Dani Wade - A Bride's Tangled Vows

He’d been without a woman for far too long. That had to be why he was so off balance. His strict adherence to his “no attachments” rule had led to a lifetime of brief encounters. His last choice had been a wrong one, a woman who wasn’t happy when he walked out the door the next morning. It had soured him on any woman since.

Darkness permeated the staircase, heightening the illusion of intimacy. His and Christina’s accelerated breaths were the only sound between them. They were so close, he felt the slight tremor that raced over her echo throughout his entire body. It took more minutes than Aiden cared to admit for his mind to kick into gear.

“Dreamed up more ways to invade my territory, Christina?”

He felt her stiffen against his palms, tension replacing that delicious softness. Just as he’d intended.

Before he could regret anything, she retreated, stabilizing herself with a hand against the wall. “Aiden,” she said, prim disapproval not hiding a hint of breathlessness, “I’m sorry for not seeing you.”

I’m not.

“And for the record, I’m not invading anything. So I’d thank you to never call me by that stupid nickname.”

It was a sign of his own childhood needs that he’d resented the attention she’d received here at Blackstone Manor when they were kids, enough to tease her with his invader tag. There had been times he’d felt as if she had invaded their chaotic life, garnering what little positive attention there was to go around. How he’d resented that. To the point that, one hot summer afternoon, he’d spoken harsh words he’d always regret.

“I’m trying to help, Aiden. I really am.” Her voice came out low, intensifying the sense of intimacy.

He had to clear his own throat before he spoke again. “Why? I’m nothing to you.”

“And I realize I’m nothing to you, but I care very much for Lily.”

He could feel his suspicious nature, the one that served him so well in business negotiations, kick in. “So what’s he have on you, sweetheart?”

Christina didn’t pretend not to understand. “Lily.”

“Why? There are other jobs, other people in need of a nurse.”

Her glare was almost visible in the dim light. He should feel lucky he wasn’t smoldering under that fire. Instead, a cool brush of air drifted over him as she shifted back on the steps. “If you had hung around over the past ten years, you’d know that Lily has been like a mother to me. Ever since we were kids.” Pausing to swallow, she looked down for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was once more firm and devoid of emotion. “I understand what’s being required of me.”

Somehow that monotone didn’t make him any happier than her anger, and he couldn’t resist the urge to shake her out of it. “You’d sell yourself to a stranger for what, money? Hoping ol’ Granddad will give you a piece of the pie if you work hard enough for it?”

“No,” she insisted. “I’m not selling myself, but I will sacrifice myself to do what I think is right for Lily.” She reached out in a pleading gesture, but jerked back as her fingertips brushed his chest. A deep breath seemed to stabilize her control. The professional was back. “It’s my belief as a nurse, and as Lily’s friend, that she’s conscious of where she is. This house has been her sanctuary since her car accident. I can guarantee that removing her from here will negatively affect her physical and emotional condition. Especially if he puts her in—” a shudder worked its way over her “—that place. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep Lily out of there.... Will you?”

Aiden shifted his legs, wishing he could pace despite the confinement of his surroundings. “Would he really do that to her, you think?”

An unladylike snort sounded in the air, surprising him. But Christina obviously wasn’t in the mood to pull her punches. “Have you forgotten that much already? He’s only become more pigheaded through the years.”

“You seem to handle him pretty well,” he said, remembering how she’d stared James down over the medicine.

Her brow lifted in disbelief. “He only concedes to my medical expertise because he’s afraid of dying.”

“He’s not afraid of anything.”

“Actually, Aiden, deep down we’re all afraid of something.” Her shaky breath told him she was afraid of something, too, but she wasn’t revealing any secrets. “Death is the only thing James can’t outwit, outsmart or bully into getting his way.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Aiden felt a strange kinship tingle at the edge of his consciousness. She might look delicate, but Christina was racking up evidence of being one smart cookie. On top of that, a common bond tightened between them: Lily. He knew the source of his guilt—his obligation to his mother. Despite her words, he knew Christina’s devotion to Lily wasn’t just friendship; something else lurked beneath that fierce dedication. Was it just how good Lily had been to her? Or something more? He’d find out what was going on there. She could bet on it.

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs. The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hairbreadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two. But maybe he could find a way to make this work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way around that.”

“Do you have any other choices for a wife?” she asked. “I didn’t really give you a chance to choose.”

Arguments? He had a few, but none that were effective. Excuses? A whole hay wagon full, but none he dared utter in the face of the threat to his mother’s well-being. Other women? He could think of many a delectable armful over the last ten years, but none interested in anything as mundane as marriage. He’d stayed far away from the home-and-hearth type.

“No,” he conceded, then stepped aside to let her pass. “I don’t think I could pay my assistant enough to move to the middle of nowhere and put up with me 24/7.”

“It’s hardly the middle of nowhere,” she said with a light tone as she scooted past, brushing the far wall in an attempt not to touch him again.

Which was just as well.

She continued, “We might not have the culture of New York City, but there’s still a movie theater, nice restaurants and the country-club set.” She kept that delicate face turned resolutely away as he followed her into the soft afternoon light of the kitchen. “Not something I’m that interested in, but to each his own.”

Interesting. “What do your parents think about that?”

“Who knows?” And who cares, her tone said. Could she really brush aside what her family thought that easily? Everything he’d seen since his return made him think she was family-focused. Her graceful appearance, fierce loyalty and career choice made her seem exactly like the marriage, kids and picket-fence type. All the more reason to keep his pants zipped around her.