Second-Best Bride

‘Please!’ she breathed in agony. The armour was melting!

In a sudden, abrupt movement, he appeared by her side and wordlessly handed her the water. ‘Tell me when you feel you can continue,’ he said, his features as brittle as his voice. He regarded her with steady, unsmiling eyes. Cold, bleak, scary. It wasn’t her imagination that tinged his words with a sinister menace. He was watching her warily, as though judging the extent of her surrender to his magnetic personality. ‘Your mother will be worried,’ he said quietly.

‘Don’t you think I know that?’ she cried angrily. ‘You don’t have to rub it in. I hate the way you and my father use her condition to force me to do what you want!’

‘I want to marry you,’ he said tightly. ‘That’s hardly the vile deed you seem to be suggesting by your tone. I’m sorry if I pressurised you. But do me a favour and don’t bracket me with your father in the same breath!’

‘You’re alike,’ she muttered and met his glittering eyes with defiance.

‘Not by one iota,’ he said savagely.

Her eyes reflected her mute contradiction. Both were big men, both were charmers who liked to get their own way. And, now that she had to tell him she wasn’t going back, what would he do? He was very physical—she knew that, from the way he’d run across Ballymare beach with her, while she perched on his shoulders. Strong, too; his hands had made light work of shifting Dan O’Connor’s heavy old boat. She quivered with nerves.

But they couldn’t begin married life with dark secrets between them. She loved him deeply and she didn’t want him to marry her because she was attached to a pile of money. She’d rather wait till he came to her of his own free will. Her legs trembled. She sought to hide that fact by twisting them around each other beneath the huge skirt.

‘I think you have something to tell me,’ she said in a weird little croak.

Trader froze. He’s guilty! she thought in dismay. Her hands began to shake visibly and she put the glass down, straining to interpret the expression on his bleak face.

‘I have? Like…what?’ he asked, non-committally.

‘Let’s start with why someone stopped our wedding ceremony!’ she said quietly. And added, ‘Or did that escape your notice?!’

‘Hardly,’ he said coldly. ‘Nor did your sarcasm. I don’t like your tone, Claire.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘And I don’t like your secrets!’ she cried hysterically. ‘Can’t you see what a state I’m in? Just tell me and put me out of my misery: what exactly is the reason we shouldn’t get married?’

Every stupid inch of her was screwed up in anticipation of his answer and she knew with a terrible despair that she was more than eager to believe any excuse he dreamed up. And how she’d loathe herself if she did! He had her heart and soul. It would be disastrous if he claimed her pride as well.

‘None. I’m not married, I’ve not been certified insane and I have all the parts a woman could want in a husband. And I don’t have any notifiable disease. OK?’

She flushed. ‘Don’t patronise me, Trader!’ she snapped.

‘I was trying to lighten you up,’ he grated. ‘You don’t have a lot of faith in me, do you? God help us both if something really serious comes to test us,’ he added thoughtfully. She glared but he went on, ‘There was no objection to our marriage. Poor Phoenix was being hassled by some guy, wanting her address. She got irritable and told him to wait.’

‘That’s all?! It—it sounds far-fetched,’ she said hesitantly.

‘It’s the truth!’ he insisted. ‘I was shaken too, Claire. I’ve been on edge ever since we parted yesterday afternoon. I haven’t slept, wondering whether you’d turn up this morning——’

‘Is there a reason I shouldn’t?’ she asked quickly.

He grimaced. ‘A thousand. Or so I persuaded myself.’ His mouth made a half-hearted attempt at a wry grin. ‘I’ve never felt so unsure of someone in my life. Or as uncertain of anything. It’s a new experience and I don’t like it.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I came here for a break in my hectic life, not to find a bride. I have things to do which don’t leave room for a steady relationship, let alone a wife. But…you can’t ignore opportunity, can you?’ he said with a rueful grin.

‘Maybe we both should,’ she said bitterly.

‘Look, I know I’ve pushed you for this marriage. But you know why.’

‘Yes,’ she said shakily. ‘I think I do.’

