Sunshine and the Shadowmaster (14 page)

O
ggie threw back his grizzled head and crowed at the diamond-shaped skylights overhead. “See? What'd I tell you? I said he'd do the right thing!” He picked up the decanter of whiskey again. “This calls for a toast.”

“Not so fast, Dad,” Jared cautioned. He eyed Lucas warily. “This is no bunk? You'll marry my little girl? You'll take care of her?”

“Yes, I'll marry her.”

“When?”

“Immediately. We can leave for Reno right away.”

“Well,” Jared said, and ran his hand through his graying hair. “Well, what the hell.” He turned to Heather, his eyes alight with relief and self-satisfaction. “See there, Sunshine? It's all gonna be all right. I said I'd handle this situation and I have. In spades.”

Heather stared at her father, her love for him and her fury at him rising and rolling inside her like angry clouds before a thunderstorm. “Yes, Dad. You really did. You handled it. There's no arguing about that.”

Her father actually smiled. “Well, what's a father for, anyway?”

Heather wondered the same thing at the moment, but she didn't say so. Instead she told him, “Now, if you and Grandpa will excuse us, I'd like a few words with Lucas alone.”

“Not a good idea.” Oggie piped up from his station at the wet bar where he'd found a match and was lighting his cigar. “Get ‘em in the car and on their way to Reno, that's my advice.”

Heather whipped her head around and pinned him with a glare. “I had you brought along to keep Lucas and Dad from hurting each other. The danger of that has blown right on by. Your advice is not required.”

“Whoa, Sunshine.” Oggie gestured grandly with his glass of whiskey, causing a good deal of it to slosh over the rim. “I know it ain't been your day. But don't take it out on your poor old grandpa.”

Heather gave him a look that should have seared him to a cinder right where he stood. “Then stay out of it.”

Oggie contrived to appear chastened. “All right, all right.”

Lucas stepped in. “Heather's got a point. She and I do need a few minutes. Why don't you two wait here? Make yourselves comfortable and we'll be right back.”

“Okay,” Jared said, as if the decision was his to make. “But don't take forever. Dad's right. You two need to get on the road.”

“Heather,” Lucas said. It was the first time he'd spoken directly to her since she'd entered the room. He and her menfolk had locked up her future—all without asking her once what she thought of the way she was going to be spending the rest of her life. “Come this way.” He turned and strode off through a different hall than the one Heather, Oggie and Jared had used.

Though she was the one who'd asked to be alone with him, now it was actually in the offing, she wasn't so sure it was a good idea. But then again, what else could she do? Reluctant but determined, she fell in step behind him.

Lucas entered the second door on the right. He stood waiting for her to precede him, then shut the door behind them both. Heather moved deep into the room, which was like a small living room, with a glass coffee table, two wing chairs and a couch upholstered in a rich brocade of differing shades of green. Through an interior doorway, she could see the corner of a bed with a quilted coverlet, also in swirling shades of green. The walls boasted beautifully framed Japanese prints featuring exotic birds of brilliant plumage twittering away in golden forests of bamboo.

She turned to face him. “Whose rooms are these?”

He was leaning against the closed door, regarding her rather bemusedly. “No one's. It's a guest suite.” He gestured at a wing chair. “Have a seat.”

“I'll stand.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I will.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Did Eden call you?”

“Yes.”

“Did she tell you about—” she had to swallow before she could go on “—the baby?”

“She did.”

“I thought so.”

He made a
tsking
sound with his tongue, a sound that irritated her no end. “Why did that sound like an accusation?”

“Why do you think? Because it was. You knew what this was all about the whole time, but you had to...string it out, let my father and my grandfather make complete fools of themselves—”

His expression grew more serious. “I let them say what they came to say. And I don't think they were fools.”

She looked at him sideways. “Oh, right. Of course you say that now.”

“Only because it's the truth. They love you and they want you to get what you deserve.”

She let out a low groan at that remark. “Right. Meaning what I deserve is you.”

For some reason, he seemed to find that amusing. He chuckled dryly. “What you deserve is a husband, anyway. Someone to take care of you—and the baby.”

“Why are you defending them? My father's acted like some crazed wild man in a bad B movie. And up till now it's seemed to me like you couldn't stand my grandfather.”

“As I said, I think your father did what he thought was best for you. And as far as your grandfather goes, you're right. I never have thought much of him. But lately...well, let's put it this way—I could get used to him.”

Though she was thoroughly exasperated with both Oggie and Jared, hearing Lucas say kind words about them pleased her. She almost allowed herself to give him a smile. But that would have shown weakness, and she was already at enough of a disadvantage in this situation. She schooled her expression into a disapproving frown and kept her mind on the real issue here.

“I don't know why it hasn't occurred to any of you that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and the baby as well.”

His gaze swept her up and down, intimate and probing. All unwanted, she yearned—and remembered. “You look thin.”

“I...”

His eyes were so dark. “Maybe you've missed me?”

Her body felt strange. Shimmery. Prickly and very much alive—And she was losing sight of the issue again.

She pulled her shoulders back. “I'm
fine.
Finding out I was pregnant has been pretty hard for me to take, that's all. I have morning sickness, which is to be expected. I'm eating less and I've lost a little weight. A lot of pregnant women lose weight at first. It's perfectly normal.”

He studied her some more, while she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore her fluttery heartbeat and the slowly spreading warmth in her belly. When he spoke, he sounded matter-of-fact. “Well, it will probably help if you rest more. Now that you won't be working at Lily's, you'll have more time to—”

She threw up a hand. “Wait a minute. Who says I won't be working at Lily's? I have no intention of quitting work for several months yet.”

He remained the soul of reason. “Well, you'll have to quit. You'll be living here. And besides, it's totally unnecessary now for you to hold down some menial job in order to make ends meet.”

