Authors: Brooke Hastings
"I have a proposition to make," he said, sounding utterly
sane and reasonable. "I can understand that you wouldn't want to marry
me under the circumstances we discussed in the living room, but
you
have to under-stand that only a fool would give up what I was offered.
At the same time, though, I refuse to put myself into a situation where
your father constantly interferes in our relationship. So if you don't
want to marry me, you're going to have to live with me."
It took Randy less than five seconds to spot the flaw in
his logic. "I'll get my own apartment," she said.
Luke shook his head, walking to the bed and sitting down
next to her. "I'd be lonely," he murmured, trailing a finger down her
arm. "My house is in Westchester and you'd be in Manhattan."
Randy edged away from him, unwilling to be talked into
anything. But he put a hand around her waist to prevent further escape
and went on seductively, "Do you realize that all night long I've been
dying to do
this
?" Before Randy could stop him
he'd slipped her gown off her shoulder and down to her waist. She
wasn't wearing anything underneath, a fact that seemed to please him
immensely.
Even though she arched away from him his mouth managed to
imprison a nipple, nipping it until it was hard and then sweetly
punishing its twin with equal effectiveness. The old familiar fire
started to burn its way through her body, but still she resisted,
trying to twist away.
Luke was having none of it. He rolled onto the bed and
pinned her body beneath his own, ignoring the hands that pushed against
his shoulders. "You're beautiful," he growled. "And I'm tired of lying
in bed at night and thinking about you. I want you with me."
When his lips brushed her mouth she shuddered with desire.
Her hands dropped to her sides, then crept around his waist. After a
smoldering kiss that said he wanted much, much more from her, he raised
his head and murmured, "Okay?"
Randy looked into his eyes, too aroused and confused to
think straight. "Okay what?"
"It would be easier to get married than to live together,
Miranda."
Randy didn't answer, but as Luke captured her lips again
she knew that she'd marry him if that was what he wanted. She wanted it
too, so what difference did his reasons make?
Randy was looking at herself in the full-length mirror in
her mother's dressing room, her hand shaking slightly as she smoothed
the ankle-length skirt of her white silk dress. Although her wedding
gown, with its mandarin collar, fitted lace top and long sleeves,
looked enchanting on her, her face was almost as pale as the fabric
was. She fingered the chain of her gold cross, which was hidden beneath
the neckline of her dress, and wished for the tenth time that day that
the ceremony was already over with.
Luke was more than half an hour late, and Randy became
more and more agitated as the minutes ticked by. Ever since Friday,
when she and Luke had picked out simple gold wedding bands and a ruby
and diamond engagement ring, everything had seemed to go wrong.
After taking out a marriage license and lunching together
in the city, they took the train up to Luke's house in suburban
Westchester County. Luke had already warned Randy that he had a very
busy schedule for the next few weeks; he was ostensibly showing her the
house so that she could shop for mundane items like decent pots and new
linen. Emily had promised to help him decorate, he said, but he'd never
found the time to sit down with her. There was very little furniture as
yet.
She loved the place on sight. It was a large,
colonial-style home surrounded by shrubs and trees, sitting on almost
an acre of land. They walked inside arm-in-arm, but Randy barely had
time to glance into the nearly empty living room before Luke was
lifting her into his arms and carrying her up the stairs. He made love
to her with a burning passion, whispering how much he wanted her and
how beautiful she was. And afterward, as she lay replete in his arms,
he murmured a tender "I love you" and everything seemed perfect.
Unfortunately, Randy had seen Luke exactly once since that
afternoon. When he wasn't working in the office he was
traveling—first to Florida, then to Texas. They managed to
have lunch together on Wednesday, but Randy's grandparents joined them
so the meal was anything but intimate. The Conovers had interrupted
their European trip to fly back to New York for the wedding, but were
delighted to be thus inconvenienced. Randy smiled and thanked them when
they announced their intention to give her and Luke a thousand shares
of Dunne Industries stock as a wedding present, but she couldn't help
adding in the gift to all the other assets Luke would derive from their
marriage.
