Regan's Pride (12 page)

The words shocked him. He looked down at the warm burden in his arms and felt them all the way to his heart. “Corrie!” he whispered.

Her eyes opened, dazed, helpless. “Is it really so shocking a thing to ask?” she asked miserably. “I know you don't want commitment. I won't ask anything of you, in case you're worried about that.”

He couldn't speak. He clasped her to his heart and rocked her, poleaxed, lost for words.

“Oh, Ted, don't you want a child?” she asked in a wobbly whisper. “I'd take ever such good care of him, or her. And you could come and visit when you wanted to…”

His eyes closed on a harsh groan, and for an instant his arms hurt her.

She bit her lower lip. He hadn't moved. Not a step. He just stood there holding her, cradling her. Probably feeling sorry for her as he realized the depths of her humiliation, she thought miserably. He didn't know what to do now.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, so that her pulse rate began to lessen a little. She didn't know how she was going to ever look him in the eye again. She'd humbled herself too far this time, gambled for stakes that suddenly seemed impossibly high. When would she ever learn?

“Please put me down now, Ted,” she said with the little bit of dignity she retained.

His mouth slid over her wet eyes and closed them. He didn't put her down. He moved toward the armchair and slowly dropped down into it, cradling her like treasure.

“Ted?” she repeated.

His cheek rubbed against hers as he searched blindly for her mouth. It was wet. But she couldn't think anymore, because he was kissing her. It felt very much like desperation, so urgent that she felt the bruising pressure of his mouth and arms like a brand.

Her hand went up to his lean face and traced its line from the temple. She touched his closed eye and felt
the moisture that drained from it. It took a minute to register, and then her eyes flew open and she pulled back from him.

His pale eyes were as wet as his cheek. He stared into hers without embarrassment, without subterfuge.

“Lie still,” he said roughly. He dealt with the disheveled fabric that only half concealed her and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His hand traced her bare breasts, lingering on the long scar across one, tenderly exploring her in a silence that blazed with hope.

He bent toward her and, with aching tenderness, drew his mouth over the length of the scar.

He nuzzled the hard nipple with his nose and then his mouth, testing its firmness until she gasped.

“Would it embarrass you to breast-feed a child?” he whispered then.

Hope flared through her like wildfire. “No!”

His mouth opened on her with gentle hunger. He arched her up to his ardent lips and held her there, in a bow. “I probably won't be as fertile as a young man,” he said gruffly. “It may take longer.”

She gasped, cradling his face to her. She trembled with joy as understanding dawned.

He buried his lips between her breasts and he kissed his way down to her waistline, where his mouth rested hungrily for a long time.

When he finally came up for air, he moved them both to the sofa, where he stretched out with an exhausted Corrie in his arms. His long legs tangled with hers intimately, casually, as if they'd lain together like this all their lives.

His head rested on a sofa pillow while hers lay over his heart and listened to its heavy, hard beat. Skin
against skin, breath against breath. The intimacy was as exciting as it was unexpected.

“Why did you stop?” she asked drowsily.

His hand smoothed down her back to her waist. “We aren't going to make our first child until we're married,” he said softly.

She stiffened. “But…but you said…”

He rolled her over onto her back and looked down into her wide, tender blue eyes hungrily. “I said that we could try to make a baby together,” he whispered. “I didn't say that I wanted our child to be illegitimate.”

“You don't want to get married.”

He kissed away the quick tears, smiling with cynical self-reproach. “No, I don't,” he agreed quietly. “I think you'll grow tired of me in time and wish you'd waited for a younger man to love. But I suppose I'll have to deal with that when the time comes.”

She searched his beloved face with eyes that worshiped it. “You'll have a very long wait,” she whispered. “I fell in love with you when I was barely twenty. I've loved you every day since. I'd give up my home, my self-respect, my honor…my very life for you.”