Where did he come by all that arrogance? she wondered. Had he worked for years to attain it, or did it just come naturally? Though he lived in a castle and wrote books for a living, sometimes he was so much like her father, it scared her. Heather loved her father deeply, but she'd always known she'd never be foolish enough to fall for a man like him. And yet, here she was, on the verge of being married off to one.

“What's going through that mind of yours?”

“Nothing. Except that I like working.”

He lifted a shoulder. The flowing fabric of his shirt clung to the sculpted muscles underneath. “Fine. After the baby comes, you can look around for something else to occupy your time. But for now, what's the point? You'll be married to me and money won't be a problem.”

Heather dragged in a fortifying breath. It was time he understood that her father and grandfather didn't make her decisions for her. “But that's just it. I'm not
going
to marry you.”

For a moment, his face went blank. And then his cruel, sensual mouth lifted at the corners again. “Oh, yes you are. That's already decided.”

“Not by me. You and my father and my grandpa think you can railroad me into this—though the good Lord knows why
you
would want to, Lucas. You said yourself you're not a marrying man.”

He jumped to his own defense. “Things were different when I said that. Now there's a child involved.”

“Right. And there was a child involved when you married Candace, too. Exactly how long did
that
marriage last?”

He didn't reply, only insisted, “This isn't the same as when I married Candace.”

“It is from where I'm standing. From here, it looks so much the same, it's scary.”

He was quiet, watching her. “What do you want?” he asked softly at last. “Do you want me on my knees? Will that satisfy you?” He moved toward her with that sleek, pantherlike grace that stole her breath and set off alarms all over her body.

She put out a hand. “No. Don't.”

“Coward,” he said, undeterred, still striding forward. “Come on, be straight.”

“I don't—”

“You do.” He took her outstretched, warding-off hand by the fingers.

She gasped at the contact, she shivered—and she burned. All the nights since he'd left her came back to her, all the tossing and turning alone in her bed. Mere memory of the things he had done to her had been enough to banish sleep for weeks. And now here he was, touching her, looking at her, promising things with his eyes that should have shocked her, but didn't. Not in the least.

Instead she hungered. And she yearned.

Something had happened to her. It had started that first night, after Mark disappeared, when she'd put her hand against Lucas's cheek. A new woman had been awakened inside her. She was changed, she could no longer deny it. The simple, small-town girl who had married her high school sweetheart and settled down when she was nineteen to lead a quiet, contented life didn't exist anymore.

She could never go back to the person she had been. With the touch of her hand on this man's cheek, she had changed the very direction of her life.

Heather's blood sang in her veins, the tune as old as time, the words so simple.

More. Again. Please. Again....

He lifted her hand to his lips. “I
have
missed you, Heather. I've...remembered. Have you?” She felt his breath across her knuckles, the velvet touch of his mouth, then the searing, but feather-light scrape of his teeth.

She strove for control.

“Lucas, you can't—”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you have to listen. We shouldn't. My father, my grandpa—”

“They won't bother us. They're not fools.”

“Maybe not. I don't know. I only know that this isn't what I—”

“I did what you said you wanted. I stayed away from you. But that wasn't really what you wanted, was it?”

“I—”

“Was it?”

The answer came. “No.”

“You did miss me.”

“I—”

“Say it.”

“I...missed you.”

“And you want me.” He lifted her chin. “Come on. It's not so hard to say. Three little words. I want you.”

She tried to shake her head, but found herself nodding instead. “Oh, Lucas...”

“Yes?”

The words came. “I want you....”

That did it. He reached for her.

And she was lost. Gone. Sucked under by the hungry tides of her own desire. She swayed toward him, grasping the soft collar of his shirt just to stay on her feet.

He wrapped both hard arms around her, hauling her up against the lean length of him. His mouth opened over hers. And, oh, he tasted wonderful.

She moaned. His tongue came out and met with hers, burning, consuming, toying with her as it set her afire.

Lost, lost,
she thought, and didn't care. Such sweetness could kill, but what a glorious death.

So much better than the gray world she'd been living in recently. She'd been dying for need of him and hadn't even known it. Until now. Until his body was pressed to hers and his mouth was claiming hers and she felt wonderful. She felt reborn. She felt fully, marvelously alive for the first time in two months.

His mouth went roving. His lips blazed a trail of fire along her jaw and down her neck, where he sucked the little pulse there as if he could connect himself to her heartbeat, as if the blood in her body might pass between them, back and forth, a shared river of warm red.

“Say you'll marry me,” he breathed hoarsely against her throat. “Say you will. Say it now.” His mouth seared up over her jaw again and hovered a breath's distance from hers. “You want me. You missed me. Admit it. You'll marry me.”

“Lucas...”

“Just say it. Just say yes.”

She grasped his shoulders, her fingers digging in. And somehow, she found the strength to push back from him a little.

He looked down at her, his eyes stormy and hot. “Heather...”

“No. Wait. Listen to me.”

“I don't want to listen. It's been too damn long. We'll be married by this time tomorrow. Husband and wife.”

“No.”

“Don't tell me no. I won't take no.”

“Listen. I mean it. Listen to me. We need some time.
I
need some time. Our lives are so different. I don't see how we can make a marriage work.”

“We can. We will.”

“We have to talk right now, Lucas. Talk. Not...make love.”

Somehow that seemed to get through to him. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. Then he very carefully set her away from him. He turned, to the arched window on the wall to his right and pulled the shutter back to look out at the night. “Okay. Talk. Say what you want to say.”

His back was to her, but she accepted that. She knew he was listening, just as she knew he was still getting his body under control. Also, it was easier to put her thoughts in order when he wasn't looking right down into her soul with those dark, knowing eyes of his.