Lies of the Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Laurie Leclair

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Lies of the Heart
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“Why you—”

But Tessa tuned her granny out as shock raced through her veins, turning her cold. Chance had been married! She’d never known, never suspected. He was a stranger to her. Twisting to look at him fully, she encountered his grim expression.

“You’ve been married before?” The high squeak that passed as her voice ripped through the church.

He stiffened. His features seemed as if they’d been chiseled out of granite. Only the muscle jumping along his jaw moved. His eyes turned a dangerous steel gray, making her swallow hard. “Don’t worry, the divorce is perfectly legal. The papers were signed, sealed, and delivered years ago. She made damn sure of it.” Ice dripped from his words. But she knew it masked deep, bone-scarring pain.

Feeling cold all of a sudden, she turned away from him, pulling her hand free. She looked blindly over the minister’s shoulder. From what Chance hadn’t said she gathered he hadn’t wanted the marriage to end. Was he still in love with his first wife? Her heart clutched in her chest. Blinking back the gathering moisture, Tessa blew out a long, slow breath. Six short months, that’s all he’d signed up for. And that’s all she could ever expect from him. She knew that now, had always known it deep down inside. But she had hoped…

This time he was the one to grab her hand, wrapping his larger one around her icy fingers and squeezing hard. That small measure of comfort plucked her heartstrings. If only they weren’t who they were.

“They should lock him up and throw away the key,” Granny muttered too loudly. “The things he did to this town, to me!”

Chance sighed, and then leaned near Tessa and whispered in her ear, “It’s going to get ugly, fast, sunshine. What do you say we speed this guy up?”

His warm breath fanned along her skin, sending goose bumps tripping right after. She shivered, and then nodded. Facing the minister, she said, “Ah…perhaps we can skip this part and move on to the more important parts—”

“Before it’s too late,” Chance added.

Relief washed over Reverend Duffy’s full features. “Oh, bless you,” he gushed, hurriedly flipping through pages of the booklet he held in his chubby, trembling hands. “Ah…the rings.” He slapped his pockets, feeling for them, and then fished both out of his inside pocket.

Tessa turned to Bree, handing her overflowing bouquet of creamy-white roses to her. Before facing forward again, she exchanged meaningful looks with both her friends, and then rolled her eyes heavenward. Smiles replaced the worried looks for a second.

Twisting back, she caught the glittery sparkle from the band Chance held. “With this ring I thee wed,” he repeated the minister’s words, and then slipped the ring on her finger.

She sucked in a breath. Tears smarted the backs of her eyes as she stared down at the slim gold ring consisting of two delicately entwined bands. Wonder rushed through her; it wasn’t a plain, simple piece of jewelry as she expected a six-month union warranted. Jerking her gaze to his, she frowned. Gone was the dark, foreboding look. She welcomed the change. “But…”

There in the smoky-gray penetrating stare she thought she read something so sweet, so dear that she hesitated to believe it could be true.

“Connected. Forever.” His voice was even huskier than usual. And she knew that what she thought she’d seen was indeed true. No matter what, or where they ended up, there would always be this deep, everlasting connection between them. And no matter where they’d been or whom they’d been with, there always had been. Her heart swelled. She hadn’t ever been alone.

“I’d never had agreed to this if the town wouldn’t be well rid of the likes of the pair of you in a few months.” Granny’s words stopped the minister in mid-sentence.

Breaking away from Chance’s searing look, Tessa reached over and patted the minister on the arm. “Don’t mind her. Just go on, please.”

In the next moment, she placed a thick gold band on Chance’s finger. A part of her cherished this, knowing she’d longed for this moment for years and never really thinking it could ever happen. Another part of her quaked at what would come after this: more fighting between the families, tug of war for loyalties, heartache in the end.

A shrill chortle from behind and to the left of Tessa made her cringe. Mrs. Deveraux calmed down enough to say, “I heard he hoodwinked you into accepting the conditions. You bet him! How funny is that?”

This time Chance winced and was the one to say, “Uh oh.”

Reverend Duffy tugged at his navy blue tie, trying to loosen the knot. He stumbled over several passages, and then said, “If there’s anyone here who feels these two shall not be united—”

“No, not that part,” Tessa interrupted, jumping in quickly.

