Temporary Bride (13 page)

Karen hugged him and replied, "I'd rather talk. Can we sit
down on the couch?"

They cuddled up together at one end of the red velour
couch and Shane rubbed his face in Karen's thick brown hair as he said,
"Was there something special you wanted to talk about?"

She nodded. "I—I want to talk about us. Shane,
I—" She could feel the heat from the flush of embarrassment
that was covering her whole body. She started over again. "I don't like
the way we're living. I want to get on with our marriage. I—I
want to sleep with you." The last sentence sounded breathless and run
together.

Shane's arms tightened around her but he was holding back,
seeming oddly reluctant. "Karen, I—"

She knew he was going to refuse her again and she couldn't
bear it. She cut in quickly before he could go on. "I don't want to
wait."

"Neither do I." His voice was husky. "But, believe me,
it's best if we do. Now please, for my sake, go away. I promise you
that we'll straighten everything out tomorrow."

Karen told herself she should be happy. Shane had said
everything would be all right tomorrow, so why did she have this heavy
feeling of foreboding? Why couldn't she hold back the sobs that shook
her until she finally cried herself to sleep?

She slept late the next morning, after tossing and turning
most of the night, and woke with a dull pain in back of her eyes. A
glance in the mirror showed them to be red and swollen and her face
marked with dry tears. She showered quickly. Afterward she did what she
could to repair the damage to her face with makeup.

She poured herself a cup of coffee in the small kitchen on
the main floor and Mrs. Whitney told her that Shane had gone, but said
he would be back for lunch. She went outside and paced restlessly
around the grounds, wondering where Shane had gone and why he hadn't
wakened her and taken her with him. Why was she so uneasy? Shane had
promised they'd stop this silly pretense of not being married, but he
wasn't here. She wished she had someone to talk to. Taffy had been
given a couple of weeks vacation after the wedding, but she couldn't
have talked to Taffy anyway. She couldn't bear to have anyone know her
marriage wasn't a real one, was never intended to be.

Shane returned at twelve-thirty and Karen ran to greet
him. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her with a hunger that
put all her fears to rest—until she got a look at him. His
face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes;
his shoulders drooped and he looked exhausted. She gasped and brushed a
lock of dark hair off his forehead as she asked, "Shane, didn't you go
to bed last night?"

He shook his head and, with an arm around her waist, led
her into the house. "No, but let's talk about it later. I'm hungry."

They made small talk while Mrs. Whitney served lunch, and
Karen noticed that despite Shane's insistence that he was hungry he ate
very little. When they'd finished dessert Shane suggested they go into
the den, where they could talk. He settled himself in the big leather
chair and looked at Karen, her feet tucked under her on the couch.

"Karen, I understand that before your father died you were
accepted as a student at Vassar College in New York."

She was puzzled. This wasn't at all what she had expected,
but she replied, "Yes. Dad was making the arrangements when his
heart— when he had his heart attack."

"You must be very bright. It's quite an honor to be
accepted at Vassar."

Karen nodded. "I suppose I am, but I studied hard for my
A's."

"Were you excited about going so far away to school?"

She frowned. "Yes, of course. Shane, why are we talking
about Vassar?"

He gripped the arms of his chair, but his voice was calm
as he said, "Because I've decided to send you there. I'm going to have
our marriage annulled and send you to school."

Karen stiffened. She couldn't possibly have heard what she
thought she did. Shane wouldn't send her away—he'd promised!
She stared at him with horror as she said, "No! You can't! I won't go!
I'm your wife—at least until after we have a baby!"

He leaned forward, still gripping the arms of the chair.
"No, Karen. The marriage has never been consummated; there will be no
problem about an annulment. It's the only sensible thing to do! I had
no business getting you into this in the first place. If you only knew
how I loathe myself!"

He put his head in his hands and Karen went to him and put
her arms around him. "Shane, don't do this to me; I know what I'm
doing. I want to be the mother of your son. Please, Shane, don't send
me away!"

