The M.D. She Had To Marry. Christine Rimmer
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“Let me put it this way,” she said with heavy irony. “If I ever do get married, it won’t be to a man who’s in love with my big sister.”
He tried not to flinch as the words came at him.
And he did realize the opportunity they presented. Now was his chance to tell her firmly that he was not in love with Jenna. But somehow, he couldn’t quite get the denial out of his mouth.
Lacey smiled sadly, shook her head some more, and murmured his name in a knowing way that made him want to grab her and flip her over his knee and paddle her behind until she admitted he was right and accepted his proposal. Until she confessed how glad she was that he had come at last, that he was ready, willing and able to make everything right.
Lacey wasn’t confessing anything. She said, “I have my own plans. I’m staying here in Wyoming until the baby’s born and I’m back on my feet. Then I’ll return to L.A.”
Absurd, he thought. Impossible. And harebrained, as well. “You can’t be serious. There is no way you can support both yourself and a child on what you make working odd jobs and selling a painting every now and then.”
“We’ll get by. Jenna and I sold our mother’s house. I have money put aside from that, and a new car, so the baby and I will be able to get around. In fact, I have everything I need.” Her full, soft mouth stretched into a smile—a rather forced one this time. “And besides, I know you’ll help out.”
He reminded himself that he would not lose his patience again. She had always been like this. Impetuous and wild. Running away whenever things didn’t go her way. A virtual delinquent as a teenager, hanging out with all the troublemakers at Meadow Valley High. And then, at twenty, taking off for Los Angeles to study under some famous painter, sure she would “make it” as an artist. Six years had gone by since then. She hadn’t made it yet.
Now she proposed to drag his baby to Southern California to scrape and starve right along with her.
It wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll help out, all right,” he said. “We’ll get married. You’ll live with me. You can paint your paintings in Meadow Valley just as well as in L.A.”
“I said no, Logan. And I meant it.”
He folded his arms across his chest—mostly to keep himself from reaching out and strangling her. “This isn’t last September. You can’t just explain to me how I don’t love you and I’m only on the rebound from your sister and it’s time we both moved on.”
“You happened to agree with me last September, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Had he agreed with her? Maybe. He’d been confused as hell last September. Hard to remember now what he had felt then.
Jenna had left with Mack McGarrity.
And then, out of nowhere, her little sister, who had always irritated the hell out of him, showed up on his doorstep, real concern for him in her gorgeous blue eyes and a big chocolate cake in her hands.
“You need chocolate, Dr. Do-Right,” she had said. “Lots of chocolate. And you need it now.”
Dr. Do-Right. He hated it when she called him that. He had opened his mouth to tell her so—and also to tell her to please go away.
But she just pushed past him and kept walking, straight to his kitchen. She put the cake on the counter and began rifling the drawers. It didn’t take her long to find the one with the silverware in it.
“Ah,” she said. “Here we go.” She grabbed a fork, shoved the drawer shut and thrust the fork at him, catching him off guard, so that he took it automatically. “Eat.”
He looked at the fork and he looked at the cake.
Damned if she didn’t know just what he was thinking. “No,” she said. “No plate. No nice little slice cut with a knife. Just stick that fork right in there, just tear off a big, gooey bite.”
He stared at her, stared at her full mouth, at her flushed face, her wide eyes…
And he realized that he was aroused.
Aroused by Jenna’s troublemaking little sister, damned if he wasn’t.
He had set down the fork, backed her up against the counter and spoken right into that deceptively angelic face of hers. “Shouldn’t you be back in L.A. by now?”
Her breathing was agitated, though she tried to play it cool. “I told Jenna I’d take care of things here.”
“I don’t need taking care of.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him through those blue, blue eyes.
“You’d better go,” he had warned.
She made a small, tender sound.
And she shook her head.
They ate the cake some time after midnight, both of them nude, standing in the kitchen, tearing into it with a pair of forks, then feeding each other big, sloppy bites.
Lacey shifted in her chair. Logan’s eyes looked far away. She wondered what he was thinking.
He blinked and came back to himself. “I don’t want to analyze last September. It happened. We weren’t as careful as we should have been and now you’re having my baby. You know damn well how I feel about that.”
Yes, she did know. He was just like Jenna. He wanted children. Several children. He also wanted a nice, settled, stay-at-home wife to take care of those children while he was out healing the ills of the world. A wife like Jenna would have been.
In almost every way, Logan and Jenna had been just right for each other. Too bad Jenna had always loved Mack McGarrity.
Logan held out his hand.
Lacey knew that she shouldn’t, but she took it anyway. He pulled her out of the chair. He would have taken her into his arms, but she resisted that.
Her belly brushed him. They both hitched in a quick breath at the contact and Lacey pulled her hand from his.
She turned toward the table, toward the grocery bags still waiting there, thinking that the move might gain her a little much-needed distance from him.
It didn’t. He stepped up behind her, so that she could feel him, feel the warmth of him, close at her back.
He spoke into her ear, his voice barely a whisper. “You need me now, Lace. Don’t turn me away. Give me a chance. I want to marry you and take care of you…of both of you.”
Oh, those were lovely words. And, yes, they did tempt her.
But it wouldn’t work. She had to remember that. It couldn’t work.
He did not love her. He couldn’t even say that he no longer loved her sister. He’d marry her out of duty, in order to claim his child.
And she would spend her life with him feeling like second best, wondering when he kissed her if he was imagining her sister in his arms. She didn’t want that. They had too many differences as it was. Without love on both sides, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Gently, he took her shoulder, the touch burning a path of longing down inside of her, making her sigh. He turned her to face him.
And he smiled. “I’m feeling pretty determined, Lace.”
She smiled right back at him. “So am I.”
“We’ll see who’s more determined of the two of us. I’m not going away until you come with me.”
“Then you’re in for a long stay in Wyoming.”
“I can stay as long as I have to.”
“You couldn’t stay long enough.”
“Watch me.”
“What about