Twins times two! (11 page)

Team? He had a security team?

Ross opened his door, and Cara slid out of the car before he had time to round the car and help her.

The time had come for her to begin her new life as Ross's wife.

I

Chapter Eight

Wordlessly Ross motioned for her to precede him into the house.

Cara made her way through the mudroom to the kitchen, relying on her memory of her first night in Ross's home.

Has it really only been a week?

Unsure how to proceed once she was inside, Cara paused near the gleaming table and bit her Up, nervously wondering what to do next.

Ross, on the other hand, seemed to have no such qualms. He dropped his keys in a silver bowl on the counter, then leafed through a pile of waiting mail.

Cara waited in silence, wondering if it would be presumptuous of her to begin unpacking her things.

But then, she didn't know where she would be staying. Or if she'd be sleeping alone.

"You'll have to tell me how you want to work with the nanny in the coming months."

Finally, a subject on which she felt comfortable offering her views.

"I don't want a nanny at all," she stated firmly.

Ross paused in the midst of reading a letter, peering at her from beneath a creased brow. "I'm afraid I'll have to insist that you keep her with you at least part-time."

Cara bristled. "Why? I thought you liked the way I handle my own children. I thought that was one of the reasons for this marriage."

"It is. But you've also just inherited another set of children—making it much like having three-year-old quadruplets running around the house. I asked you to be my wife, not my slave. I know from my own experience that the twins can be a handful. It's going to be even more complicated with four of them."

"But you've already got a butler and a housekeeper. It's not as if I'd be running the household single-handedly."

"No, but you also need some time to pursue your own interests, as well as your work with the Mom Squad—or am I wrong in thinking you wanted to continue working?"

"Of course I do."

"Then the nanny stays." He dropped the mail

on the counter and began working at the knot of his tie. "I've also set up a checking account—"

"No. I won't take money from you."

He sighed. "You didn't let me finish."

Cara opened her mouth to reiterate her refusal. She wouldn't take money from him. It would be too much like being a... a kept woman.

A nervous laugh nearly burst from her lips. A "kept" woman? Did anyone even use such a term anymore?

But before she could form a scathing reply, Ross continued.

"I've arranged a checking account with enough money in it each month to take care of the bills and household expenses. I'd appreciate it if you would take over the responsibilities of seeing they get paid. After all, you're a qualified CPA with more than enough experience handling the Mom Squad's finances."

Some of her anger drained away when she realized that he meant to include her in family matters. Inexplicably his suggestion touched her more that he would ever know. Her first husband hadn't trusted her with such a responsibility. She hadn't even known her husband's true income until divorce proceedings had begun.

"You'll need to give me an itemized budget," Cara said.

He shook his head. "This isn't a business, it's a family. If you need more money, you can go to our bank and arrange for the automatic deposit to be increased. If you have money left over, then you can keep it, spend it, or save it—whatever you think best."

Cara wanted to object, but he was being so reasonable, she knew that any arguments she might offer would simply sound childish.

"Is that system agreeable to you?"

"Yes, of course." But her voice was tight.

"I'll also give you the numbers of our other accounts and investments." He dropped the mail on the counter. "I've got life insurance, but we'll need to arrange coverage for you, as well. In any event, I want it clear from the beginning that what I have is yours."

Ross ripped his tie loose and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a large vee of healthy, tanned flesh. Cara's gaze fixed there. The knot of need inside her tightened.

When she looked up, it was to find Ross watching her closely.

"Come with me," he said, his voice low and silky. "I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Ross led Cara up the ornately carved staircase. Once again she was reminded of that first night she had come to Ross's house. That night she had been

awed by her surroundings and completely unaware of the rush of events that would take her by storm the minute Ross opened the nursery door.

This time Cara gazed around her with new eyes, knowing that Ross's castle was to be her home, as well.

Home? She shivered. She didn't know if she could ever feel comfortable in a house that was so large, so steeped in luxury, so...stark and cold.

