Kathleen O'Brien - Texas Wedding

Finally her fingers closed around the long white envelope. She pulled it out and extended it toward him. “It’s something I’d like you to read. Something I’d like you to sign.”

He didn’t look at the envelope. The smile stayed in place, but it lost any hint of humor. Above it, his gaze held hers, cool and unblinking blue inside a thick fringe of black lashes. Oh, even when he was angry, he was lethally attractive.

“Sign?”

The word was even colder than his eyes.

“Yes,” she said, too quickly. “I got to thinking about things, today after the wedding, and I realized we hadn’t really considered…everything.”

“No? It seemed to me the prenup your lawyer drew up was pretty damn thorough. He made it quite clear that I’ll be shot if I’m caught crossing the Everly threshold with so much as one pillowcase from your mother’s needlepoint collection.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Which wasn’t very likely in the first place, was it?”

“No. It was silly, but Richard’s careful. He wanted to protect me—”

“Was the medical certificate his idea, too?”

She felt heat crawling up her throat toward her cheeks. The medical certificate had almost scotched the whole deal. But when Trent had insisted on a physical relationship, she had insisted that he prove he was healthy. With his Don Juan past, it would have been insane not to.

“No, that was my idea. Richard doesn’t know we—that we agreed to—”

“Consummate the marriage?”

“Right. So when he wrote the prenup, of course he wasn’t thinking about…things like that. That’s what occurred to me today. That we hadn’t provided for every contingency.”

She felt foolish, still holding out the envelope. She pushed it a few inches closer, till its crisp edge almost touched his bare, bronze chest, like the tip of a sword.

He glanced down at it dismissively, those long eyelashes dusting his cheeks. “It’s a little late to try to glue conditions onto this deal, don’t you think?”

Of course it was too late, technically. She knew that. He had the moral right to tear this piece of paper into a dozen pieces and fling it in her face. Many might think he had the moral right to shove her onto the waiting bed and force her to do whatever he wanted.

But surely he wouldn’t. Surely even the volcano of anger that had been simmering between them for more than a decade wouldn’t blow that high. Surely it hadn’t taken the laughing boy who used to dance with her down by Green Fern Pool and turned him into a monster.

“Put it away, Susannah. I’m not signing anything.”

She lifted her chin. “Just read it.”

She was pleased to note that, though her insides were twisting as if she had a bellyful of snakes, her voice sounded strong. In spite of the hot cheeks and the damp palms, somehow she projected confidence.

She sent a mental thank-you to her grandfather, the bully who had taught her how to face down fear.

Trent tilted his head. “Sue, don’t do this,” he said. His voice was quiet, but held an undercurrent of warning.

“Please. Just read it.”

She saw his chest expand as he took in a deep breath. His rib cage brushed the edge of the envelope.

He reached out, finally, and took it. She hadn’t sealed the envelope. She hadn’t had time. Chase and Josie, who had no doubt meant well, had brought over a few friends to toast the newlyweds this afternoon, and Susannah had found it difficult to steal away long enough to scrawl the words onto the paper.

Trent unfolded it and began to read.

Her heart thumped in her ears, but not loudly enough to drown out the quavering inner voice that read along with him.

In the event that a child is conceived between me and Susannah Kate Everly during our marriage, I, Trent Anderson Maxwell, do hereby relinquish all legal rights to said child. I will not attempt to gain custody, partial or full, of any child of this union. I will have no financial obligations toward said child, nor will I have any right to be involved in decisions involving the child.

He must have read it three times, his handsome face impassive, his black hair falling over his forehead. At least, that was how many times she could scan it in her head—and each time it sounded more ridiculous, with all that fake legalese mimicking wills and contracts she’d seen over the years.

And each time it sounded more damning. More unfair, and insulting. More like the dishonest swindle it was.

His knuckles were white. So were hers.

Breathe… Though her lungs felt like rusty bellows, she had to remember she needed air. Her head swam, and her ears rang. But she refused to do anything as pathetic as fainting.

Thank God she’d sent Nikki away for the summer. Nikki didn’t like Trent and, with the judgmental absolutism of the young, she’d made it clear that she thought the whole marriage-of-convenience idea was disgusting. Knowing it would be impossible to fight on two fronts, Susannah had found the cash for a special art school, managed to wrangle permission to take Nikki out of school a bit early to attend, and, just yesterday, had packed her little sister off.

Barely in the nick of time! Nikki acted tough, especially when she locked horns with Susannah, but it was a facade. No sixteen-year-old was tough enough to handle the hell that might break loose at Everly tonight.

It seemed an eternity before Trent raised his eyes again. When he finally did, the look she saw in them terrified her.

“Tell me this is your idea of a joke.”

“Of course it’s not.” She knew a dignified silence would be more powerful, but she suddenly couldn’t seem to stop talking. “It’s just common sense. No matter how careful we are, everyone knows that birth control isn’t one hundred percent reliable. We can’t allow our lives to be tangled up forever, with custody battles and court cases, just because we bought a faulty condom, or because—”

“Don’t pretend you’re stupid.” He held the paper between two fingers, as if he meant to flick it away at any moment. “You know this…this juvenile chicken scratch would never hold up in court.”

She raised her chin. “I disagree.”

“No, you don’t. You know it’s absurd. They’d laugh you out of court. But it won’t come to that, will it? Because you know damned well I’d never sign any such ridiculous document. Never.”

“You have to.”

“The hell I do. You made your deal with the devil, Susannah. You can’t renegotiate now.”

“I can.” She met his glacial blue gaze, but it made her shudder inside, as if she’d swallowed a stomachful of chipped ice. “I am renegotiating. I have had second thoughts. If you don’t sign that document, there will be no…no consummation.”

For a minute, he just stared at her. And then, with a sudden oath, he did flick the paper away. He moved toward her, roughly, all six-foot-two-inches of hard, half-naked muscle bearing down.

Every primitive instinct told her to run, but he blocked the way. She backed up on clumsy legs, knocking against the dresser, sending her earrings and wristwatch clanking to the wood floor.

He didn’t even seem to hear it. He just kept coming. Finally, she ran out of room, and her shoulder blades met the wall. He slammed the heels of his hands onto the plaster, just inches from each side of her head. His face was so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek.

“This is what you’d planned all along, isn’t it? What a fool I was, to think even for a minute that…” He set his jaw into a right angle of fury. “Right from the start, this was just a nasty game of bait and switch.”

“No. No, I just realized this afternoon—”

“The hell you did. Don’t give me that crap, Susannah. You’re not a fool, and neither am I. You never intended to keep your end of the bargain.”