He pushed her aside and stood. She watched him, too upset
to speak, as he walked to the window and stood with his back to her.
"It's all settled, Karen; I spoke to the dean. She says they will still
accept you if you get there right away. I've made arrangements for you
to fly out of San Francisco the day after tomorrow."

"Shane!" It was a cry of anguish but he went on as though
he hadn't heard.

"I'll pay all your expenses and give you a monthly
allowance for the next four years or until you graduate."

"But why? Why are you doing this? Just last night you said
you wanted me!" She was fighting back tears.

A muffled groan escaped from Shane as he turned to face
her. "Of course I want you, Karen! For heaven's sake, I'm a normal
healthy male and you're sexy, innocent, and available! That's a
combination that would drive any man up the wall, but, damn it, if I
take you to bed I'll never get rid of you!"

"Get rid of me!" The knifelike thrust caused her to yelp
with pain.

His face was a mask, devoid of emotion, and there was a
certain cruelty in his tone as he said, "Yes, get rid of you. I don't
want a wife, Karen. I told you that. All I want is a woman who will
live with me for a short time and give me a son. And you're not a
woman—you're a child playing at being grown up. You're too
young for adult games and I should have my head examined for letting my
needs warp my judgment."

His words were like a spray of cold water that dried up
her tears and left her gasping with shock. What an idiot she'd been,
throwing herself at him the way she had! She should have known he
didn't want her after the way she'd behaved on their wedding night. His
refusal to sleep with her after that was just his way of easing her out
of a marriage that he realized was a big mistake. It was all her fault.
If she hadn't behaved like such a child when he tried to make love to
her everything would have gone smoothly; she would at least have been
his wife for a year or so. But now she'd spoiled it.

She took a deep breath, trying to still the anguish that
threatened to overpower her. At least she could try to save a little of
her dignity. She wanted to stand up, but she was trembling so much that
she was afraid her legs would never hold her. Shane had turned his back
to her again and was looking out the window. She choked back a sob and
said, "All right, Shane, if that's what you want—I'll go away
to school. It's probably better this way. I'll have the security I
wanted and I won't have to go to the bother of having a baby to get it.
When will we be leaving for San Francisco?"

He still didn't turn around and look at her and when he
finally answered there was a catch in his voice. "I'm glad you see it
my way. I'm leaving now, but you stay here and pack. I'll send Mark
down for you tomorrow. You can spend tomorrow night at the
condominium—I won't be there—and Mark will pick you
up the following morning and take you to the airport."

So he wasn't even going to see her off, tell her,
"Goodbye; thanks a lot; it's been good to know you." She wished he'd
hurry up and leave. She wasn't going to be able to hang on to her
self-control much longer.

"As you wish. I'll be ready when Mark gets here. Goodbye,
Shane—and thank you."

She hid her face in her knees but heard him turn and walk
a few steps toward her. She looked up and their eyes met. He looked
ghastly and she remembered that he'd said he hadn't been to bed last
night. At least this was a decision he'd wrestled with.

He reached his hand toward her as if he might touch her
but then drew it back and said, "Goodbye, Karen," and strode quickly
from the room.

She was still sitting there, too stunned to function, two
hours later, when Mrs. Whitney called her to the phone. The woman's
voice on the other end was crisp.

"Mrs. McKittrick, this is Memorial Hospital in Santa Cruz.
Your husband has been involved in an automobile accident and was
brought here. The doctor has asked that I contact you, and he suggests
that you come as soon as possible!"

The yellow Corvette tore down the highway at a speed far
exceeding the limit as Karen fought to control it. She'd never driven a
car with so much power before and, as usual, it was too big for her.
She had to sit on the front of the seat in order to reach the pedals
comfortably and in her haste she'd forgotten to bring a cushion for her
back.

The nurse had refused to tell Karen anything other than
that Shane had been in an auto accident and was being treated there.
Treated for what? How badly was he injured? Terrible things sometimes
happened to people in automobile accidents. They were torn, and broken,
and crushed!

