Wanted: Texas Daddy. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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know what, forget I even said that.” Sage squared her slender shoulders, as if she were going into battle. “It’s never a good idea to look a gift horse in the mouth. Particularly when you have the biggest business deal of your life pending.”
Bless her generous heart. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
She nodded, then said with her newfound practicality, “What’s the alternative, anyway? Go back to our original plan, spend the night in my apartment and forego any celebration of our nuptials?” She rose on tiptoe and whispered seductively in his ear, “If we go to Dallas, at least we’ll have our privacy.”
Given the scrutiny they’d been under all evening, there was definitely something to be said for that.
* * *
“WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD,” Nick murmured in Sage’s ear, several hours later.
With effort, she opened her eyes. They were indeed at the luxury hotel. Apparently, she’d slept the entire journey. “What time is it?” she asked, blinking herself awake.
“Two thirty.”
He still looked good. More than good, actually, in that dark tuxedo.
She smothered a yawn and tore her eyes from the hard sinew of his chest beneath his snowy white shirt. “Sorry I was such bad company.”
He hugged her close, then kissed her temple and the top of her head. “I slept, too.”
She drew back slightly and tipped her head up to his. He was definitely wide-awake now. With plenty of energy. The kind that usually presaged incredible lovemaking.
She tingled all over, just thinking about it.
His sexy grin widening, he teased, “Ready for the best part of the entire festivity?”
She placed a hand flirtatiously across her heart. She did not have to pretend to feel swept away. “Oh my.”
His low masculine laugh filled the interior of the limo. “Oh my is right.” He brought her close for a long lingering kiss, ended only by the intrusion of their driver opening the door. Nick emerged first, then assisted her in getting out, not an easy thing, given the fact that they were still in their wedding finery and the silk chiffon skirt of her dress was poufed enough to disguise her pregnancy. The driver followed them with the bags they had hastily packed before leaving Laramie County. Nick at his ranch house, she at her apartment on her way out of town.
They swept through the lobby, getting grins from everyone who saw them. “Congratulations!” more than one person called out as they signed in.
The bellhop escorted them to their suite and set their suitcases in the bedroom. He returned with a flourish, announcing, “Metro Equity Partners thought you might be in need of a late-night supper. So...” Another uniformed attendant rolled a room service table into the living room.
Silver-domed dishes were placed on an elegantly made-up table for two, next to an ice bucket containing a bottle of exquisite champagne, sparkling water and ginger ale.
Which was good, Sage thought.
Because now that she was awake, she was feeling a little nauseated. She wondered if there were any crackers in the minibar. If not, the elegant dinner rolls in the basket would probably take the edge off.
She smiled appreciatively as Nick tipped the attendants. “Seems like the partners have thought of everything.”
“Let us know if we can do anything else.” The attendants disappeared.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starved,” Nick said.
He took off the lids with a flourish.
The roasted filet mignon and butter poached lobster tail had her feeling a little iffy, but it was the garlic prawns with Cajun aioli that really sent Sage over the edge.
* * *
“SAGE, COME ON, open the door.”
She leaned over the toilet bowl, arms folded over the cool porcelain. “No.”
“I sent all the fish away.”
She closed her eyes against the husky rumble of his voice. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Ah, actually, Sage? I kind of think I did.”
How could he maintain his sense of humor when she had just ruined everything? She moaned again, in even more distress. “I’m sorry.”
The other door that opened up off the bedroom, the one she hadn’t time or foresight to lock, swung inward. Nick strolled in. “What do you have to be sorry about?” He knelt down beside her.
He cupped a hand beneath her chin, and regarded her tenderly. “You’re pregnant. I’m the one who should have thought to ask what was in there first, before lifting the room service domes and treating you to all those aromas.”
The memory of the sights and smells made her shudder with distaste.
“I’m guessing it was the shrimp.”
“Prawns,” she admitted with difficulty. “And yes.” My heavens, yes.
He stroked a hand through her hair—or tried—the elegantly upswept curls were still heavily lacquered into place. “I’ve seen people throw up before, you know.” He wet a washcloth with cool water, wrung it out and placed it on the back of her neck.
She wallowed in her misery. “You haven’t seen me.”
He gazed at her possessively. “If we’re living together, that is going to change.”
What was he talking about? Sage sat back on her haunches and stared at him. “Living together?” she repeated.
“Well—” he shrugged, pausing to get comfortable, too “—now that we’re married, I figured we’d spend the night together whenever I am in town, and then when the baby comes, and I don’t have to travel so much...”
As much as Sage wanted to lean on him then, the way she was now, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “You know this isn’t a real marriage.” More like a convenient arrangement. For business reasons.
“It can still be any kind of union we want it to be.”
Why did he have to look so sexy? Especially under these circumstances? He should be irritated. Repelled. Not ready to move in with her!
Proceeding cautiously, she asked, “What kind of union do you want it to be?”
Mischief twinkled in his deep blue eyes. “The kind where we have a lot of great sex.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “You would say that now.” When I’ve just finished throwing up and feel and look like death warmed over.
Chivalrously, Nick helped her to her feet. “And have long talks,” he said. “The kind that last all night.”
She could go with that. It was what brought them together in the first place.
Tilting her head to study him closely, she murmured, “Or times when we say nothing at all, and it’s still okay.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Shakily, she headed for her suitcase to get her toiletries bag. Nick stood by, ready to help if need be, as she removed her toothpaste and brush and then returned to the bathroom. Still fighting residual waves of nausea, Sage tried not to think how intimate this all was. “What else?”
He lounged a short distance away as she brushed her teeth, then handed her a towel. “I’d like to know we could be apart and still do our own thing and still be okay.”
Sage blotted her mouth. “We will be.”
He smoothed a stray curl from her cheek and admitted softly, “And I’d like to think that when the baby comes, we’ll also enjoy spending lots of time together as a family,