Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach (13 page)

Rebecca was ashamed to admit the answer to Zach’s query. Quite simply, she had been jealous of a dead woman. She played with the black curls that covered his chest, avoiding a response.

Zach wouldn’t allow it. He put a forefinger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “I’d like an explanation.”

“There’s a picture of Cynthia in the bedroom,” she said in a quiet voice.

Zach stiffened. “And you were staking your claim?”

She peered at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Something like that. Did it work?”

“Cynthia can’t compete or complain. She’s dead.”

“Then you won’t mind if I put away that picture on your dresser,” she retorted.

“Putting the picture away won’t make any difference.”

Rebecca felt the knot return to her stomach. It didn’t matter whether she removed the photograph because the image of Cynthia would always be with him. So, perhaps it was better to leave it there until Zach was ready to put it away, along with his memories of his first—his only?—love.

Actually, Zach no longer needed the picture of Cynthia to remind him of her perfidy. Images of her face on the last day he had seen her had been permanently
graven in his soul. But he used the photo to remind him that a woman couldn’t be trusted. Looking at Cynthia every day for the past seven years had reinforced his distrust of women and kept him from letting himself get too deeply involved with one of them.

“Go ahead and get rid of it,” Zach said.

“You do it. Whenever you’re ready.”

“All right.”

But Zach didn’t jump right up and run to the bedroom, as Rebecca had hoped he would. Instead, he said, “How about a shower?”

“Together?” Rebecca asked, startled—and intrigued—by the suggestion.

“Sure. Why not?” He was on his feet a moment later and pulled her up beside him.

They stripped where they were and walked naked down the hall to Zach’s bathroom. Rebecca kept sneaking glances at Zach, admiring his lean flanks, his flat belly, and the genitals resting in a nest of dark curls. As his body hardened in response to her avid gaze, she wondered how on earth he had managed to fit inside her.

He met her incredulous glance and grinned. “If you see anything you especially like, feel free to help yourself.”

“I like it all,” Rebecca retorted, chagrined that he had caught her gawking. “But a hand wouldn’t be very useful without an arm to guide it, and if I took a leg, you might have some trouble walking.”

Zach laughed as he pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her throat beneath her ear. “I can see you’re going to keep me on my toes, kid.”

“Actually, I think I’d like you better flat on your back…with me on top of you.”

Rebecca lowered her eyes, amazed at her own audacity.

Zach shot a surprised look in her direction. “Really? I’ll be glad to give it a try…after we shower.”

Rebecca had never had her hair washed by a lover, and she was amused by Zach’s playful antics. Part of the excitement in playing with him was the knowledge that at any moment his touches could become caresses.

When they did, she was stunned by the strength of her response to him. For once she was glad to be so much smaller than Zach. He lifted her legs around his waist as they coupled, easily supporting her for the thrusts that led to the culmination of their desire.

Then they showered all over again. When they were done, he wrapped her in a towel and carried her to his bedroom. He joined her in his mussed-up bed, where they reminded each other in murmurs that they had to get to the lawyer’s office by three, then promptly fell asleep.

Rebecca woke feeling warm and safe and realized she was snuggled deep in Zach’s embrace. Then the hairs prickled on the back of her neck. She froze, and her heart began to thunder in her breast.

Someone else was in the room.

Rebecca clutched the sheet to her breasts as she sat up. Zach was slower to wake and let the sheets fall where they would as he shoved himself into a sitting position.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone in here.”

Zach looked around the room, then rose and moved toward the door. He looked out into the hall, then shut the door. He walked to the bathroom and checked, then checked the walk-in closet. He came back and stood before her with his hands on his hips. “There’s no one in here but us, kid.”

“There is!”

“Want me to check under the bed for green-eyed monsters?”

Rebecca flushed. “I didn’t imagine it, Zach. There was someone here.” She spotted the picture of Cynthia on the dresser over Zach’s shoulder and froze.

Zach turned to look at what had caught her eye. He walked over to the picture, braced his hands against the dresser and dropped his head between his shoulders. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Rebecca leapt from the bed, dragging the sheet along with her. “I don’t, either.” But she had no other explanation for her strong feeling that there was another presence in the room.

He turned to face her. “You don’t need the sheet. There’s no one here but me.”

Rebecca felt the heat skating up her throat. It was absurd to hide herself from him. He had already seen everything there was to see, and in a matter of hours he would be her husband. And he obviously wasn’t shy about his nudity. She stubbornly tightened her hold on the sheet. “I don’t usually walk around naked,” she said primly.