Cara had always been a person who liked to "nest." She liked soft colors, overstuffed furniture, fluffy rugs, fresh flowers. In the past she had always strived for a sense of coziness in her surroundings. She'd felt it was important that a person feel as if she could take off her shoes and relax the moment she'd crossed the threshold.

Something would have to be done to Ross's home, that much was clear to her. If she was going to live here, she had to make at least one room an oasis of beauty so she could feel at ease. But she didn't know if she dared do anything so mundane as add color, pattern and texture to a room in Ross's house. Ross had probably spent a fortune in decorating fees to obtain its current look. After all, the castle was a showplace—the kind of home where one entertained.

Or courted royalty. In truth, she would have been less surprised to see Robin Hood and Maid

Marian suddenly appear, than someone padding down the hall in stocking feet.

"I hope this meets with your approval."

Ross stopped at a set of double doors opposite the nursery, and her heart thumped in her chest.

"I thought you might want to be close to the children—especially while your own twins are settling in."

"Y-yes. That would be nice."

Her fingers unconsciously pleated the ribbon of the bouquet she still held. Was she about to discover that Ross also shared the same room? After all, they'd just promised to spend a lifetime together. It wouldn't be too much to ask that they share the same bedroom, even platonically.

"I'll leave you here to change. In the meantime I'll get out of my own suit and meet you downstairs."

"Sure." The word was a bare puff of sound. To her infinite relief she watched Ross move away and disappear into a room at the end of the corridor.

So he didn't expect her to share a bed with him.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Cara opened the door to the bedroom, then stared. The suite was huge. Huge and ornate and...

"Positively medieval," she murmured, stepping inside, closing the door again and resting her back against the carved panels.

Stark-white walls stretched up and up to a vaulted ceiling edged in ornately carved wood. A four-poster bed complete with a richly embroidered canopy and coverlet had been positioned against one wall, while at the other was a small sitting room. Directly opposite the door was a huge bay window complete with multicolored mullioned panes.

Kicking her shoes off, Cara set the bouquet on a mahogany table and shrugged out of her jacket. An investigation of the other two doors revealed a walk-in closet larger than her previous bedroom and a bathroom complete with a Roman-orgy-size tub, a separate shower and a full dressing area.

"Welcome to the lives of the rich and shameless," she whispered, then paused when she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror.

"What have you done, Cara m'girl?" she asked softly, repeating the often used phrase her older brother would ask whenever he sensed she'd been up to no good.

But on the heels of that thought came a fierce certainty that she'd done the right thing. She couldn't have competed against a man like this. Not in a million years. She had only to look around her at this house to realize that Ross Gifford had all the necessary tools to get what he wanted. If

he'd decided to take Zoe away, a simple CPA wouldn't have been able to stop him.

Her chin tilted defiantly. Which meant that she'd made her decision and she would stick by it. One way or another, she would find a way to make the best of this situation. She might not feel comfortable in his house—or even his life—for the time being. But she could change that. It wasn't as if she were a total stranger to the better things life could offer. She'd rubbed shoulders with the wealthy during her brief marriage to Elliot.

But she was soon beginning to realize that Elliot's wealth was nothing compared to Ross's. She would have to be on her best behavior with Ross's friends and associates.

The moment the thought popped into her head, she grew still. No. She'd played that game with Elliot—trying to mold herself into the woman she thought he wanted so that he would be happy. In doing so, she'd lost more and more of her own identity and self-worth.

Ross Gifford had known what she was before he married her—a simple person with simple tastes. She would be herself around him, damn it. And if he didn't like it, then he could.. .he could...

Find someone else? Like Elliot had done?

Groaning, she marched into the closet, intent on finding her things. She refused to think any more

about the marriage or her role as Ross's wife. If she wanted to keep her sanity, she would need to concentrate on the here and now and not the what-ifs of the future.

Cara quickly found that all of her belongings had been neatly hung on the closet rods or placed in the drawers underneath. Everything had been sorted according to function, style and color with such precision that Cara wondered who was responsible. Was it Stibbs who had been so attentive or the unknown housekeeper and her staff?

