If Only (9 page)

“I’m so sorry,” she wailed, her voice trembling as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed his body tightly against hers.

“What on earth could you possibly be sorry for?” he questioned her, his voice full of love and compassion. His hands reassuringly framed the sides of her face as he nearly lost himself in the gorgeous green depths of her eyes.

Her face crumpled as she brought her hands up to cover herself, wiping away her tears. She cradled her head in her hands as she continued, “You just found out about your mom, and then I begin to act all hysterical.” She began gesturing wildly with her hands. “Like you don’t have enough on your mind right now. I’m an emotional wreck, and I hate that!”

Scott just sat there, grinning like a fool, loving her for being so concerned about him when she was the one riding an emotional roller coaster. She was trying so hard to stay strong for his sake, but her hormones were going crazy, she was becoming self-conscious about her appearance, and to top it all off, she couldn’t recall the first year of their marriage! She was obviously stressed out and completely overwhelmed, and his foul temper and stubbornness wasn’t doing anything to help the situation.

Bree scowled at him as she angrily wiped another tear away. “What are you smiling at?” she questioned.

He brushed his hand softly against her face, wiping her tears away with his fingertips. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“You are so full of it,” she retorted with a grin.

Without another word, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her gently onto the mattress, her back pressing against the coolness of the sheets. He reached out for her titian tresses, winding a few tendrils around his finger as he gazed down at her. “You are the prettiest, sexiest, most intelligent woman I have ever met,” he declared, his tongue stroking the inner curve of her ear. His hands wandered down the length of her long body before stopping to stroke the slight curve of her abdomen. He raised her pink sweater slowly, his mouth leaving a gentle rain of kisses down the bare expanse of her stomach. “I don’t care if you weigh one hundred pounds or one thousand, you are carrying my child, and that makes you even more beautiful to me.”

Bree grinned as tears began filling her eyes once again. She threw her hands up into the air in silent surrender. “Damn it,” she cursed. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, baby,” he stated as his lips caressed hers.

She groaned at the feeling of his lips on hers. If her husband kept this up, they’d be spending the entire day in bed. On second thought, that didn’t sound too bad. It didn’t sound too bad at all.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at her intently as he propped his dark head up against his arms. “What are you smiling about?” he questioned, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

She nibbled on her lower lip as she looked over at her husband with a mischievous smile on her face. “I was just thinking, instead of us going out in this freezing weather,” she proposed as she snuggled her body erotically against his, “we could just stay inside and try to find other ways of keeping ourselves warm.” At his suggestive wink, she laughed. “So, what do you think?” she asked with a flirtatious grin as she ran her fingertips playfully along the length of his collarbone.

To Bree’s chagrin, her husband chose that particular moment to roll ungracefully out of bed. He walked over to their bedroom door and removed his leather jacket from the doorknob. “Nice try, gorgeous, but I have the rest of our day planned.” Giving her a curious look, he continued, “Unless you’re planning to spend the entire day in that big, empty bed all by your lonesome.”

Releasing a frustrated groan, she grabbed one of the decorative pillows off the floor by their bed and aimed it directly at his stubborn head.

He clucked his tongue and pointed a single finger at her as he sidestepped the pillow and then left the comfort of their bedroom, his laughter ringing in her ears.

Chapter 6

Bree struggled to keep a straight face as her handsome husband attempted to ice skate. Attempted was the key word. She crossed her arms as she watched him. She shivered as a chill overcame her, and she buttoned her pale lavender coat, fastening the tiny pearl buttons. She blew on her hands before finally deciding to slip on her white gloves, which she had stuffed into the pockets of her coat earlier that morning. With her attention focused back on her husband, she couldn’t help but grin as Scott tried to approach her, his steps faltering like a child attempting to walk for the very first time. When he finally reached her, he was out of breath and his face was sweating, even in the coolness of the skating rink.

