Читать книгу The Suspect Groom - Cassie Miles, Cassie Miles - Страница 10

The ceremony took less than three minutes. Ivan stepped outside his office and called to Reuben who, in addition to being sheriff, was also a justice of the peace. Apparently, the guests would only be present at the party.

Before Trina had time to reconsider, she’d signed the marriage license and said, “I do.”

“And now,” Reuben said, “following the time-honored tradition, Ivan, you may kiss the bride.”

Ivan caught her in his arms. He pulled her hard against his chest, crushing her breasts. He barely looked at her, then his mouth pressed down so hard that her lip was pinched against her teeth. His physical strength overwhelmed her for a moment. Then, instinctively, she fought him, twisting her head to one side. The more she struggled, the tighter his grasp. Where was the tenderness he’d spoken of? Where was the love? She wrenched away from him, staring in shock. All his lovely promises were erased by the rough brutality of his kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Taking what’s mine. You’re mine now, Trina.”

“No!” She was breathing hard. Her lips were bruised. What had she done? “Don’t you remember, Ivan, in your letters. You talked about a partnership.”

“Partners?” He considered. “In a way, that’s true. You be sure to tell Jake Poynter about that.”

“Who? About what?”

“Run upstairs and get changed.” He turned away from her dismissively. “I don’t want my bride wearing blue jeans.”

“In your letters,” she insisted. “You talked about the lifetime partnership of a man and a woman.”

“Did I? Well, get that notion out of your pretty little head, my bride. You’ll take what I give you and be glad for it. But the only way you’ll ever own anything around here is when I’m dead and gone.”

“Why? Why did you marry me?”

“The usual reasons, I suppose. Plus, my bride, I’ll call you my special little insurance policy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Change your clothes, Trina. You look like hell, and I don’t want you to embarrass me in front of my friends.”

Appalled at his coarseness, she ran from the room, fled upstairs into her pink chamber where her simple wedding gown lay spread across the bed. The dress was a mockery. This marriage was a sham. She’d been manipulated into a hateful, loveless relationship. Why? Why would Ivan Stoddard want that? Why did he mention Jake Poynter? What did he mean when he said she was an insurance policy?

There was a knock at the door, and Maybelle entered uninvited. “Trina, honey, it’s eleven-thirty and you’re still not ready. Let’s get you into that pretty little frock of yours.”

“Did he send you? Did Ivan send you?”

“Yes, he did. Said you might need some help. And, honey, I’ve never seen him looking so happy. He announced to that whole room of women in the kitchen that he was now a married man.”

“Happy?” If his kiss was a display of happiness, Trina would hate to see him in a vindictive mood.

“I’m sure you’re nervous,” Maybelle said. “Perfectly natural for a new bride. Now, let’s get you changed into your wedding gown. Relax, Trina. Enjoy yourself. Everybody’s dying to meet you.”

Numbly, she allowed Maybelle to cajole her into the plain white dress with a touch of lace at the neck and wrists. But Trina felt like she was dressing for an execution instead of a wedding reception. There was only one hope she could cling to. David. She needed to talk with him, to have him soothe her fears. She’d made the wrong decision, she was sure of that. And she needed to get away. She wanted David to take her away from here, to ride off beside her into the magnificent Alaskan snow vistas.

“Come on, now,” Maybelle said. “Let’s see a smile.”

Trina didn’t dare smile. If she did, her face would crack. She’d burst into hysterics. The last thing she wanted to do was attend a party and listen to people say, “Many happy returns.” Quickly, she finished buttoning her dress. “I’ll be right down, Maybelle. As soon as I fix my hair.”

“You hurry up. Put a hustle in your bustle. The party’s going to start, and I’m afraid it’s going to be a short one. A couple of snowflakes have already fallen.”

The door closed behind the housekeeper, and Trina yanked out her braid and pulled a brush through her thick, unruly hair. Outside her window, crystals of snow drifted lazily down. Have you ever caught a snowflake and held it in your hand? She remembered David saying that. Oh, David, I need to talk with you. You’re my only friend.

She hurried through hallways and corridors, avoiding everyone until she was downstairs in the large room outside David’s office and bedroom. Orange flames crackled in the moss rock fireplace.

Taking a deep breath, she flung open the door to his office. He wasn’t there. Nor was he in his bedroom. Where was he? She needed him.

Heartsick, Trina sank down on the ledge beside the fireplace, not caring if the soot marked her wedding gown. It was only a dress. She hadn’t even worn it during the three-minute civil ceremony. Like everything else, the dress was a fraud. She wasn’t a bride. Ivan had made that quite clear. Trina belonged to him. She was a...a possession.

Oh, David, where are you?

It wasn’t too late, she told herself. She could still annul the marriage. And that was exactly what she intended to do. There was no way in hell that she would go to bed with Ivan Stoddard.

The door from outside shoved open and David stomped inside. He pulled off his vest and Stetson, then turned and saw her. “Trina? What are you doing here?”

“I need a friend.”