With a groan, he knelt at her feet and laid a firm hand on her knee. Its heat burned through the layers of petticoats, warming her frozen skin. But despite his apparently submissive position, she had the impression of being trapped. His strength, his faint air of menace, the piercing command of his eyes all added up to domination. And she wanted parity.

‘Thank God for that!’ He gave her a dazzling grin that lit up his face and, fool that she was, she immediately felt that he was the man she’d fallen in love with again. ‘Darling, all I want is to be with you,’ he said persuasively. ‘I know you feel the same. I don’t need anyone else. You’re my friend and always will be. Doesn’t that tell you we have something special, something unique?’

Claire’s thick fringe of lashes closed with the sweet memories. They’d been so happy walking hand in hand. Wandering in quiet companionship, needing nothing but each other. ‘Oh, Trader!’ she said tremulously, wishing, wishing for his love. ‘I do love you! I do, I do, I do! I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you make me feel complete! And then I start to think of reasons we shouldn’t be together, instead of listening to my blind instincts and——’

‘Then stop thinking!’ he ordered sternly. ‘It’s cracking us up! We need one another. It’s that simple. Let’s get married without any more of this damn fool talking!’

She sniffed as the tears of relief filled her huge, forest-green eyes. ‘If you love me, truly love me, I’ll marry you. I—I didn’t want to be hurt, you see. I feel horribly defenceless where you’re concerned and…my mother’s experience has made me protect myself,’ she sobbed, her body in convulsions of weeping.

And then Trader was peeling her fingers from his waist and gently holding her at arm’s length while she stood weeping in front of him.

‘I understand that,’ he said quietly. ‘It would be easy to hurt you. Once committed, you give your whole self in a relationship, holding nothing back. But you have to trust me. Say you will marry me now or I’ll have to walk out of your life for ever.’

‘That sounds like an ultimatum,’ she said slowly, knuckling away the tears in surprise.

‘It is. I’m not going through this again,’ he replied, his dark eyes steady on hers. ‘This could be our only chance of happiness. You see, darling, you’re in a unique position to change my life.’

The money would change his life, she thought sadly. He’d be rich instead of poor. ‘Trader——’ she began, but his finger stopped her lips.

‘If you doubt me, if you reject me now, I’m not hanging around for an encore.’ The words were cold and uncompromising. He stood back and gave her a little shake, fixing her with his glittering stare. ‘My father was a very proud man. So am I. It’s difficult for me to admit that I love you so much that you could destroy me. But I’m taking the risk because I think it’s worth it, you idiot! This is my final gamble,’ he growled. ‘Yes, or no?’

CHAPTER THREE

CLAIRE felt weak and tired from lack of sleep. Or perhaps it was more from the constant tension, the terrible demons that had tormented her since yesterday evening, followed by the drama of the morning. This wasn’t the time to be making any lifetime decision but she wanted the fairy-tale and she wanted Trader. The happy ever after.

Her lips parted. He might be a bastard. Have a terrible past. She had no way of knowing. But if he left, she’d never know and she’d always wonder. The scales slid one way, hovered, and then tipped precariously in the opposite direction. He swore that he loved her and she believed him. Without him she was only half a person. She had no choice but to marry him, whatever the consequences, or she’d regret it for ever.

‘Yes,’ she whispered helplessly.

‘Thank God!’ he muttered and gave her a sudden grin. ‘The condemned man lives again! I’ve been pronounced innocent of the crimes.’ Claire smiled wanly. ‘You look shattered. I’ll get Phoenix to help repair your make-up——’

‘No!’ she protested. ‘I want Sue——’

‘Phoenix,’ he insisted. ‘I can trust her not to say anything. She has my best interests at heart. Remember, you felt ill. Lack of sleep, nerves…Your mother must never know about your doubts. I’ll tell everyone you’re on your way.’

He was through the door before she could insist. In a panic, she staggered to the small washbasin and peered at herself in the mirror above. Rivulets of tears had made inroads into the make-up that Sue had helped her with earlier in an attempt to liven up her wan face. She heard Trader talking to Phoenix and hastily rubbed her thumb to smudge make-up across the telltale tear-streaks.

