Little White Lies (24 page)

Authors: Kimberley Reeves

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Little White Lies

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Miranda looked down at the hand holding hers. “Doesn’t it bother you that I was capable of being unfaithful? Technically, I suppose I wasn’t. But I didn’t know you weren’t Jack…or the other way around.”

“Look at me, sweetheart.” When her eyes met his, Holt was once again assaulted with a healthy dose of guilt for what he’d put her through. “In all the time I’ve known you, not once have I seen you look at another man the way you looked at me. If I had been honest about my own emotions, I might have recognized those feelings in you. I know why you thought you were in love with Jack.”

Miranda’s lip trembled. “He was so much like you.”

“He
is
me,” Holt reminded her with a smile. “That’s who I am when I’m with you. I love you, Miranda, and I know you would never be unfaithful to me. It was wrong o put you in that situation, so I’m going to give you that technicality because the only man you have ever made love to is me.”

Miranda threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Holt, I’ve been so miserable without you. I didn’t know how I was going to live the rest of my life without you, and every day that went by was worse than the last.”

“I know how you feel, honey, it was the same for me. But it’s over now and we can go home.” He kissed her neck, slowly working his way up towards her lips. “There are just a few more little issues,” he murmured against her cheek.

“Can’t it wait? If you don’t kiss me soon I think I’ll explode.”

He gently pushed her away then got down on one knee and pulled the ring from his shirt pocket. Her eyes followed the glittering diamond as he placed it on her finger. “Marry me, Miranda. I swear I’ll never be dishonest with you again if you just say yes.”

Bursting with love and happiness and a renewed sense of hope, she cupped his handsome face in her hands and leaned forward so that her lips lightly brushed his. “Yes, Holt Devlin, I’ll marry you.” Then she kissed him.

A groan of masculine pleasure vibrated in his chest when she dropped her hands from his face and tugged the ends of his shirt from his jeans. Without taking his mouth from hers, Holt managed to get to his feet and hoist her up in his arms. Moving in what he hoped was the direction of the bedroom, he carried Miranda down a hallway and ducked into the first doorway he came to. She giggled at his grunt of frustration when the room turned out to be the bathroom and flailed her arm to indicate the bedroom was further down the hall.

It seemed an eternity had passed since they had last made love, yet they came together as if they had never been separated at all. His first heavy thrust filled her so completely, Miranda thought she must surely have died and gone to Heaven. He pulled his hips back and drove into her again; possessing her, branding her as his own as each successive thrust brought her closer to the peak. She gloried in the feel of his body moving in and out of her and the whispered words of love that now flowed so effortlessly from his lips.

It didn’t last long, but she hadn’t expected it to. There was too much pent up emotion, too much raw desire that needed to be unleashed for them to prolong the inevitable explosive ending to their love making. Rocked by a series of convulsive spasms, Miranda could do nothing but cling to his broad shoulders as he rode her through the waves of pleasure to find his own shuddering release. As the warmth of his seed shot up inside of her, an unbelievable joy simultaneously surged through her heart, for there was no longer any doubt that the baby she carried was Holt’s.

Lying in his arms afterwards, she wondered how long she could hang onto her secret and how he would react once he knew. There had never been any discussion of children, and though she knew Holt gave thousands of dollars in donations each year to children’s charities, she’d never actually asked if he was merely being generous or if he genuinely liked kids.

As much as it hurt to think about, whether he wanted this baby or not, she could never give it up. If it meant living her life without Holt, she would just have to come to terms with it because her own needs would always be secondary to the baby’s.

Drawing in a slow breath, she forced herself to say, “Holt, there’s something I need to tell you.”

He smiled in the darkness and pulled her closer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, there’s plenty of room at the ranch. It’s a monstrous thing with three stories and more rooms than I know what to do with.”

“I’m not worried about there being enough room for me.”

His hand moved from her hip to her belly. “Did I forget to mention what a turn on it is to make love to you knowing you have my baby growing inside of you?”

Miranda sprang up on one elbow. “You knew? But how? I just found out myself and I never told anyone, not even Bri.”