“Looks to me like you’ve got a whole house full of people who want that job. Out front, it looks like a parking lot. And they’re all here to meet you.”

David’s hesitant smile broke her heart. He was being polite, being happy for her when she had no reason for joy.

Trina wished she was confident enough to wear her eyeglasses so she could clearly see every detail of David’s features. She was glad when he came closer, within her field of clear vision. He sat beside her on the wide stone ledge beside the hearth. His voice was gentle and his words were sweet. “You’re a beautiful bride. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a sight so pretty as you, sitting here, straight and proud, with firelight dancing in your hair.”

Not thinking, she reached out and touched his cheek, still cold from being outside. He wore a cowboy’s version of dress-up clothing, a navy blue shirt with fancy buttons and black trousers. She realized with a shock that she wished he could have been her groom.

“Ivan’s a lucky man,” he said. “So, when’s the ceremony?”

“It’s over.”

The stillness in the room became thick and palpable, filled with the weight of her regret. She saw the question in David’s eyes as he took her hand and held it. He whispered, “Why, Trina?”

“It happened so fast. Reuben was right there, pronouncing us man and wife before I had a chance to think.” She turned toward the fire. “No, that’s not true. I agreed to marry him of my own free will. Nobody forced me to sign the marriage license. I did it because Ivan and I were alone for a moment, and he reminded me of the man who wrote those letters. Those damn letters. I was fool enough to believe every word he’d written.” She turned to him. “David, I fell in love before I even came to Alaska. I fell in love with words on a page. I know that’s crazy.”

“Not crazy at all.”

“But the words were lies.” She had wanted so badly to be in love that she’d fallen for a con job, a crude scam. “I was blind. I was so gullible.”

“If it was a mistake, Trina, it can be fixed.”

“But I can never trust my feelings again. Never.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I was a fool. Ivan used those letters to make me think he was someone else, someone sensitive and caring. He’s not the same man as the one who wrote to me about waterfalls and migrating birds and lonely Alaskan nights. I can’t explain it. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes.”

David understood only too well. For David had written those letters.

He gazed into her eyes, regretting her pain and wishing there were some easy cure for her aching heart. He had never meant to hurt her. His stumble into deception had begun innocently enough.

When Ivan placed his advertisement for a mail-order bride in a nationally distributed magazine, the response was astounding. Over a hundred women replied, sending along photos and brief letters. Since it was David’s job to hire and fire new employees, the letters ended up on his desk. He composed a standard response for the eighty or so that Ivan rejected based solely on their photographs. To the others, David wrote a discouraging letter about the hardships of living in Alaska. Only five responded a second time. Among them was Trina.

He still remembered her letter, which was intelligent, witty and full of hope. She’d spoken of companionship, not passion. And her yearning for adventure rang true. He rejected the other four and started their month-long correspondence. Every night, before going to bed, he composed a letter on his word processor and signed it with Ivan’s name. As he grew more fond of her, his letters took an intimate turn. Writing to her and reading her responses became his favorite time of day.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he was signing Ivan’s name, but he avoided thinking ahead to the time when she would actually be here. She would never be his. She belonged to Ivan, a wealthy and powerful man. Desperately, he had tried not to care too much.

When he met her at the airport, he should have told her. Yesterday, when they sat in this room, he should have explained. He cursed his cowardice, damn every word and phrase he had written. Right this moment, as he gazed into her pure blue eyes, he should tell her.

“David? Have you ever been in love?”

“I was married once.”

“So was I,” she said wryly. “I am now. But that’s not what I asked.”

“I loved my wife when I met her. I was going to school in northern California, and we settled there. I don’t know what happened. Maybe we were too young. Anyway, we grew apart.” He winced at the memory. “We had two small children, a boy and a girl. Not a day passes when I don’t think of them.”

“Are they still in California?”

He nodded. “I couldn’t stand to be in the same state and not be with them. I came back here, home to Alaska, and buried myself in work for Ivan. Needless to say, he was only too glad to have a foreman who wanted to put in twenty-four-hour workdays and have no other life.”

“Seems like a lot of people come to Alaska for that reason...to run away from something.” She paused, twisted the engagement ring on her finger. “I thought I was running toward something. But it’s not here.” She rose to her feet. “I can’t stay here. I’m going upstairs to change clothes. Will you drive me to town, David? I’ll find my way from there.”

“You’re leaving?” A shock went through him as he stood beside her. He didn’t want her to go. Even if she was married to Ivan, he wanted to be near her.

“I can’t stay. I don’t love Ivan, and I doubt that I ever will.” She bit her lower lip. “I mean, look at me, dressed like a bride when I have no love in my heart. I dislike Ivan. In time, I might learn to despise him.”

“But, Trina—”

“No. If I stay, I’m as big a liar as he is. Maybe I already am. I didn’t tell the truth in my letters, you know. I’m not twenty-five, I’m ten years older. Old enough to know better than to make plans based on promises and dreams.”

“Never give up on your dreams, Trina.”