He grabbed a corner of the sheet and began to tug on it. “I want to see you.”

“Not now, Zach,” she said in a whispered hiss.

“Why not now?”

Her eyes strayed to the picture on the dresser. The other woman stared back at her.

Zach reached behind him and turned Cynthia’s photo around the other way. “Does that help?”

Actually, it did.

Zach kept tugging until he had Rebecca between his
legs. He backed her to the edge of the bed, then turned and sat down and pulled her into his lap. “Cynthia was a part of my past. She’s no threat to you.”

“You’re still in love with her,” Rebecca accused.

“She’s dead.”

That didn’t change what Rebecca had said. It was probably futile to argue the issue with Zach, but she wasn’t willing to concede it, either. “Zach—”

His callused hand surrounded her nape and drew her head toward him so he could cover her mouth with his. She was still in a daze when he said, “Come on, kid. It’s time to go get married. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late for our own wedding.”

It didn’t make much sense to argue with that.

Z
ACH’S ENTIRE FAMILY WAS
waiting for them on the courthouse steps—his parents, his siblings and their spouses and all their children. Rebecca felt a rush of butterflies in her stomach.

“I didn’t know your family would be here.”

“Couldn’t keep them away. Mom and Dad didn’t attend either Falcon’s or Callen’s wedding. I’m the last of the Three Whitelaw Brats to get married, so they sure weren’t going to miss this one.”

“Hello, Rebecca,” Zach’s mother said with a warm smile. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Glad to see my son has a little sense, anyway,” Zach’s father said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

Rebecca found herself figuratively enfolded in the Whitelaw family’s embrace. It felt good. It felt wonderful. Here was the family she had missed since her father had died. Here was the warmth and comfort she had been seeking all those years since she had left Hawk’s Pride. She slipped her arm through Zach’s. A man who came from a family with this much love in it couldn’t have forgotten the feeling. He just had to be reminded, and it would all come back to him.

She suddenly felt a whole lot better about getting married. After the afternoon they had spent loving each
other, she had every reason to hope their marriage would be successful. If she was lucky, she might already be pregnant.

Rebecca was glad, now that she saw how important this wedding was to Zach’s family, that she had dressed for the occasion and insisted that Zach do the same.

She was wearing a soft off-white buckskin ceremonial Indian dress. It had a lovely pattern of colorful beads across the bodice and was fringed along the hem and sleeves. She wore matching knee-high buckskin moccasins. A beaded headband across her brow held her hair in place. The ceremonial dress had been worn by her mother when she was married, and by her grandmother before that, going back several generations. She had cajoled Zach into donning a black Western tailored suit with a white dress shirt, bolo tie and black boots.

Zach slipped a possessive arm around Rebecca’s waist and began herding his family into the courthouse. “We might as well get on with it. Day’s wasting.”

Zach was surprised at the tightness in his chest and the ache in his throat when Judge Smithers began the legal ceremony. It wasn’t a real marriage; it was simply a business arrangement. He realized now why Rebecca had seemed anxious at the thought of so much family present.

He was aware of his mother weeping quietly to his left, his father’s arm around her shoulder. He could hear Callen and Sam’s twins arguing over a doll and Callen’s futile whispered attempts to shush them. He saw from the corner of his eye how his brother, Falcon, held his wife, Mara, and stepdaughter, Susannah, close with an arm around each of them, and how Mara cuddled their son, Cody, to her breast. Susannah’s leukemia had been
in remission for four and a half years now. Six more months and the whole family could breathe a huge sigh of relief that she had made it past the five-year mark and was out of danger.

Having family here made what was happening more real. He had wanted the legal ties, but speaking vows to Rebecca with his mom and dad present made his throat close up tight. The surge of emotions was unexpected and unwelcome. He reminded himself that he wasn’t marrying to get a wife, he had merely selected an appropriate mother for his children.

He felt Rebecca’s hand trembling in his as he slipped a plain gold band on her finger. It dawned on him that his family was liable to raise quite a ruckus if he ended up having to divorce her in a year.

“You may kiss the bride,” Judge Smithers said at last.

Zach caught his breath at the look in Rebecca’s eyes when she turned her face up to his. A single diamond teardrop slipped from her eye. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and kissed the tear away. Then he caught her chin with his hand and tipped her mouth up to his.