“I have my sources.” He pulled her back down into his arms. “I never would have given up looking for you,” he said fiercely. “And once I found out you were pregnant, it seemed even more urgent to bring you home.” He turned on his side and though her face was hidden in shadows, he knew she was smiling. “I want this baby, Miranda. I want to get married and have half a dozen of them.”

“That’s a pretty tall order,” she giggled.

“We have a life time to fill it,
and
we’ve got a head start.”

Miranda covered his hand with hers. Such strong hands, she sighed, but they could also be so, so gentle. “I was scared. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew there was no chance you and I could ever be together again.”

“Did you honestly think I would desert you and my own child?”

“That was the problem,” she said solemnly, “I didn’t know for sure which one of you was the father.”

Holt shuddered to think how close he’d come to losing her forever. “You weren’t going to tell me you were pregnant, were you?”

“No.”

“Let’s make a pact. No more little white lies, fibs, or half truths.
Ever
. Agreed?”

“Mr. Devlin, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

***

There was quite a stir when she walked down the aisle in the flower garden of Rose Devlin’s country estate. Wearing a billowy lavender gown with a matching floppy hat that nearly obscured her face only gave credence to the stories that had been circulating for years. Escorted to the front row by an immaculately dressed Mr. Stanley, aka Jeeves, she lent mystery to the elaborate wedding that had somehow flawlessly come together in a matter of four days. Unable to believe she was actually here, Holt stepped down from the elevated platform and took her hand.

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. “You look radiant.”

Missy Carrington beamed up at him. “Thank you, young man. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to see my granddaughter get married.”

With a relieved sigh, he took his place back up on the platform. He’d been just the tiniest bit fearful that Missy would blurt out something outlandish about making an honest woman of Miranda or thank him for keeping his promise to marry her granddaughter if he got her pregnant. Admittedly, Missy seemed to be on her best behavior today, but he wasn’t counting any chickens until after the reception when the last guest waved good-bye and drove away.

Holt’s attention turned to the maid of honor as Bri began her procession down the aisle. She was lovely in a pale green dress with her stylishly chic haircut and a vivacious spring to her walk. He supposed she would always stick out in a crowd and that men would forever be falling all over themselves to get to know her. But to Holt, she was simply Miranda’s sister.

In his eyes there wasn’t a woman alive who was more beautiful than the breathtaking vision in white who was now making her way towards him. She looked small and fragile in the old fashioned laced gown, and it made those male dominated protective hormones kick in full force. He would take care of her, he thought fiercely. He would love and pamper her in ways only a husband could and make sure she never wanted for anything.

Miranda passed Bri her bouquet and took the hand that Holt offered her. Her heart hammered in her chest and a soft pink flush colored her cheeks, which was quite a contrast to the wane pallor of her skin that morning when she’d bolted out of bed and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Holt had been right behind her, holding her hair back as she threw up what was left of last night’s dinner, then patiently wiping her face with a damp cloth afterwards. He was going to make a wonderful husband and a kind and loving father.

Miranda’s eyes locked with his and everything else became merely a backdrop to the man standing before her. As if in a dream, they said their vows and I do’s and exchanged rings, then broke into silly grins when the minister pronounced them husband and wife. Holt drew her into him, looking happier than she could ever remember seeing him before.

“Mrs. Devlin,” he whispered, then lowered his head and kissed his wife.

Miranda melted into him, thinking nothing had ever tasted this sweet or felt so right. His lips moved slowly over hers, gradually pressing harder as the passion between them flared and swept them away into a world of their own. This was how a kiss was supposed to be; mind numbing, bone-melting, consuming.

She supposed she should have been embarrassed by the wanton moan that caught and held in her throat, or by the way she clung to his neck when he lifted her in his arms and continued to kiss her all the way back down the aisle. At the very least, Miranda should have been appalled by the way she plastered herself against him as if she couldn’t wait to tear his clothes off and get him into bed. But she wasn’t.

After all, she was the granddaughter of Missy Carrington, and this type of outrageous behavior was not only tolerated by their guests, but expected. As such, Mrs. Holt Devlin did her best not to disappoint them.