The car swerved sharply and it took all of Karen's
strength to bring it under control. She'd have to stop thinking and
concentrate on getting there without wrecking this car, too. The
midafternoon traffic was heavy and she had to dart in and out of lanes
to keep ahead of it. It seemed like forever before she finally saw
signs indicating turnoffs for Capitola and then for Santa Cruz. Finally
she spotted a sign that said HOSPITAL and she
prayed that it was the right one. The signs led her through a maze of
streets until at last a large building loomed up in front of her with a
bronze plaque on the front saying, Santa Cruz Memorial
Hospital.

Karen abandoned the car in a no parking zone near the
large front doors and ran inside. The woman at the admission desk told
her that Shane was in Room 316 and she ran up all three flights of
stairs rather than wait for the elevator. Her heart was pounding and
she was out of breath as she walked down the hall looking for the right
room. She knew she should stop at the nursing station and ask if it was
all right to go in, but she had come too far too fast to waste time
now. Room 316 was at the end of the hall away from the nursing station
and she hesitated outside. What would she find in there? How badly was
Shane hurt? Was he conscious? She took a deep breath and pushed open
the door.

The drapes had been pulled over the wide window and the
room was dim. Shane was lying on the bed, which had been raised so that
he leaned back at a comfortable angle. His eyes were closed and there
was a bandage across his forehead but his arms and legs were
unencumbered by casts so he must not have broken any bones.

She walked quietly across the room and stood by the bed. A
lock of his hair had fallen over the bandage and she reached out and
gently brushed it back. As she touched him, his eyes opened and he
seemed to have trouble focusing on her, then he started visibly and
exclaimed, "Karen! What are you doing here?"

Her eyes widened and a sick feeling engulfed her. He
didn't want her, hadn't asked for her, didn't even know she'd been
notified. She sank down on the side of the bed and took his hand and
held it to her cheek.

"The hospital called me, Shane. I came as quickly as I
could."

"Damn." He jerked his hand away. "They must have found
your name on my identification. I'd intended to have Mark notified;
there was no reason for you to know about the accident."

All during the interminable drive from Carmel Karen had
comforted herself with the thought that he had sent for her, had needed
her, but now that she was finally here he was angry because the
hospital had called her. She looked down at her empty hands.

"I'm your wife, Shane. I have a right to know when you've
been hurt."

He turned away from her, wincing with pain at the
movement. "Karen, this whole thing is painful enough as it is. Let's
not prolong it. I explained it all to you before I left Carmel; now,
damn it, go back home and stay there until Mark comes for you."

Karen stood up. She wasn't going to let him get away with
it this time. She wasn't going to be ordered around like a child. She
took a deep breath.

"No, Shane. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay here
as long as you're here. If you don't want me in your room then I'll
wait in the lounge, but I'm your wife and I'm going to stay with you."

He groaned as he turned his head again and looked at her.
His face was ashen and there was a shattered look in his eyes as he
said, "Do you enjoy tormenting me? Now will you stop behaving like a
spoiled child and get the hell out of here! Go home and start packing,
because I intend to see to it that you are on that plane the day after
tomorrow."

She sank back down on the side of the bed and shook her
head. "I'm not behaving like a child, I'm behaving like a
woman—a wife. You're not my father, Shane, and I'm through
jumping to obey your commands. Are you going to punish me all the rest
of my life for what happened on our wedding night?"

Shane lifted his arm and laid it across his eyes with a
weariness that tore at Karen's heart. If he didn't give in she'd have
to. He was too sick to argue like this. His voice shook as he said,
"I'm not punishing you, little one; I'm trying to protect you. You
don't want to give your innocence to me. Save it for the handsome young
knight all maidens dream about. Get out of my life, Karen, before I
ruin yours."

He looked so miserable lying there, so white, his strength
so utterly spent. She couldn't put him through any more of this.
Suddenly the tears she'd been fighting to hold back broke through and
spilled down her face and her voice quivered as she said, "What do you
know about anything, about what I want?" Her voice broke on a sob. "Oh,
Shane, please give me a chance!"