He kissed her lightly and released her, afraid to do more than that, afraid to claim her mouth with his, as he felt the strong desire to do. No sense planting any more false hopes in his family than were already rooted there.

“Congratulations, son.” His father hugged him hard and then turned to take both of Rebecca’s hands in his. “I know you’re going to make Zach happy. I hope this marriage turns out as well as those of my other two children have. My best wishes for a long and fruitful life for both of you.”

This was getting worse and worse. He watched with alarm as his tearful mother hugged her new daughter-in-law.

“Welcome to the family, Rebecca. I wasn’t in favor of Zach’s method of choosing a wife, but I’m so pleased that it brought you to him.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Whitelaw.”

“Please, call me Candy. Or Mom, if you wish.”

Rebecca shot him a look of desperation, and Zach recognized her dilemma. To call his mom “Candy” would be to deny the relationship his mother so obviously hoped would develop between them. To call her “Mom” was to set everyone up for greater heartache if the marriage ended in a year.

Zach came to his wife’s rescue, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her snug against his side. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, saving Rebecca from having to say anything at all.

“I’ve got a wedding cake and some supper at Hawk’s Way for everybody,” his mother said. “Will you and Rebecca come?”

How could he deny the look of entreaty in his mother’s eyes? He fought the grimace and managed a crooked smile. “Sure, Mom. Becky and I have to make a stop by the house first, but we’ll be there.”

To Zach’s mortification, his sister had brought rice for everyone to throw on the courthouse steps—only, it was birdseed instead of rice. It wasn’t entirely inappropriate to observe that ritual of fertility, he thought. But it was one more indication that his family expected the marriage to thrive and prosper. He hoped and prayed it did.

He grabbed Rebecca’s hand and ran for his pickup,
dragging her behind, only to discover that Just Married had been scrawled across the back window with shaving cream, and a host of boots and cans had been tied to the back end.

He wanted to laugh and curse at the same time. Didn’t they get it? It wasn’t real. He had married for convenience. He didn’t want all these trappings. They made him uncomfortable and forced him to confront the utter unfairness of the bargain he had made with Rebecca.

From the grim look on her face, she wasn’t any more happy with the situation than he was.

Zach heard the shouts of laughter as he picked Rebecca up and practically threw her into the seat of the pickup before running around the hood and letting himself inside. He gunned the engine and peeled rubber as he left the cluster of well-wishers behind.

As soon as he hit the edge of town, he slowed down.

“Is there something you really want from the house, or was that a ploy to avoid your family for a little while longer?”

Zach sighed. “Was it that obvious?”

“It was to me. I don’t think your family noticed. They have no idea, do they, Zach, about the truth of our relationship?”

“No.”

Rebecca groaned. “I can’t possibly call your mother ‘Mom’ under the circumstances. But I’m afraid otherwise I’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Then call her ‘Mom,’” Zach said irritably.

“What if I don’t get pregnant, Zach? What if this all turns out to be a farce?”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now, we just do what’s necessary to get through the day.”

Zach stopped at the house, knowing he had to pick something up or have his lie exposed. When he stepped inside the house behind Rebecca, he knew exactly why he would have come straight home if this had really been his wedding day. He caught his wife’s wrist and stopped her just inside the kitchen door.

“Hey, kid.”

His voice was low and vibrant, and Rebecca felt a shiver of expectation scurry up her spine. She turned as Zach tugged on her hand until she was facing him. His hand caught under her chin and lifted her face until she had no choice except to look at him.

“Hello, wife.”

It had a good sound, a marvelous sound. “Hello, Zach.” She caught the edge of a frown. Had he expected her to call him husband? She wanted to, desperately. But she had begun to realize that she needed to protect herself if she was going to survive the coming year. Zach had made the rules. She had to follow them. That meant keeping her distance emotionally to the extent it was possible. At least until she was pregnant. Then it would be safe to love him, but not until then.

He made a growling sound in his throat. “Lord, how I want you!”

“Now? But we have to get to Hawk’s Way—”

He shook his head. “Not right away. Not for as long as it would take me to love you.”

Rebecca felt goose bumps the size of eggs pop up on her arms at the thought of repeating what had happened earlier in the day. “Oh, Zach.”

He didn’t need more invitation than that.

“Let’s get out of these clothes,” he said.

Rebecca watched as Zach yanked off his boots, then
grabbed for his bolo tie. In moments he was stripped bare. He was already aroused, and she was intimidated by the size of him.