But the most stressful part of the whole thing was the way
the wedding had snowballed from a quiet ceremony for the immediate
family into a major affair complete with white gown, catered dinner and
over a hundred guests. The whole reason for marrying so quickly was
that Luke wanted something small and private, but the minute Jonathan
Conover heard about the wedding he insisted that his family and close
friends would never forgive him if they weren't invited. He knew
perfectly well that his daughter was one of the few women in New York
who could arrange dinner for one hundred in less than a week.
Randy didn't have to see Luke to know that he was
displeased. They talked on the phone every day and he'd made his
attitude crystal clear. Right now he was probably stuck in traffic on
his way back from picking up his mother and stepfather at the airport.
It was bad enough, Randy thought, that Linda and Luke's sister Annie
were standing in the same room at this very moment, without adding in
the presence of a mother and stepfather from whom Luke was quite
obviously estranged.
She was looking at a chair, dying to sit down but afraid
of wrinkling her gown, when Linda came into the room. "Luke just got
here," she said. She took in Randy's frayed appearance, then added, "He
looks even more wiped-out than you do. A huge truck jackknifed on the
parkway and tied up traffic for miles. I think he's been sweating
bullets, afraid you'd think he wasn't going to show up. Anyway, Dad
sent him to your bedroom to change. He's not too pleased with the black
tie routine."
"I know that." Randy brushed away a tear. "Lin, this is
supposed to be the happiest day of my life and it's been totally awful.
Luke is furious about the big wedding and upset about having his family
here. I feel like I'm making a terrible mistake rushing into this, and,
and…"
The next moment she was in Linda's arms, sniffing, "Lin,
the dresses…"
"The world can survive a few wrinkles," Linda said,
rhythmically stroking her neck. "Just take it easy; things will be
fine. Luke loves you, he told you that."
Randy straightened and grabbed a tissue, dabbing at her
eyes. "Me, my money, who knows what he loves? I wish he'd refuse it
all."
Linda smoothed a few stray wisps of her french knot back
into place. "That's what I told Roger," she said, "but he thinks Luke
would have to be crazy. He says that if he were Luke he'd take you and
the money and live happily ever after. Men think differently than we
do. They're pragmatic instead of romantic."
When Linda saw how little her explanation helped, she went
on, "At least I have
one
piece of news that
should help you relax. I've just been talking to Annie Havemeyer. She's
quite a lady. She came up, introduced herself and actually thanked me
for trying to straighten out her husband. I stood there stammering like
a ninny until Roger came along and rescued me."
The thought of Linda at a loss for words coaxed a slight
smile onto Randy's lips. She turned to the mirror to repair her makeup
and Linda left the dressing room, saying she would check on Luke's
progress.
A minute later Randy heard someone open the bedroom door
and walked out of the dressing room to find out what was happening. She
froze in her tracks at the sight of Luke, thinking that if she excused
his slightly skewed bow tie and wan complexion, he looked terribly
handsome.
"It's supposed to be bad luck," she mumbled.
"Lin told me how upset you are." Luke walked up to her and
kissed her gently on the lips. "Don't be. Everything will be okay." He
caressed her face, then took her in his arms and parted her lips for
yet another kiss, this one passionate rather than tender. "Come on," he
murmured against her mouth. "Let's get this over with."
Despite Randy's fears, the ceremony and reception went
very well. She'd noticed that Luke's mother looked uncomfortable in the
glittering world where her son was so at home, but Emily made sure that
she and her husband had plenty to eat and introduced them to some old
friends who could be counted on to keep them entertained.
The first person Randy spoke to after the ceremony was
Annie Havemeyer, who admitted rather hesitantly that she almost hadn't
come to the wedding, but couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her
brother married.
