Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (2 page)

Carrie tossed the pills in her mouth and chased them quickly with the water. “Twenty minutes until I feel better,” she said. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael set the bottle on the nightstand and went to the foot of her bed to sit. “Can I try some reflexology? It’s supposed to help with the nausea and might make your relax.”

Carrie shrugged. “Sure. Just don’t jostle me too much.”

Michael picked up her left foot and stroked her insole with his thumb.

“Oh God,” she groaned, leaning back and closing her eyes as the tension seeped out of her body one stroke at a time. “That’s amazing. Where did you learn that?”

Michael kept his head down and continued his task while trying to decide how best to answer her in the least incriminating way for him.

“I dated a massage therapist for a while,” he said finally. Having never lied to her, he saw no reason to start doing so.

Carrie opened her eyes to slits and promptly closed them again.

“Sure—of course,” she said flatly, letting the rest of what she was thinking remain unspoken. She’d already voiced her opinion of his dating habits. There was no reason to beat a dead horse, as her grandmother would say.

Michael sighed resolutely, the sound very audible in the quiet. He accepted that Carrie was still upset about the women he’d dated where she worked, but he didn’t have to tolerate her thinking he was a totally bad guy. Because he wasn’t. She had been married when he dated them, and he had barely caught her between husbands this time. Who was she to critique him?

“Maybe I should just make a list of all the women I dated where you work so we can hash it all out once and move on,” he said, not able to keep the hurt out of his tone.

Michael swung both legs up into the bed and pulled Carrie’s left foot snug against his crotch as he turned his attention to stroking the right one.

“You were married, and I dated,” Michael said. “I couldn’t chase a married woman.”

“No—I will admit that you never chased me when I was married,” Carrie said, not adding that the men she’d married hadn’t even left an impression. “But I would never have tolerated that from you anyway.”

After being used and dumped by a younger Michael in college, there hadn’t been enough of her heart left for any man to break. Dating the adult version of him when their paths had crossed again had been totally out of the question and was made more unreasonable by the fact that he didn’t even remember her.

Yet for as long as Carrie had known him, Michael had dated and discarded women without showing any regret. She had watched him repeat the pattern with others, just as he had with her, moving from woman to woman and bed to bed, never realizing they cried and hurt and bled over him. She hadn’t let herself care about what he did enough to be offended by the pattern again until she had let herself be seduced two months ago and ended up pregnant by him.

Despite evidence to the contrary, she really wasn’t by nature a masochist. It just looked that way. She’d handled the crisis in college, and she would handle this one. It wasn't like she didn't have a history of bad judgment concerning him.

“Michael, it honestly doesn’t matter what you did with other women. We've already determined that it doesn’t concern me long term,” Carrie said sadly, not wanting to have this conversation.

“I’ve told you this before, but I’ll say it again. You’re the only woman I want. Every other woman before you was at best practice and at worst a substitute. For the duration of our involvement, every other woman is also completely history, regardless of whether you exercise your full options with me or not. That’s as clear as I can make things. I only care about you right now. You don’t see me grilling you about your ex-husbands, do you?”

“Fair enough,” Carrie said stiffly, not surprised that Michael had no understanding of how she felt emotionally. Why would he? He was a guy who did what he wanted, a guy like most guys she had known.

“How many men do you think I’ve let into my bed, Michael?” she asked.

“The men in your past don’t matter anymore, but you can tell me if you want,” Michael said, unable to keep the defensiveness from his voice. Hell no, he didn’t want to know. He might have to go break something to work off his jealousy.

“There have only been three men, and that includes you,” Carrie said, keeping her eyes closed. “I was raised to believe you married a person before you gave yourself to them physically. That was the reason I hadn’t slept with Tom even though we were technically engaged. You’re the only man I ever slept with that I wasn’t married to.”

Michael said nothing more about the third man that she had intended to marry. That one hurt most because he hadn't even known about him the night he'd spent with her. He kept his attention on his task of rubbing her feet so he wouldn't have to glare at her over Tom.

Plus, he was a little ashamed of himself.

As sexist as it was, Carrie's lack of partners only made her more appealing to him. Knowing that she took sex so seriously told Michael that the connection between them was so strong that she had to be with him. He liked knowing he had at least that much power over her despite her ongoing refusal to date him over the years.

Michael believed Carrie’s story completely when she had insisted that he had been her first, even if he didn’t remember it. But he was definitely aware of how he felt about her now, he wanted to be Carrie’s only sexual partner for the rest of her life. He might not understand exactly why he felt that way or why it was her, but every time he looked at Carrie Addison he wanted her.

“Your discrimination only makes me admire you more,” Michael said, raising his head to meet her gaze, only to find Carrie had closed her eyes to shut him out.

“I accept that it’s not your fault I violated my family’s sexual programming to be with you in college or that I still feel guilty about it,” she said quietly, finally opening her eyes and meeting his gaze directly again. “But I can’t react with a shoulder shrug to your lack of discrimination when I got to watch most of your cast-offs crying their eyes out over you. However, I will make an effort to refrain from sarcasm about it in the future. I'll try to keep my focus just on our present situation.”

While the thought of not hashing out his past dating exploits appealed to him, the thought of Carrie keeping her true feelings inside and continuing to resent him held no appeal at all. Michael had never been afraid of fighting, nor of his emotions. He for damn sure wasn’t going to be afraid of the anger of the woman he intended to make his wife.

He also doubted any woman had cried more than two minutes over him. With most women, Michael had been as casual about sex as Carrie accused him of being, but he had never pretended otherwise. There was nothing wrong with consenting relationships among adults. He did not feel ashamed.

