Ultimatum: Marriage Page 8

  You could have done worse. And she’s a breeder.

  Jake leaned back in his chair and massaged his brow. He’d been married to Alicia what, two nights? Not that he felt married exactly. No—he felt frustrated and lonely.

  He never felt lonely. He liked being alone. Hell, besides having had no sex, they’d hardly spent any time together. Why was this bothering him so much when he hadn’t even wanted to marry her?

  Yesterday after breakfast, even though she’d locked herself in her bedroom, he hadn’t wanted to leave her. To give her the run of the house, he’d stayed outside doing odd maintenance jobs like throwing out a plastic storage box full of mildewed life preservers. And all that time, he’d been wondering if she was as aware of him as he was of her.

  So much for the first day of his marriage to his very sexy wife. This morning, he’d hoped that when he left for work he’d quit thinking about her. He’d been glad that, unlike her, he had somewhere to go where maybe he could get his mind off her. But even here he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

  He’d known their marriage would cause more problems, at least in the short term. Not that it was fun to deal with the onslaught of attacks from all directions. Still, they were going to have a baby. Every time he remembered how pale and haunted Alicia had looked when she’d turned up on his doorstep with her news, he felt more determined than ever to stand by her.

  When the phone rang again, he cringed. Fortunately it was only his twin brother.

  “You’re a lucky man,” Logan said.

  “Good to know somebody thinks so.”

  “Alicia didn’t know a damn thing her father was up to.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Mitchell lied to and manipulated everybody. I know how he was with her because she and I went out…for a while. But then, you already know that,” Logan trailed off awkwardly.

  “Right.”

  Jake didn’t like Logan reminding him he’d been there first with Alicia any better than he’d ever liked Logan telling him what to do or think.

  “Every time I took her anywhere, people envied me,” Logan said.

  Jake frowned. “Well, she’s married to me now.”

  “True. And how did that happen so fast? Last time we talked, you said she didn’t want to date anybody. Then my CEO and you went to the feds and Butler really crashed in flames.”

  If he’d felt closer to Logan, maybe he would have told him about the pregnancy and explained the sense of responsibility he felt toward Alicia. But for a lot of years Jake had kept Logan in the dark about his life. So, for now, Jake wanted to keep it that way.

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding. If it makes you feel any better, we didn’t invite anyone. Well…except for my secretary, who brought her son…but only because we needed a witnesses. Frankly, Alicia and I wanted to keep our marriage quiet as long as possible. Not easy when satellite trucks and photographers are camped on our doorstep.”

  “Well, the papers and Internet are full of it this morning.”

  “They’re all damning me as a crook the equal of Butler—so you see why I wanted to keep things quiet.”

  “It’ll blow over. Alicia’s a wonderful woman.”

  Jake appreciated his brother’s vote of confidence—not that he voiced this.

  “No matter what it costs you, she’ll be worth it.”

  Vanessa had said almost the same thing. Difficult as his relationship with Logan had been in the past, Jake respected his opinion.

  “Treat her right—you hear? Someday you might have a family together.”

  A family. At the thought of the child that she was already secretly carrying, he felt his neck grow hot.

  “Like you know everything because you’re ten minutes older,” Jake said.

  “Being first is everything.” Logan laughed.

  Jake was silent.

  “Well, Cici will be calling Alicia to invite you all out here to Belle Rose for dinner, so we can at least celebrate this with Grand-père, who’s thrilled, by the way. The two of you could spend the weekend.”

  Jake’s skin heated at the thought of sharing a double bed in an upstairs guest room with Alicia all night and trying to keep his hands off her.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Sure it is. We’re family. It’s about time we started acting like one.”

  Family. Heavy word coming from Logan, Jake thought before he said goodbye.

  He began to think about his wife, wondering what Alicia could possibly be doing at home all by herself. He wanted to call her and see how she felt. He hoped she wasn’t feeling nauseated.

  Don’t think about her. You did what she asked. You married her, didn’t you? That’s all you owe her.

  Why didn’t he feel like it was? Why did he feel…sorry for her…concerned even?

  Hell. He felt a whole lot more than that. When her father had been indicted, her whole world had been destroyed. She’d lost her job and her friends in Louisiana. Maybe he was having problems himself right now, but his battles were nothing compared to hers.

  Concerned about her father, she’d seemed so genuine and sweet the first night they’d met. She hadn’t acted as if she had anything to hide.

  If only he could stop remembering their lovemaking in such excruciating detail. She’d been so slick and warm and tight when he’d been inside her.

  He wanted her again—badly.

  Alicia arose from the computer, sure that if she didn’t stop reading Basil Bienville’s revolting blog about her marriage and her father along with the scathing comments posted by his readers, her morning sickness would return.

  Those of us who’ve followed the scandals involving Butler Bank and Houses for Hurricane Victims shouldn’t really be so amazed to learn that Alicia Butler has been living openly with Jake Claiborne. Or surprised that now we know why. According to a source close to the bride, Claiborne married the daughter of the man he turned over to the feds and publicly claims to hate Saturday evening in St. Anthony’s Garden.