Too late. Her granny shouted out, “Of course we object, you idiot! Who in their right mind would think that a marriage between a Warfield and Deveraux would ever work? For land’s sake that fool was out of his mind when he made that will of his and we all know it!”

Shocked at the vicious outburst, Tessa twirled around just in time to see Mrs. Deveraux jump up and charge at granny. “How dear you say such a thing about my husband.”

Chance moved, heading toward the two ladies. But Tessa held him back once she saw her friends rush in quickly and restrain the pair. It helped that Bree’s husband, Nick, was wearing his state trooper uniform today, ready to leave for duty after the ceremony.

With her hand clutching his arm, she said, “Wait, Chance, let’s get on with this, then we’ll deal with them later.”

His muscles bunched under her palm, and then finally relaxed. Turning to the minister, he said, “Skip to the end and we’ll wrap this up.”

“But, they’re still yelling.” He jerked his chin to the ruckus and loud name-calling.

“Ignore them,” Chance said wearily. “They haven’t spoken for years now, so they have a lot to catch up on.”

Tessa chuckled. “And then some.” When he gazed at her, the frown lines smoothed and the tension fizzled out of him. Heat sprang from deep within her middle, searing her. Suddenly, it was only the two of them. The bickering seemed more like an annoying buzz now. Tessa’s breaths quickened as the chill left his eyes and only a bright shining light remained.

“Ah…” the minister stammered. He finished the rest in a rush. “Now you may kiss the bride.” He paused, and then said, “Phew!”

Chance’s stare captured hers. The air seemed to thicken noticeably. “I’ve waited so long to do this,” he said softly. His whisky-husky voice sent tiny thrills down her spine.

She dropped her gaze to his lips, wondering if they’d taste as good as she’d dreamed they did. He cupped her face in his palms. The heat of his skin scorched her flesh and the tenderness of his touch branded her soul. Slowly he moved closer, his mouth only a fraction of an inch from hers.

Finally, he touched hers. A gasp escaped her at the unexpected softness. With a reverence she’d never known he possessed, he feathered his lips over hers, tasting, nibbling, and then settled on hers.

Reaching out blindly, she grabbed the front of his jacket, gripping tightly for balance. Her head swam with the sweetness of him. Years before while playing spin the bottle he’d taken delicate, experimental kisses. But this time, this time was so different. It was as if he treasured the experience, savored it.

She moaned. Or was it him? She couldn’t be certain. The feel of his thumbs trailing over her cheeks and his firm lips gliding back and forth over hers made her want more of his touch and taste. The fresh scent of him filled her senses, intoxicating her. With each moment that passed, she longed for more of the same. If anyone could become addicted to a man, then she could to Chance Deveraux.

Little by little, she became aware of him drawing away and the verbal attacks changing. A sudden scream, and then a collective gasp rose, dragging her completely out of her dazed wonder.

She leaned on Chance as she twisted to the spectacle behind them. When she spotted her granny lying on a pew she shoved Chance’s arms away. Picking up her long dress, she rushed to her granny’s side. Coming face to face with Mrs. Deveraux, she asked, “What the hell did you do to her?”

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

Chance tossed in the slim twin bed. His weary, sleep-deprived body ached all over and his feet hung over the bottom of the mattress. Turning on his side, he blew out a hot breath, and then punched the pillow. A waft of lavender floated up out of the folds of the bed linens. An ache shot through him.

“Christ, some wedding night,” he muttered between clenched teeth. “Sleeping in my wife’s girlhood bed and, for the most part, without her.”

A sliver of light came from the slightly cracked door. Down the hall Tessa tended to her granny. The old woman had rung that shrill bell dozens of times since they’d all retired for the night. Poor, sweet Tessa had been jumping up and down for hours now.

The muffled voices trailed off and the light suddenly disappeared. Darkness shrouded the house. Chance heard the whispery steps of his wife coming his way. Something low and deep tightened inside him. Just the thought of lying next to her again brought all his senses clamoring awake.

Gulping hard, he tried to will his heartbeat to stop thundering in his chest. “No such luck.” Anticipation hummed along his veins.

As she nudged the door open more, it creaked loudly. Next her shadowy figure stole into the room as well as his heart. Just the sight of her slumped shoulders tore a hole through him. Exhaustion dogged her heels.