 “You can ask me anything you want. I’ll answer you honestly,” Michael told her. “Carrie, I want our pasts resolved and put behind us whatever it takes. I want you to believe me when I say you’re the one I was looking for and waiting to be with all this time. I wasn't maliciously using those women. Hell, I was just dating. I refuse to let you think I’m the worst man that ever walked.”

“I never said you were the worst man that ever walked. You’re just—you're just not the kind of man I want to settle down with for the rest of my life,” Carrie said firmly, laughing harshly, closing her eyes again. “Give me a break, Michael. You know I can’t turn around at work without running into a woman you’ve slept with there. Hell, Belinda is the only exception so far, and she’s interested in you. She asked me if I was dating you the day you brought me the engagement ring.”

Michael lifted both her feet, held them tightly against his body, and tried to show he loved her with every affectionate stroke of his hands. Carrie wouldn’t look directly at him or meet his gaze, and that hurt. Her fisted hands in the bed covers were another sure sign of her ongoing distress with the subject matter.

Yet as bad as the situation was, he still refused to think of it as being irrevocable or all his fault. Carrie had married two other men, committed herself willingly to them. As far as he had known, she hadn’t even considered giving him a chance before two months ago.

And damn her, he’d for sure had no damn desire for any woman since. Why couldn’t she try to accept that? Michael tightened his jaw but swallowed the urge to fight with her more.

“I have no intention of dating Belinda. I’m sorry about the others and that you have to deal with my ex-girlfriends where you work. Truthfully, I never thought about it being an issue,” he said tightly. “That’s not an apology—just an explanation. You were married when I was serial dating in your company. I never cared how any of the women I dated felt about each other, but I’m starting to see how it could be embarrassing to you in our current circumstances. If I had known our situation was going to ever be possible, I might have been more discriminating.”

Carrie opened her eyes and sighed herself. She could hear in his voice how mad Michael was becoming. Fighting was certainly not going to help them get along. The fighting only made her heart ache and her body crave peace with him.

God, what had she been thinking when she said yes to living with him? Agreeing to stay with Michael for the duration of the pregnancy was the dumbest thing she had ever done in her life outside of getting pregnant in the first place. Still, she had contractually agreed to create the illusion of a legal relationship, and she needed the help during these first months. So she simply had to find a way to live peacefully with him.

“The sickness and the medicine muddles my thinking. As I said before, who you dated doesn’t really matter, or at least it shouldn’t. Forget I mentioned it. I’m sure your old girlfriends will see our marriage as me winning you, rather than it just being a consolation prize for getting pregnant. I’ll survive the gossip. Maybe now they’ll at least stop bragging to me about how great you were in bed.”

Michael set her feet aside and stood. He couldn’t listen to any more without wanting to hurt her in return. As he’d told her before, it wasn’t his fault the women he had dated were indiscreet. It wasn’t like he went around bragging about them. Hell—he didn’t even remember them. Erin was the only one he’d even dated more than once.

But he could certainly describe in vivid detail every single thing he and Carrie had done together during the one night he’d spent with her two months ago. He’d post a damn description on her company bulletin board if he thought it would help their situation. It had always been her that he wanted. Always.

“Just so our stories match, what did you tell Belinda about us?” he asked as quietly as he could, trying not to glare at her closed eyes.

“I told Belinda that you’d asked me to marry you and that I had said yes,” Carrie told him, sliding down into the bed and rolling to her side. “It’s none of her business about the baby.”

Michael clenched his jaw at her back turned to him, but kept his tone soft as he asked the rest of what he wanted to know. If Belinda accepted it, their engagement was going to be common knowledge at Carrie’s company soon. “What did Belinda say?”

“Congratulations and that the ring was beautiful,” Carrie said, her voice fading as her mind floated in the need to sleep again. “I’m sorry I’m fading. This medicine makes me so tired.”

“Yes, but you’ll wake up hungry in an hour. I’ll make you breakfast then,” Michael said softly, walking to the bed and tugging the covers up over her shoulders, anger giving way to feeling sorry for her again.

“Dad may be coming by to pick up some things to take to Jessica’s. He says he’s moving in with her. We’ll try not to wake you,” he whispered, smoothing the covers down her arm.

“Thank you, Michael. The foot rub really helped me. Even the muscles in my stomach have relaxed,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean snipe at you when you’re being nothing but kind. I’m sorry.”

Maybe she was, Michael thought, but it seemed like hell would still probably freeze over before Carrie would change her opinion of him. His frown deepened as her breathing settled.

“I’m glad it helped. Rest now. I’ll see you when you wake up,” he said firmly.

Michael pulled the wet cloths from her as she slipped into sleep.

Chapter 2

Michael was sitting at his kitchen table sipping his third cup of coffee and feeling resentful of Carrie’s bad opinion of him when he heard his father coming through the front door. He got up and went to the kitchen doorway.

“Coffee?” he asked, grinning at the happiness on his father’s face.

“Yes. I’d kill for some coffee. Jessica drinks tea most mornings. I tried to drink that instant stuff she bought for me, but it’s just not the same,” Will said. He took the fragrant cup from Michael’s hand. “Thank you, son. You’re my hero.”

Michael frowned at that and sighed as he tromped back to his seat at the table. “Glad I can be someone’s hero.”

“I thought you did pretty good last night too,” Will said, coming to sit at the chair across from him. “You waded into a couple of screaming, fighting women to save the mother of your child. Then you carried her inside and fed her. Jessica talked about you two for hours after we got home. It took quite a lot to get her attention focused back on us—I mean me.”

Michael laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Please tell me you’re going to marry that woman. I need some good news today.”