  Why so hush-hush? Who’s really responsible for the funds missing from Houses for Hurricane Victims? Does this marriage confirm what we already suspected—that Claiborne is as big a thief as Butler?

  “Damn sure confirms it for me,” wrote an angry reader.

  If Jake hadn’t married her, nobody would want to nail him to the cross.

  Feeling isolated, she began to pace, wondering if there was anything lonelier than being in a house alone that wasn’t one’s own, especially when you were upset and needed to talk to someone—anyone. In one’s own house, there were always a million little tasks to perform to distract oneself.

  Not so in Jake’s house—unless she read his outdoor adventure magazines or decided to answer his phone, which had rung nonstop ever since he’d left for the office. For a while she’d been too nauseated to move, so answering it had been out of the question. But her nausea seemed to be in the past now.

  If in the six weeks before her marriage she’d felt as if she were dead to everybody she’d ever known, now she truly felt buried alive.

  If only Carol, the one friend who’d stood by her, didn’t live in London…. Damn the time difference.

  Feeling the need to talk to a real friend, she sat down and dialed Carol.

  Carol’s voice mail picked up.

  “Carol here. Sorry we’re not home….”

  Alicia listened to her friend’s message until it ended with a beep. She almost felt like calling her back so she could hear her voice again. Instead, she left a message and then called Kimberly, who formerly had been her best friend at work. They’d gone out together to movies and concerts and for the occasional drink or dinner.

  “It’s me, Alicia,” she said when Kim answered.

  There was a telling pause. “I…I read in the paper that you got married this past weekend,” Kim finally said.

  “You can’t believe everything you read, you know.”

  “I know. St
ill… Well, I hope you’ll be very happy.”

  “Thanks.” Alicia paused. “So, how have you been?”

  “Busy. Deadlines. A couple of writers are late with their stuff. We’re juggling. You know how it is.”

  “I’ve missed you so much. Missed work, too. I really need to talk to someone.”

  “I have missed you…. Look, Alicia, I’d love to talk. Really I would, but Sam’s waving at me to get off the phone now, so I…I really do have to go.”

  “But, Kim, please—”

  “Bye for now, Alicia. Sorry. I’ll call you when I have a minute. Really I will.”

  Then Kim was gone. Just like Alicia’s entire life was gone.

  She closed her eyes and let the silence of the empty house fill her for a long moment. Deliberately trying to blank her mind, she kept them shut for ten minutes. When at last she opened them, she felt as if something inside her had shifted.

  Just because things looked bad now, they didn’t have to stay that way. She was pregnant. Her baby meant she had a future. Maybe a future she couldn’t imagine yet, but a future. She shouldn’t dwell on the past—she should make plans for the months and years ahead. Not easy when she was under siege in this house with nothing to do and her heart feeling like a heavy lump in her chest. But she could do it.

  Where to start? What did people who stayed home do all day?

  They had lives. They went out with their friends. They shopped. They went to their gyms. They could do these things because they still had friends and their bank accounts weren’t frozen. They planned parties, fundraisers. They weren’t their federally-indicted father’s number one scapegoat.

  Alicia walked over to a kitchen window. Lifting the drape, she stared out at the overgrown yard and beds. As a child she’d gardened with her mother. Her job and her apartment hadn’t made gardening a feasible hobby. Maybe there was something outside she could do. She couldn’t face days and days inside the house watching television.

  Scarcely knowing what she did, she ran to her room to change. Then she let herself out the back door, banging the screen door behind her.

  Curious, Gus slipped out behind her. She went into the garage and dug through drawers and shelves until she found a large straw hat, a pair of old gardening gloves that were too large and some gardening tools. Then she began to attack the beds, weeding, pruning, turning the rich, loamy soil.

  Most of the yard was shaded by magnolia and oak trees. It felt good to be outdoors. Since she couldn’t hear the phone, she didn’t stress about the hate calls.

  Once or twice she took a break and drank a tall glass of water sitting on the rocker on the veranda. The rocker made her think of the baby and how nice it might be to bring her or him out here for a feeding.

  When it was time for lunch, she made herself a sandwich. After a short break, she tackled a second bed.

  At least she was no longer cooped up inside. Her shoulders and lower back began to ache so much, she almost looked forward to going inside and reading an Alaska adventure story, even one that focused on bears and mosquitoes.

  She was smiling at that thought when something large crashed behind her. Whirling, she stared at the hedge that lined the fence separating the front yard from the back.

  “Hell,” fumed a hoarse voice.

  Mumbled curses were followed by more branches thrashing about and then by heavy, stumbling footsteps.

  Muddy spade in hand, she stood up just as a wild-eyed, grizzled man leapt out of the azalea bushes at her.

  “Well! Looky here! Caught you!” he said.

  “You’re not supposed to be back here, so you’d better go!”

  “Or you’ll what—Mrs. Claiborne? Scream? For your new husband? Well, he’s not here, as you probably know. You won’t answer your phone. You won’t come to your door. How else could I talk to you?”