She closed her eyes, relishing the crisp smell of the ice and the fresh, fragrant scent of pine needles. She had always absolutely adored winter, and this year was no exception. As long as she could remember, this skating rink, a constant in her youth, had always been decorated like a winter wonderland, and once again, this childhood hometown haunt hadn’t disappointed her.

In one corner of the rink, out of the way of skaters, stood the largest pine tree she had ever seen. This enormous Christmas tree had its usual place of honor and was completely surrounded by presents of all shapes and sizes. Real presents, which were bought by residents of Mistletoe and would be donated to the local orphanage, hand-delivered by the owner of the rink, who without fail played Santa Claus for the children each year.

Every year, the tree was decorated in different colors, and the color theme continued with both the decorations and the wrapping paper on the presents. Obviously, this year the colors were blue and silver. Ornaments decorated every square inch of the tree, from simple ones with no adornments, to glitter ornaments with blue and silver winking at Bree as she stared in wonder. Silver bows had been hand-tied on almost every branch, and white icicle lights twinkled as she looked in amazement around the expanse of the rink. There was even a sprig or two of mistletoe scattered, hanging from the doorways and ceiling beams.

“Whose fool idea was it for us to go ice skating?” Scott grumbled in aggravation.

She grinned innocently as she raised herself onto her tiptoes and tilted her head up to kiss the tip of his nose. Just to show off, she circled him in her skates before she responded with a sweet smile, “I hate to break it to you, my darling, but you have no one to blame but yourself.” She shoved him playfully, but in her attempt to only tease him, she accidentally knocked him down. She brought one hand up to her mouth, trying to prevent herself from laughing, but she didn’t succeed. Her husband glared at her with annoyance as she laughed so hard she was afraid she would wet herself.

Scott wanted to be angry at his wife; he really did, because she deserved it after pulling that little stunt. Even if it wasn’t deliberate. The little imp had knocked him flat onto his back on the ice, and instead of helping him, she was standing there snickering at him!

After laughing until her sides began to hurt, Bree reached out her hands to him. Still chuckling, she pulled him to his feet only to find herself almost falling onto the ice.

Once he was back on his feet, he was chagrined to discover the seat of his jeans was soaked all the way through, which caused his wife to erupt into another fit of giggles. No matter how hard he fought it, he couldn’t seem to resist chortling right along with her. “You did that on purpose, you little minx!” he accused.

She shook her auburn head adamantly, unable to speak because she was still laughing so hard. She began wiping tears away as her chuckles began to subside. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t help but to giggle one last time, even as she was apologizing, which earned her another murderous glare from her husband.

“Truce?” she questioned, her eyes still dancing with merriment as she held out one of her hands to him.

Scott gazed at her and then grinned, his brown eyes softening. “Truce,” he agreed as he clasped his strong hand in her soft one. She giggled when he reached over and began nuzzling her neck.

Her fingertips stroked the curve of his hand, her emerald green eyes staring up at him. She pulled her body away from him, her hands still entwined with his.

His body gave a start when he realized she was beginning to skate, her body gently guiding him, her slender frame weaving in a slow and fluid movement.

She was surprised to feel Scott’s hands grasping the sides of her waist. She whirled around and couldn’t help but to laugh at the terrified expression on his handsome face. She reached behind her, her hands firmly clasping his as she led him along the long length of the ice rink. Bree grinned when his feet stumbled on the slippery ice, his hands tightening around her waist. She turned her head around to face him as she continued at a slow and steady pace across the ice. “Are you all right back there?” she asked with an impish grin.

The next thing she knew, her husband was falling, and he was pulling her down with him, their bodies landing in a tangled heap on the solid surface. She laughed as she landed right on top of him, her hips resting against a particular part of his anatomy. Her breath quickened as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against the tight fabric of her jeans. Placing one hand onto his muscled thigh, she murmured huskily, “Down, boy!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbled underneath his breath.