She looked into his eyes. “But they’ll have to be dreams, deferred. Maybe someday I’ll be able to do this right.”

“Don’t go.” He held her chin in his hand. “I’d miss you too much.”

“That’s kind for you to say. But you hardly know me.”

“I know you better than you think. Don’t leave. Not yet.”

“But I can’t stay. I can’t....”

She watched as he gently came closer. At the last second, her eyelids closed, and she tasted his lips in a firm but gentle kiss. A tremor went through her. She felt lighter than air, ephemeral as a snowflake.

Of their own volition, her arms reached for him. Without opening her eyes, she clung to him. His second kiss wakened the sweetest sensations. Sheer pleasure blossomed within her. This was the way a kiss should be, a prelude to desire.

The door to the room pitched open. “Hey, David. Get on out here, the party’s going and—”

David turned, tried to shield her from the intruder’s view. “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, dang.” It was the voice of Sheriff Reuben Kittridge. “I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.... Is that you, Trina? Oh, dang.”

She heard the door bang shut. She probably should have been embarrassed, but Trina was beyond humiliation. “Now I’m really in trouble, huh? I feel like I’m in grade school, and I just got caught by the principal.”

“Are you going to be all right, Trina?”

“I’ll survive. But I’m not much in the mood for a party. I guess I need to talk to Ivan before I leave the lodge.” She plucked the diamond from her finger. “And I need to return this.”

“I’ll come with you,” David said.

“That’s all right. All I need is for you to drive me into town after I talk to Ivan.”

“Trina.” David stilled her protests by placing his finger crosswise on her lips. “I will be with you when you talk to Ivan.”

A sudden warmth coursed through her veins. She felt safer and stronger than any other time during this Alaska sojourn. “Thank you, David. I would appreciate that.”

“Ivan’s a smooth talker. I know from experience.”

They made their way to the kitchen. David advised her to hold back while he called Maybelle to one side. “Where’s Ivan?”

“Well, it’s the silliest thing I’ve ever seen. He comes in here, blabs to the world that he’s a married man, says I should check on Trina, then tells me he’ll be in his study and is not to be disturbed. I’ve knocked a couple of times, but he doesn’t answer.”

“How long has he been in there?”

“Well, gosh, it was about eleven-thirty when he came into the kitchen. And now it’s almost twelve-thirty. Everybody’s here. They all want to meet Trina and offer their congratulations before this little confetti snow turns into a blizzard.”

David grabbed Trina’s hand and whisked her past the clusters of guests down the hallway and to the office door. He tried to turn the knob. It was locked. He tapped, then called Ivan’s name. Under his breath, he muttered, “I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing. Wait here, I’ll get a key.”

Trina stood uncomfortably, trying to look inconspicuous in her wedding gown. It didn’t help when Maybelle grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the living room to the dining room to show her the two long tables on which gifts and flowers were displayed. Near the gifts was a three-tiered, fancy white cake with a tiny statue of a bride and groom on top. Maybelle continued toward the guests.

“Please, Maybelle. Not now.”

“Okay, honey. You say when.”

Trina returned to the entryway outside the office door. After a moment, the guests began to appear nearby. It seemed to Trina that they were closing in like wolves for the kill.

One man separated from the others. Like her, he was dressed all in white. His snowy turtleneck was tucked into white flannel slacks. His belt and boots were a pale leather. In contrast, his hair was coal black and his complexion was darkly tanned. Though he dressed like a dandy, he exuded an aggressive, masculine strength. “I’m Jacob Poynter.”

She remembered Maybelle’s description. “You’re the Olympic champion.”

“That was a long time ago.” He gave a practiced, self-deprecating grin. “And you must be the bride-to-be. It’s Trina, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, wishing she could fade into the wainscoting. Where was David?

“Will we be treated to a wedding ceremony?” Jake asked. “I didn’t know that Ivan was religious.”

“No ceremony, actually. It’s already taken place.” She bit her tongue. Why had she said anything? The last thing she wanted was a string of phony congratulations. “Please don’t mention this to anyone.”

“Are you saying that you and Ivan are already married?”

“We signed a license and said ‘I do.’ He kissed me.” She shuddered. “I don’t know if that means anything.”

He downed his drink in one gulp. It was white wine, of course, to match his outfit. “Congratulations, Trina. You’re a wealthy woman now.”

“Thanks.” She might be wealthy now, but not for long. Whatever had occurred between herself and Ivan—and Trina didn’t consider that brief civil ceremony to be anything like a true marriage—was over and done with. She might be throwing away a fortune, but she felt free. Leaving was the right thing to do.

David returned with the key. Maybelle was right behind him. “When?” Maybelle demanded. As soon as she spotted Trina, she said, “When do we make the announcement?”

David opened the door to the study and flicked on the overhead light. The room looked like an avalanche had rolled through it. File drawers were yanked open and the contents strewn. The fax machine had been torn open and gutted. The computer and modem were similarly disabled. Ivan was nowhere in sight.