"I just want you to know—I met your sister Linda
and I thought she was very nice. What I'm beginning to realize is that
I used to run to Luke for every little thing, especially after he moved
back to New York. It made Tom feel as though Luke were more important
than
he
is, and between the problems with his job
and my troubles with the kids, everything started to go wrong. Someday
I'll tell you about it, but I guess you have a lot of people to say
hello to right now."
Randy answered that the next people she wanted to say
hello to were her two new nieces, who were standing with their
grandmother on the other side of the room. When Annie introduced her
mother and stepfather there was no hint of discomfort or dislike in her
voice; she seemed to have put the past behind her, even if Luke had
not. The couple seemed perfectly nice to Randy, and she was relieved
when she noticed Luke talking easily with them about an hour later.
Although everything went better than Randy had dared hope,
she was more than happy to toss her bouquet to Linda, change out of her
dress and leave the apartment with Luke. She fell asleep during the
drive home, only waking up when Luke pulled the car into his garage.
Carrying her in the back way wasn't exactly romantic, but Luke admitted
that he was just too tired to walk around the house with her.
The next few days were as hectic as Luke had warned her
they would be. He was out of the house by seven and returned late each
night. He was tense and distracted, even when they made love, and
couldn't or wouldn't respond to Randy's efforts to talk to him. She
kept herself busy shopping and looking at furniture, but with every
passing day was more unhappy and unsure of herself.
When Luke finally managed to make it home for dinner on
Thursday she kissed him hello, served him his meal and kept the
conversation light. But her feminine instinct to placate him was at war
with her need for reassurance, and the latter finally won.
They were lying in bed together, watching a TV movie, when
she asked softly, "Are you sorry you married me?"
Luke stared at the screen for several seconds, then looked
at her like she was crazy. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.
His anger unnerved her. "You seem… unhappy,"
she stammered.
He sighed and reached for his cigarettes. "Miranda, I'm
busy as hell; we've been having problems with the Dallas project
contracts, and last week some teenager set off a bomb near the Florida
store and knocked out half the windows. If I'm unhappy it doesn't have
anything to do with you."
Randy wanted to believe him, but couldn't. "I feel as
though you don't love me," she said. "Or at least that you have mixed
feelings about the marriage. The fact is, if Lin hadn't said anything
about Maine and if my father hadn't bribed you with things you wanted
very much, we wouldn't be married at all."
When Luke didn't answer, she repeated, "We wouldn't, would
we."
"No." Luke took a drag on his cigarette. "But I'm the one
who pushed it, not you. You just have to understand that after so many
years of avoiding marriage I needed… an incentive. Something
to talk me into it. But that doesn't mean I regret it, or that I don't
love you."
"Will you give everything back then?" Randy asked. "Wait
the six years to take over?"
Luke frowned at her. "You can't be serious, Miranda."
Randy was about to answer that she was
very
serious when the phone rang. It was Aaron Gregov, who'd just seen the
announcement of her marriage in the paper and wanted to congratulate
her. Randy got him off the phone as soon as she decently could, but
Luke wasn't too pleased by the call.
It was ridiculous to feel defensive—Aaron hardly
qualified as an old boyfriend—but Randy couldn't help it.
Luke went back to watching the movie and Randy lay beside him
pretending to do the same. Eventually, though, he smiled at her and
started to toy with the cross around her neck. She snuggled into the
crook of his arm and began to unbutton his shirt.
He turned his head to kiss her, his hand reaching under
her nightshirt to caress her breast. Even though the TV was on, Randy
finally felt that Luke's full attention was on
her
,
not on his work or on the need for physical release. She murmured a
tender "I love you" and melted into his arms.
And then the phone rang again. Luke reached for it with a
muttered curse, barking a curt "Hello!" into the receiver. Judging from
the conversation, Randy concluded, the caller wasn't one of his
favorite people.
"Yes, she is," he said. "No, you can't." A pause. "No."
Another pause. "Yes." A third pause. "I'll do that. And please don't
call her or try to see her ever again." He slammed down the phone.