Hawk's Way: Carter & Falcon. Joan Johnston
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couldn’t read his mind. She deserved better from the man who had just become her husband.
Carter pulled his truck up beside Desiree’s pickup in back of the house. His wife and new daughter were already inside the house before he could catch up to them. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said Desiree was fleeing from him. If she was, she was wasting her time. Now that they were married, there was no place for her to run.
Desiree hurried to make herself busy before Carter came inside. She turned up the furnace and slipped off her coat and Nicole’s and sent her daughter upstairs to play.
Then she returned to the kitchen and waited beside the stove, her arms crossed over her chest. Carter didn’t bother to knock before he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t bother to close the door, either, just headed straight for her, his stride determined. A moment later he had swept her off her feet and into his arms.
Desiree grabbed hold of his neck, afraid for a moment he might drop her. His arms tightened around her, and she knew there was no danger of that. He headed right back outside.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with trepidation.
“There’s a tradition that hasn’t been observed.”
“What’s that?”
Once he was outside, he paused long enough to glare down at her. Through clenched teeth he said, “Carrying the bride over the threshold.” He turned around and marched right back into the kitchen.
Desiree was too astonished to protest. She stared up at his rigid jaw and realized again how little they knew of each other. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it, or I would have waited. But we never discussed—”
“There are a lot of things we haven’t discussed. I guess it’s going to take a while for us to adjust to each other.”
He was still holding her in his arms. Desiree became increasingly uncomfortable, as another kind of tension began to grow between them. She recognized the signs on Carter’s face. The drooping eyelids, the nostrils flared for the scent of her, the jumping pulse at his throat. She began to struggle for freedom.
“Let me go. Let me down. Now!”
His hold tightened. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Let me go!” she shrieked.
A moment later she was on her feet. She retreated from him several paces, until her back was against the wall. She stared at him, eyes wide, blood racing. “We agreed we would wait!” she accused.
“I only wanted a kiss,” he said.
She shook her head. “No kissing, no touching, nothing until we know each other,” she insisted.
Desiree watched a muscle jerk in his jaw. She knew he could force her. Burley had. She reached behind her surreptitiously with one hand, searching for a weapon on the counter. But there was nothing close by.
“What did he do to you?” Carter asked in a quiet voice.
“What makes you think—”
“Every time I move too fast you flinch like a horse that’s been whipped. You’re trembling like a beaten animal right now. And the look in your eyes…I’ve seen men facing a nest of rattlers who’ve looked less terrified. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out you’ve been mistreated. Do you want to tell me about it?”
Desiree couldn’t get an answer past the lump in her throat. She lowered her eyes to avoid his searching gaze. She couldn’t help jerking when he reached out a hand to her.
Carter swore under his breath. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated through clenched teeth.
Desiree forced herself to remain still as he reached out again for her chin and tipped it up so they were staring into each other’s eyes.
“You’re my wife. We’ll be spending the rest of our lives together. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you to accept me in your bed.”
“No kissing, no—”
He shook his head. “There’ll be kissing, and hugging and touching. Even friends do that much.”
“But—”
He cut her off by putting his lips against hers. Desiree fought the panic, reminding herself that his first kiss had been gentle. This one was no less so, just the barest touch of lips, but she felt a shock clear to her toes. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Oh, no, it wasn’t bad at all.
Luckily, his lips left hers just at the moment when she felt herself ready to struggle in earnest. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he hadn’t retreated very far.
“Desiree?”
“Carter, I…I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper.
He drew her slowly into his arms. As his strength enfolded her she forced herself to relax. It wasn’t easy. Burley had sometimes begun gently, only to lose control later.
Carter’s arms remained loose around her. In a few minutes she realized she was no longer trembling, that she was almost relaxed in his embrace.
“This is nice,” he murmured in her ear. “You feel good against me.”
Desiree stiffened. She knew he felt her withdrawal when he said, “It’s all right, Desiree. It’s just a hug, nothing more. Relax, sweetheart.”
He cajoled her much as he might a reluctant mare, and she found herself responding to his warm baritone voice. She laid her head against his chest and tentatively put her hands at his trim waist.
Just as she made those gestures of concession, he stepped back from her. She raised her eyes to his in confusion. She hadn’t expected him to stop. But she was glad he had.
“How soon will lunch be ready?” he asked.
Desiree turned quickly to the oven. She had completely forgotten about the roast beef during the past tension-filled minutes. “It should be done shortly.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Desiree raised startled eyes to study Carter’s face. “You’re willing to help in the kitchen?”
“Why not?”
Burley never had. Burley had said the kitchen was woman’s work. “You could set the table if you’d like.”
Carter took the initiative and started hunting through cabinets for what he wanted. “Best way to find out where everything is,” he explained with a cheeky grin.
“You’re probably right.” Desiree found herself smiling back, even though it was unsettling to see a stranger going through everything as though he had the right.
He has the right. He’s your husband.
As she peeled potatoes and put vegetables in a pot on the stove, Desiree realized she had been extraordinarily lucky in her second choice of husband. Carter wasn’t like Burley. He could control his passions. It was too bad he was getting such a bad bargain. She couldn’t be the wife he obviously wanted and needed. She was too bruised in spirit to respond as he wished.
Desiree had planned this dinner at home because she had feared that conversation between them would be stilted, and it would be embarrassing to sit across from each other in a restaurant in total silence. However, when the three of them sat down together, things didn’t turn out at all as she had expected. Carter, bless him, wasn’t the least bit taciturn. He even condescended to answer several of Nicole’s questions. However, when Nicole finished eating and approached Carter, Desiree realized there were limits to his tolerance.
“Can I sit on your lap?” Nicole asked.
“You’re a big girl,” Carter replied.
“Not too big,” Nicole