  She didn’t know whether he was dangerous or not, but her pulse was pounding in her throat as she began backing swiftly toward her kitchen door.

  “Who are you?” she asked, determined to keep him talking.

  “Just one of your father’s investors who lost everything. Now I can’t support my wife or daughter. Or put my grandchildren through college. Not that you care…”

  “But I do.”

  “He probably spent it on you! I hoped you’d get yours when they kicked you out on the street. But you’ve landed on your feet, haven’t you, living in this mansion with your brand-new husband! You think you’re so smart you don’t have to pay for what you did!”

  “What do you want?”

  “My money! That’s what I want! Why shouldn’t you pay me back what your father took?”

  “Because I have no money of my own.”

  “Liar. Look at this house.”

  “Rented.”

  Just as he lunged toward her, the automatic gate to the driveway began to slide open. A second later Jake’s big black SUV rushed down the driveway and slammed to a standstill. Jake jumped out.

  It was too early for him to be home, but Alicia had never been happier to see him.

  “Hey!” he yelled, shouting her name as he rushed toward her.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jake demanded, stepping between Alicia and the stranger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? Get lost. Now.”

  The older man stared at Jake, whose lean body looked massive and powerful even in his tailored suit. Then the man nodded slowly, as if something of Jake’s meaning had penetrated.

  “I’ll go,” he said wearily. “I’m finished here. She and her father have finished me and my whole family. You’d better be careful boy, before she finishes you, too. Or maybe you’re as bad as she is.”

  Alicia stood behind Jake as he relocked the gate after the man had exited. Reporters eager for his story swarmed the stranger, their mikes held high.

  “It’s early for you to be home,” Alicia said shakily to Jake.

  He turned. “When I couldn’t reach you by phone during lunch either on your cell or the house line, I got nervous. So I decided to drive home and check on you myself. I’m certainly glad I did.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed weakly.

  “That guy had clearly lost it.”

  “With good reason,” she said. “He’s lost all his life savings.”

  “Still, there’s no telling what he might have done.”

  “I think he just wanted to vent.”

  “People are very angry about this. I’m going to hire you a driver, someone who’ll double as your bodyguard.”

  “No…” She didn’t want to be any more of a burden than she already was.

  “So you can go out some. So you won’t be totally alone here all the time.”

  “No!”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to insist. It’s for the baby’s safety. Not just yours.”

  “Oh.” His words stung a little. He didn’t care about her. Still, the good part was he cared about the baby.

  “So, you’ve been digging in the flowerbeds, I see.”

  “How can you tell?” she asked.

  Leaning toward her, he wiped a speck of dirt off her nose and then another off her chin. Then his mouth quirked into a lopsided smile that made him too handsome to believe. “Trust me. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes.”

  “I was very scared before you came,” she said, her voice breaking in heartfelt gratitude.

  “And I felt crazier and crazier at the office when you didn’t answer.” He caught himself. Clearly he felt awkward about revealing his concern. “Well, speaking of the office, I’d better get back to work.”

  “Yes. Sorry to be such a bother. I’ll try to be better behaved.”

  He smiled. “Then promise me you won’t go into the backyard alone until I find someone to see after you. And why don’t you get a new cell phone number so I can reach you.”

  Feeling pleased that he was so protective, and a little shy, she nodded.

  When he left, she stood at a front window and watched him drive away. Long
after he’d disappeared she continued to stare at the lengthy shadows beneath the trees across the street.

  When she finally turned back to face the empty house, she didn’t feel quite as lonely as she had before. Her heart felt lighter, her mood brighter. She actually looked forward to making plans for the future and shopping for the baby with a driver.

  Jake had come home because of her.

  He’d protected her and the baby.

  For no reason at all she kept remembering the way he’d smiled so tenderly when he’d wiped the dirt off her nose.

  He didn’t really care. Not about her.

  Still…it felt nice to pretend that he might.

  Nine

  The more Alicia tried to ignore Jake, the more fascinated by him she grew.

  She knew that there were no photographs or personal memorabilia in his house. It was as if he wanted no link to his past. Why? Had he had a difficult past too?

  She knew the exact hour he left for work. Seven-thirty. On the dot.

  She knew the exact hour he came home. Six-thirty.

  She knew that he had trouble sleeping, that he often paced at night, pausing at her door. The knob would turn and she would sit up, listening in the dark, charged with the hope and fear that he might open it.

  She knew what he ate for dinner—fast food because she found the wadded wrappers and boxes in the trash. Pizza mostly. Way too much pizza.

  It’s none of your business that he never eats vegetables.

  A real wife would at least cook healthier choices for him. But it was dangerous to even think she might ever be that woman.

  Too often Alicia thought about Jake rescuing her from that man in the garden. It seemed uncanny that he’d known just when to come home. It was as if he were tuned into her in a psychic way.

  When she relived that scene, she wished she’d kissed him.

  Stupid. A kiss wouldn’t change anything. She was the woman he’d married reluctantly and kept hidden away from his business associates, friends and family; the woman he chose never to be seen with in public.