She had dragged her dress off and quickly slipped out of the silk bra and panties that were all she had worn under the buckskin, but Zach was way ahead of her.

“Leave the moccasins on,” he said in a sharp voice.

Rebecca froze. She was naked except for the headband and moccasins. Somehow she didn’t feel self-conscious, not with the clear look of admiration in Zach’s dark eyes.

He fingered the beaded headband and let his hand smooth down the length of her hair to cup her breast. “You look so beautiful…my very own Indian princess.”

His eyes were heavy-lidded, his nostrils flared for the scent of her. He reached out and drew her close, sliding her into the cradle of his thighs. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

This time Rebecca knew what to expect, or thought she did. Only, this time, Zach was in no hurry at all. He took his time kissing first one side of her mouth, then the other, before stroking the length of her closed lips with his tongue. She gasped, and his tongue slid inside, warm and wet and demanding.

His hands caressed their way down her back to her buttocks and then between her legs, forcing her to spread them so that he could reach her nether lips. Her knees nearly buckled as he slid a finger inside her. And another. His teeth caught on an earlobe and nipped until the pleasure turned to pain. He soothed the hurt with kisses.

Abruptly, he picked her up and carried her toward the bedroom. Only, to her surprise, he didn’t stop there. He
shoved open the sliding glass door and stepped out into the sunlight.

The arbor was as beautiful as she had remembered. The air seemed misted with the fragrant scent of wisteria. He laid her down in the cool grass and mantled her body with his own.

She grasped his forearms as he spread her legs with his knees, and gave a startled cry when he thrust inside her to the hilt.

“Are you all right?”

Her blood was racing, her pulse was pounding, but there were flowers overhead and birdsong and sunlight dappled by the giant oak. She was more than all right. “I’m fine, Zach. Oh, I’m very fine.”

He slid his hands beneath her and supported her as he made slow, delicious love to her.

Rebecca began to writhe beneath the onslaught of his mouth and body. She returned the favor, nipping at his shoulder, kissing and touching whatever part of him she could reach.

Zach’s control didn’t last long.

Rebecca was watching his face, so she saw the moment when his eyes closed. He gritted his teeth and then groaned savagely as the pleasure flooded through him.

By then she was no longer watching him. Her eyelids had fallen closed as she threw back her head and gave in to the shudders of intense pleasure racking through her.

They lay together in that lovely bower for long moments afterward. Somehow, Rebecca knew Zach had never been here with Cynthia. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted to make love to her in the bedroom. She was glad, because here there was no ghost to intrude on their peace.

“We have to get dressed,” Rebecca said when she could breathe easily again. “We have to go to your mother’s party.”

“I hope you get pregnant soon,” he muttered.

Rebecca recoiled. Zach’s comment was like a glass of cold water in her face. It reminded her why he had married her, what one use he had for her, and the reason he had been so willing to make love to her. He wanted her pregnant. His expertise as a lover was a benefit to her, but her pleasure was not a primary reason for their coupling.

“I have to get dressed.” Her words came out sounding sharper, more barbed, than she had expected.

She stood and felt embarrassed suddenly to be still wearing her moccasins. She turned and fled.

Zach had felt Rebecca stiffen in his arms and wondered what he had done to offend her. He hadn’t intended to make love to her in such a frenzy, but once the idea had occurred to him, the need to touch her, to kiss her, to put himself inside her, had been overwhelming.

Instead of taking her to bed, where any sane man would have made love to his brand-new wife, he had carted her outside and laid her in the grass. No wonder she was upset. But he had realized, as he entered the bedroom carrying Rebecca in his arms, that he didn’t want to make love for the first time as man and wife in the bed where he had found Cynthia joined with another man.

He turned onto his stomach in the grass and laid his cheek on his folded arms. He hoped Rebecca was already pregnant. He didn’t want to get to know her any better—and he admitted he was curious about what kind of person she had turned out to be—until he was certain their relationship would be permanent. His
family weren’t the only ones who would suffer if there was a divorce. He knew it would be difficult to put experiences like this one behind him and forget Rebecca Littlewolf if she didn’t conceive his child.

Zach returned to the house through the kitchen door, because Rebecca had locked the sliding glass door and he didn’t want to cause a confrontation if he knocked and she refused to let him in. In the kitchen, he put back on his shirt, pants and boots, but left off his jacket and tie.