Bree grinned as she rolled her body off his, causing him to groan in tortured response. Standing up, she extended a hand out to him. Still grumbling, he reached out for her hand as she slowly pulled him to his feet. She beamed up at him as she began quickening her speed, increasing the distance between her and her husband. “I’ll race you to the end,” she challenged as she quickly moved to allow a group of teenage girls to pass them. She whirled around and while skating backward, she noticed he was struggling. With a huge smile on her face, she decreased the distance between them, just in time to see him make an ungraceful stumble, landing flat on his backside.

He looked up to find his wife snickering at him, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her obvious amusement. When she silently offered him her hand, he gave her a mischievous grin before giving her a sharp tug, sending her body sprawling right back onto his lap.

“Dirty pool!” she protested with a chuckle as she pulled playfully on his dark brown hair.

Scott gave her a wicked grin before his mouth covered hers, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. She groaned as her rose-colored lips parted, their tongues matching each other’s stroke for stroke.

“Well, if it isn’t Romeo and Juliet,” a familiar feminine voice drawled.

The voice broke through Bree’s consciousness, and she squealed when she suddenly realized it belonged to Scott’s older sister, Susan. Bree laughed out loud as she struggled to untangle herself from her husband’s strong grip. She was sitting awkwardly in his lap, and she could feel his obvious erection pressing against her backbone. Bree looked up at her husband innocently, a little too innocently, as she wiggled her backside against the strained fabric of his jeans.

She grinned with feminine satisfaction when she heard her husband’s sudden intake of breath, followed by a low curse.

Bree grabbed hold of Susan’s hand as she helped her to her feet, and then both women reached down to help Scott. She was anxious to hug the petite brunette when she immediately tensed, her entire body turning rigid.

Her warm and friendly smile quickly faded. Bree couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t even seem to breathe. Her chest constricted, her palms started sweating, and her vision became hazy. All she saw was red. Her green gaze darkened, her eyes narrowing into angry slits when she looked up and saw the tall blond man holding Susan’s hand.

A man who Bree wished she could forget…

A man who still haunted her worst nightmares…

A man whose extreme cruelty and severe violence made her sometimes fear her husband, the love of her life…

Susan Weston was clinging to the arm of Bree’s ex-husband, her olive eyes watching his each and every move with an obvious adoration that made Bree feel as though she was going to lose her breakfast.

Scott had immediately felt his wife tense. Her long, pale pink fingernails were digging into his muscled flesh, causing him to flinch involuntarily. His own discomfort was quickly forgotten, however, when he turned and saw the haunted look in his wife’s eyes.

Bree’s breath seemed to catch in her throat, ragged gasps escaping from her mouth erratically. One hand flew up to cover her mouth in horror, and her emerald green gaze grew huge with disbelief. She looked absolutely terrified, and Scott had no idea why.

Her legs were shaking beneath her as she struggled to remain standing, her fingernails grasping Scott’s leather bomber jacket in a death grip. Her long and slender legs, which normally skated with a familiar ease, were trembling as though she were only a novice on skates. She cursed herself beneath her breath, calling herself ten kinds of a fool. She should have known that eventually, Bryan Sexton would make an appearance and screw everything up.

*

Bryan Sexton’s midnight blue eyes examined the breathtaking redhead struggling to compose herself with obvious interest. He smirked, his lips twisting into a leer. As innocent as this exquisite creature may seem, Bryan knew immediately what was on her mind. It was the same thing that was on every woman’s mind where he was concerned. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. And why wouldn’t she? He was a wealthy, successful, and handsome man who had women throwing themselves at his feet. This breathtakingly beautiful bitch would be no different, he thought to himself with a cruel chuckle. She would soon be putty in his masterful hands. He would personally train her to fulfill his each and every fantasy. She would be bent to his will; the spirit he saw flashing in her gorgeous green eyes would soon be extinguished under his heavy hand. Bree Weston reminded him of a free-spirited horse; she needed to be broken. By the time he was through with her, she would be groveling at his feet.