“Come here, sunshine,” he said, flipping back the covers for her.

In a few strides, she came to him, and then sank down on the side of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her and pulled him closer to her. He shifted, allowing her more room. Slowly, she seemed to just drop down, her head hitting the pillow beside him.

A soft groan escaped her and tugged at his conscience. How in the world could he think of himself when she had been run ragged by her own grandmother? He swore silently, and then helped her swing her legs up to the bed. Tucking the blanket around her, he gently gathered her close. In the back of her throat she made a weak protest.

“Shhh, now. Just relax and get some sleep, honey.” Her sigh said it all as the tension in her slipped away and she snuggled closer to him. The feel of her against him seared him. But her cold skin drew overwhelming concern for her welfare. He rubbed her arm, side, and hip through the thin material of her large nightshirt. Next, he wrapped his leg over hers, his foot resting on her icy ones.

He bit back on a moan as she wiggled into him. Tenderly, he brushed back her hair, the springy curls so soft and smelling just like warmth and sunshine to him. He pressed his cheek against her head, whispering in her ear, “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m going to take good care of you.”
Don’t let me fail her, too. Not Tessa.

In his soul, he vowed never to hurt her; she’d been hurt enough. For so long her grandmother had kept her isolated and at her beck and call. Tonight hammered the last home with stunning clarity. After the doctor had been called earlier in the day, he’d declared her fine. But that hadn’t stopped her from twisting poor Tessa in knots by her pitiful complaining. So much so that they’d canceled the reception, wedding night, and honeymoon. Old lady Warfield had gotten her way.

“Not for too much longer, sunshine. I promise you that. She’s going to have to understand you have to make a life of your own…with me.” The last came out raw and filled with hunger.

“Starting tomorrow, you’re mine,” he said fiercely, knowing drastic measures had to be taken and soon.

With that thought uppermost in his mind, he drifted off. The erotic dream began almost the moment he closed his eyes.

Tessa, warm, willing and with open arms beckoned to him. Her mischievous smile lit up her face and reached her twinkling green eyes. They held a hidden secret, one he longed to discover.

He went to her then, folding her silky bare skin in his arms. Gasping, he luxuriated in the feel of her soft, full breasts pressed into his rock hard chest. “Feels so good,” she whispered, her voice coming from far away. “More, Chance, more.”

But she was the one to fulfill her own wishes; she moved out of his arms and around him, never breaking contact. She performed some erotic dance where she made him stand still while she slide her naked body over his. Hot, satiny skin caressed every inch of him. He quivered.

She made her way to the front of him and slithered lower. Her hardened nipples trailed a path down his chest, middle, and then his hips. He sucked in a sharp breath as she came to the pulsating center of him. Shifting, she captured him in her cleavage. His body jerked in response.

Chance came fully awake. Beads of perspiration bathed him. Tessa lay in front of him sleeping soundly. He stilled, knowing the dream hadn’t torn him from sleep. Instantly, he heard it. The bell rung loudly.

Cursing under his breath, he leaned his head back on the pillow he shared with Tessa. She remained motionless. The sharp piercing tinkling of that damn bell ripped through the silent night once again.

Rising on his elbow, he looked down at his wife. She was even more beautiful with her red curls splayed out and the soft pink blush of sleep tinting her cheeks. Her long lashes rested against her alabaster skin. And her slightly parted peach-colored lips begged for him to lower his head and take them, suckling the sweet nectar once again.

The noise increased to a clanking as he fought himself on stealing that kiss from Tessa. He gave up, knowing he couldn’t wake her for his own needs or the demands of her granny.

Carefully, he extracted himself from the luscious body of his wife, climbed over her, and then once he got both feet on the cold, wooden floor he covered her up.

Dragging on his jeans, he cussed out the woman who’d nearly ruined his day, but who’d certainly ruined his night. “Damn, interfering biddy,” he muttered as he made his way out the door, snatching up a shirt from a nearby chair.

The light from her open door spilled into the hallway. He followed it, tugging on the black sweatshirt. With each step, his middle clutched. When he reached the threshold of her room, he halted seeing her propped up in her large, four-poster bed with stacks of pillows behind her. The huge bed nearly swallowed her tiny frame whole.

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