‘Hello, Claire,’ said Phoenix warmly, coming over and giving her a hug. ‘You poor little scrap! I’m sorry I gave you a fright. How wan you look—and no wonder! What awful things must have gone through your mind about this reprobate!’ She exchanged a fond smile with Trader and turned back to Claire. ‘Forgive me?’ she asked, with a catch in her voice.

‘Yes,’ answered Claire huskily. ‘It—it actually gave us some breathing space to talk things through.’ Her face lifted to Phoenix’s. ‘I know he loves me now,’ she said shyly.

‘Of course you do!’ cooed Phoenix. She found her compact and began sweeping a block powder over Claire’s face. ‘I’d better do your mascara,’ Phoenix sighed. ‘You’re really not used to wearing make-up, are you?’

‘She doesn’t need it,’ broke in Trader lovingly.

‘Course she does!’ scoffed Phoenix. ‘She’s got to do something to tone down that orange hair. Lord, Trader, you can’t go around looking suave and sophisticated with a little Irish colleen in tow! Look up, Claire…You need lashings of mascara on those ginger lashes. Better!’

Phoenix smiled, unaware that her words had worried Claire. Close up, Phoenix was incredibly beautiful, her pale, alabaster skin flawless, her dark hair drawn back from her face to show its incredible bone-structure, the elegantly understated hat giving her an enviably confident air. This woman knew more about Trader than she did, thought Claire wryly.

‘Leave her alone! I love my Irish colleen. I could eat her!’ chuckled Trader happily. ‘Come here!’ Like a fool, she obeyed before she could think, detaching herself from Phoenix’s detaining hand. Trader pulled her to his body. ‘This is for the woman I love,’ he murmured.

His mouth claimed hers in a gentle kiss. It disarmed her, persuading her to forget everything in her mind, obliterating everything, removing the armour completely. Her own lips flowered beneath his and she felt herself growing boneless in his arms.

‘Trader!’ complained Phoenix, close to her ear. ‘You’re ruining her lipstick, darling!’

He laughed exultantly, a fevered light in his eyes when they met Claire’s bewildered, blinking gaze. Phoenix dabbed at his lips in a sisterly fashion and then clucked crossly over the smudge at the corner of Claire’s mouth, trying to elbow Trader out of the way as she repaired the damage.

‘Trader…It will be all right, won’t it?’ faltered Claire, too worried to be put off by Phoenix.

He smiled his tender smile and she was lost in the glittering depths of his eloquent eyes. ‘You’re very precious to me,’ he said huskily.

Then, before she could respond—or even crush the treacherous thought that she had a very precious dowry, he was striding out into the church with her hand tucked in his, excitedly hauling her breathless body past a line of gaping choirboys, past her mother, who kissed her and sniffed away a tear or two, till she came to rest beside her worried-looking father again.

‘Claire’s fine. We’re ready,’ said Trader with a ringing satisfaction.

And the ceremony began again. Throughout, Claire felt a bittersweetness in her heart. All her life, she’d dreamed of this moment and now it had come, it wasn’t as she’d imagined. Even Trader’s loving glances didn’t ease her ache, however hard she tried to tell herself that her love would be enough.

‘You’re very quiet,’ he said gently, during the photographs afterwards.

‘You do love me?’ she blurted out, to her deep embarrassment. ‘Hey, listen to me!’ she joked uncomfortably. ‘I sound like a whining wife already! I mean——’

He was laughing, the lines around his eyes and mouth creasing appealingly. ‘You look up at me with that incredible sweet face, wearing that gorgeous dress filled with your glorious body and you ask me if I——’

‘I mean love,’ she said in reproach. ‘Not physical attraction.’

‘I hadn’t finished. Sexual attraction is an important part of what I feel for you but it’s not enough to make me rush into marriage.’

‘What is?’ she asked, her throat dry.

‘Work it out,’ he teased. ‘I’m thirty-five and I’ve been around a bit. I’ve known many women and I’ve had a couple of serious affairs. Suddenly I decide to get married.’ He bent and dropped a light kiss on her nose, smiling with a loving exasperation. ‘Doesn’t that tell you anything, idiot?’ he asked affectionately.

