooding her cheeks gorgeously. Gone was the slightly glassy sheen to her eyes that had been there since the ceremony.

In its place was something wholly affecting. Wholly sensual.

Her grip on his waist tightened as awareness bled through them both. There was no mistaking the rising heat in her gaze, in her bated breath, radiating from her touch. And there was no way for her to misinterpret his body's reaction to it all, not with how closely she pressed against him.

“You look stunning,” he commented hoarsely, pleased his voice had worked at all.

Her smile lanced through him. “Thanks. I wanted to. For you. It took me a long time to find a dress that wasn't too fancy but was classy enough for your crowd.”

“Sweetheart, in that dress, no one here is classy enough for
you
.”

She laughed softly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Senator Edgewood.”

“Really? That's the most interesting statement you've made all day, Mrs. Edgewood.”

He wanted to roll that name around on his tongue some more. He didn't want it to be strange. There'd been a time when he'd been sure there would never be another Mrs. Edgewood in his life. A time when he'd cried out against the reality of having to find one.

His search had ended with the woman in his arms. He couldn't have done this with someone who had romantic expectations and stars in her eyes. Or worse, a true wife of convenience who fit his criteria to the letter and had as much personality as the paper their agreement was written on.

The real question though—whether he could do this with Alex—remained to be seen.

Her brows lifted a touch. “Oh, yeah? That was better than ‘I do'?”

“They were both great,” he amended as he swung Alex around with a little more gusto since she seemed to have fully recovered.

The evening was looking up. A real wedding night would make all the doubt and difficulties worth it. Solidify their partnership. Give them a chance to bond over their decisions.

The crowd applauded as the number ended and other couples streamed onto the dance floor.

“Is it time to leave yet?” he echoed and drew the laugh from her he was hoping for. “I have a sudden desire to be alone with you.”

And therein lay Alex's danger. Five minutes ago, he'd been focused on the business at hand. Now he couldn't think of anything but taking her home and consummating this unconventional marriage.

She was his wife and he wanted to honor that in every sense of the word.

“That's the benefit of being the bride and groom.” Her face had taken on that pregnancy glow that turned her breathtaking instead of merely beautiful. “We're expected to leave early.”

Well, then. Phillip hustled Alex off the dance floor and they made a round of the room to say goodbye, but it was still a good thirty minutes before they were alone in the limousine on their way back to his house—their house now—for a brief honeymoon.

The moment they settled into the limo, Phillip turned to Alex, about to draw her into his arms. His body ached to pick up where the promises made during dancing had left off.

His wife lacked polish, connections and a comfort among his set. She hated parties and dressing up. The next few months would obviously be a difficult adjustment period for them both as they struggled to find common ground, but right this minute, he didn't care about any of that. When it was just the two of them, there was only passion. Like it had been on the night that had sealed their fate, setting them on this journey together.

At last, he'd have Alex back in his bed. The one place they made sense together. Sex worked between them. He yearned to recapture that connection.

The look at her face in the dim lighting ruined that idea.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “Give me a minute. I don't—”

And then she clamped her lips together, shaking her head, looking decidedly uninterested in the type of evening activities Phillip had hoped were in store.

Based on the burn of regret in his gut, it was probably best to stay dressed and out of bed. Intimacy had only led to complications thus far. Why would tonight be any different? He'd let his guard down, forgetting how important it was to stay detached in light of their agreement.

Phillip sighed. Maybe the Rangers were playing on TV tonight.

* * *

As weddings went, Alex's had left a lot to be desired.

Of course, she'd never sat around and daydreamed about her big day the way other women did. So the disappointment was minimal. Most of it was directed at herself. Phillip's patience was legendary, but even she could see how spectacularly she'd failed at being a politician's wife.

Thank God she hadn't actually thrown up on anyone. When he'd carried her across the threshold of his house, he'd been so sweet. But clearly didn't get the concept of how movement of any kind threatened her stomach.

Finally alone in the gargantuan bathroom attached to the bedroom she and Phillip now shared, she swiped her eyeliner and mascara off. Cass would have a heart attack if she could see Alex treating her skin so casually, but Alex wanted to lie down. Immediately.

Phillip had deposited her on the same bed where they'd given in to the heat between them after his party and wandered off to “give her some privacy.”

She crawled into bed, wondering if she'd put Phillip off the idea of sleeping with her entirely. Obviously sex was out for the evening—certainly not by her choice—but surely Phillip intended to use his bed. Time ticked by. The bed swallowed her, and the masculine tone of the decorations reminded her that this had been solely a man's domain for a long time.

They'd agreed to share a bedroom and she'd thought that would start tonight. Had prepared herself for it. Had reminded herself there would be a necessary adjustment period. After all of that, where was he?

Far, far away from his wife, clearly. Because she'd ruined his opportunities for campaigning at the reception? Was he
that
mad at her?

She must have fallen asleep because something startled her awake sometime later. The dark room had a hush about it that told her she was still alone. And she was wide-awake. Her stomach was strangely settled. Of course.

No better time to feel great than the middle of the night in a new house. She hadn't officially moved in until today, though movers had brought the majority of her things yesterday. Her house was on the market, and as advised by the Realtor, she'd left the furnishings to give it more appeal to buyers. It had felt so weird to leave her house behind, almost fully intact, as if she might return to it after a long vacation. But she wouldn't be returning and it was pretty unsettling to think about new people in her house.

This
was her residence now. The place where she'd raise her baby alongside Phillip. The house itself was over a hundred years old with sweeping colonial accents and artwork that should be in a museum behind glass. Certainly not a style she'd have chosen. And Phillip had three servants who lived in the converted coach house fifty yards from the flagstone side porch that flanked the west wing. Definitely not something she was used to.