Sighing, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, noting to her dismay that both of them had been religiously pressed. In her opinion there was something sad about comfort clothes that had been ironed.

A few minutes later she emerged from her room, her clothes changed, her feet encased in a pair of sneakers and her face washed and sporting only a bare minimum of makeup. If a stand was going to be made regarding her personal preferences, she might as well begin now.

Hearing Ross's voice coming from the front of the house, she jogged down the stairs, her fingers lightly tracing the carved banister. Then she followed Ross's low tones until she reached what looked like a sunroom. Except for the nursery, it was the most casual room she'd seen yet in Ross's

house. A large, round, wrought-iron table was surrounded by potted plants and trellises covered with clematis. A whole series of floor-to-ceiling French doors opened onto a brick terrace.

Seeing her, Ross terminated his call. He had changed from his charcoal-colored suit, but still wore a pair of tailored trousers and a dark polo shirt. He looked ready for a round of golf at an expensive country club.

"Do you play golf?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes, why?"

"Just wondering." Sliding her fingers into her hip pockets, she turned to stare at the room around her. Once again, except for the plants, the room was decorated in a stark grayish-white. "I never cared for the game, personally," she said, her words nearly a dare.

"Why is that?"

"I couldn't see the sense in paying money to chase a little ball around with a stick."

Ross's lips twitched, but not enough to actually become a smile. "There are some who would say that the fun of the game comes from just such a challenge."

"I suppose."

"The pizza should be here any minute."

Cara stiffened. "I thought we were going out."

"Rush hour traffic will be reaching its height

about now, so I figured we might as well have our food delivered and save ourselves some time."

"Sure." Her voice was casual, but inside she was a mass of jangling nerves again. She'd been counting on the noise and bustle of a pizza parlor to cover the awkward silences. Instead she and Ross would be eating alone.

Belatedly Cara realized that Ross hadn't even asked her what kind of toppings she wanted on her pizza. With her luck, he'd probably ordered from a gourmet restaurant and she was about to be fed an exotic concoction of goat cheese and roasted pine nuts.

She was going to have to teach this man to relax.

No. It wasn't her place to change Ross any more than she wanted to him to change her. But she wished there could be a way to help erase the grief from deep in his eyes.

Silence fell around them, and Cara scrambled for something to say to fill the void. Heaven only knew that her own thoughts were far too dangerous for her to dwell on them.

''You've made arrangements for the twins to meet each other tomorrow?"

Ross nodded. "Polly will bring Heidi and Zoe to meet us at the park, then Mrs. Graves will arrive a few minutes later with Becca and Brianne."

Cara hadn't been surprised when Ross had

checked with a renowned child psychologist to decide how best to reunite the children. They had been told to choose a "neutral" location where the twins could explore one another much as they would any other curiosity.

"How do you think they'll react?"

Cara's fingers worried the bottom of her shirt, and Ross moved forward to take her hand. "They'll be fine. The hard part is over."

Over? Why did Cara think that the challenges had only now begun?

Ross laced his fingers through hers. "You worry too much."

"I can't help it. I keep thinking that we should have taken things more slowly."

"To what end?"

"Maybe we should have let them get used to the idea of us marrying."

"We both agreed that it would be better to handle all of the changes at once and then settle them into a normal, reassuring routine."

"I know, but—"

Ross laid a finger over her mouth. "It's done. Don't worry so much about what could have happened, what should have happened. Life doesn't work that way."

She shivered when he bent toward her, his eyes darkening.

"Life rarely offers us any guarantees, only surprises," Ross whispered against her lips.

Then he was kissing her, his lips warm and intent, his body hard and warm. Cara moaned as the passion flared between them in the space of a heartbeat.

At least we have this, she thought. Their relationship might be unconventional, but they had the building blocks to make something more of it— mutual respect, a love for their children. And this...

Without even thinking, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rose on tiptoe, allowing him to kiss her again and again and again.