‘Not really. You could have married me for all kinds of reasons,’ she hinted.

‘I did—dammit, just wait, will you?’ he yelled at the photographer, and everyone laughed when Trader took her in his arms and kissed her stiff mouth very thoroughly, softening it despite her determination not to be coaxed. ‘I’ve married you because you’re reserved, quiet, unassuming and tough,’ he said huskily. His mouth claimed hers again. ‘Because you’re restful to be with and I feel as if I’ve known you all my life. Because we both like silence and remote places and these past few weeks have been the happiest of my life.’

‘Really?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Really,’ he murmured against her soft lips. ‘It’s been wonderful to find peace away from the hurlyburly of life and to be with you. I love you, Claire. Let that be engraved on your heart.’

Dizzily she let him peel her fingers from his chest and blushed as everyone clapped in delight at their sheepish faces. And she held his declaration in her heart and let it comfort her, vowing to think positively about their marriage.

He held her close on the way to the reception at the hotel and she felt content to be in his arms. As various people hugged and congratulated them, she knew her face was glowing with happiness—and so was his.

‘Feel all right now?’ he smiled, as they made their way to their seats at the table. ‘Not worried you’ve married an ogre?’

‘No!’ She smiled back and wanted to explain. ‘But you are a stranger to me and you can’t blame me for wondering if I’ve done the right thing. All I know is that you drink your coffee black and strong, you never eat cake and you’re crazy about sunsets!’

‘Not a bad inventory. You also know I like crispy bacon and fried eggs for breakfast——’

‘Nothing for lunch and that you have a passion for seafood and good wine,’ she said slowly, arranging her dress with care as she sat down on the chair he held for her. She looked up at him thoughtfully. ‘It’s not much to go on, is it? Only a fool would get married knowing so little about someone!’

‘But perhaps it’s only fools who fall in love,’ he said, smiling into her eyes. ‘Common sense vanishes when your heart is committed to someone. Don’t you think it’s exciting to want to be with someone so badly that you’ll risk putting your life in their hands?’

A shiver went up her spine and he must have seen her tremble, because he placed his warm hand on her cold one and massaged it gently.

‘It’s scary,’ she said solemnly. ‘I’ve never taken a risk before.’

‘Look forward to our exploration of each other,’ he said. ‘You know we’re right for each other. Look into my eyes and see the love I have for you. Look into your heart and read what’s written there. You’ll find my name.’

Claire relaxed and kissed him, overwhelmed by the strength of his love. She would trust him because she wanted to. And so she began to enjoy herself, letting her doubts recede and allowing her happiness to shine through.

It seemed that she floated on a cloud all through the meal and the speeches, even when her father rose to speak and Trader sat stiff and tense till he’d finished.

But the strain left his face when the dancing began and Claire was delighted to discover that he seemed reluctant to ever leave her side.

‘People will talk!’ Claire grinned happily, her eyes flirting with Trader as her partner was gently shouldered aside. ‘I finish a dance and you materialise from nowhere—if you haven’t cut in on my partner already!’

‘I don’t want you talking to strange men,’ he said smoothly.

She laughed as he took her in his arms. ‘Well, you’re a strange man—and I’m talking to you!’ Her arms went around his neck. ‘Luke,’ she said reproachfully. ‘I married a Luke Benedict! You fraud! I thought I was getting a guy called Trader!’

He smiled a little thinly. ‘Thank your lucky stars it wasn’t Albert!’ He nuzzled her cheek. ‘If you were surprised,’ he murmured, ‘so was I. When the vicar told me to repeat, “I, Luke, take thee, Claire,” I almost turned around to see who you’d got lined up in the queue behind me!’

Claire laughed delightedly. ‘Then my father had a coughing fit and you scowled at him! Perhaps he thought you were someone else, too!’

‘I think, for a minute, he did,’ Trader murmured drily.

A balloon banged into her head. She turned around, laughing and saw Phoenix smiling at her so she batted the balloon back and Trader quickly whisked her away.

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