Dark color burned along his cheekbones. “Corrie…”

“It's all right, Ted. I know that you don't feel that way about me,” she continued with quiet dignity. “But maybe after the children are born and you grow to love them, you'll be happy.”

He was so choked with feeling that he could hardly speak. He touched her soft mouth lightly, searching for words. “It's so damned hard for me,” he began.

She put her fingers over his mouth with a soft sigh. “You don't have to say a thing.”

His pale eyes slid down her body and she winced.

“I'm sorry about the scar,” she said, looking at it. “Maybe it will fade.”

“Do you think I care?” he ground out.

She winced again at his tone. “Ted…”

“Your breasts are perfect,” he said flatly. “Scar or no scar. You're perfect to me. You always have been. Always!”

She didn't know how to answer that.

He ran a rough hand through his damp hair, looked down at her and groaned. “I can't handle any more of this without doing something about it,” he said huskily, and rolled away from her.

He got to his feet, walking away to the kitchen. He came back minutes later with a fresh pot of coffee. By then, Corrie had her clothing back in its former order and was trying not to meet his eyes.

He poured coffee, aware of her shy glances at his broad, bare chest.

“Like what you see?” he chided gently.

She glared at him. “You don't have to gloat.”

“Sure I do.” He chuckled. “It isn't every day that a woman offers herself up like a living sacrifice. Isn't that what they used to do with virgins in primitive times—offer them to some frightening monster as a deterrent?”

“You're not a monster,” she returned, lifting her coffee to her mouth. “And I'm not afraid of you.”

“I noticed,” he said dryly. He leaned back, sliding an affectionate arm around her shoulders to draw her to his chest again. He lifted his legs onto the coffee table and crossed them lazily. “Where do you want to be married?”

Her eyes darted up to his face. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Where?”

“Jacobsville, then. And Sandy can be maid of honor.”

“Since you're so keen on the Ballengers, I'll ask Calhoun to be best man.”

She didn't know if he was being sarcastic, but it sounded that way. She was quiet.

He tilted her chin. “You're like an open book to me,” he said solemnly. “I wasn't trying to sound cynical. Did I?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “You'll get used to me. A lot of times I say things in the heat of the moment that I don't really mean. I lose my temper sometimes when I shouldn't. I'm set in my ways.”

“I know.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Second thoughts, Corrie?”

She stared into her coffee cup. “I want to have your baby,” she whispered. “Ted, for heaven's…sake…!”

The coffee had gone everywhere, as if his hand had suddenly developed a huge spring. He muttered apologies and started grabbing for paper napkins to mop them both up.

“Don't say things like that to me when I've got a cupful of hot coffee, for God's sake!” he raged, glaring at her from his superior height. “Don't you know that it's taking every ounce of willpower I've got to sit here calmly with you when all I want to do is get you into the nearest bed!”

C
oreen flushed wildly at the stark exclamation. “Well, you don't have to make it sound like some sinful orgy, do you?”

“That's what it is,” he returned. “Sinful. Dangerous. Delicious. Forbidden.”

“You want it, too,” she accused.

“I want you,” he said heavily. “You! It never stops.” His eyes betrayed him, for once. “It never has and it never will.”

The confession made her breathless. She sat down, ignoring the coffee stains on the sofa, and stared up at him helplessly.

“Why don't you laugh?” he demanded. “Don't you feel entitled to rub my nose in it? I've given you enough hell over the years that you should feel vengeful.”

“All I feel is hungry,” she whispered. “I love you so
much, Ted,” she added on a shaky breath. “More than you could imagine in your wildest dreams.”

His face went hard. “Prove it. Marry me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed huskily.

“No protests? No postponements?”

She shook her head.

He nodded slowly. “All right.”

 

He left five minutes later. The next morning they were married by a nervous justice of the peace in Jacobsville, with a shocked and delighted Sandy for maid of honor and a highly amused Calhoun and Abby Ballenger for witnesses.

After the ceremony, everyone congratulated her and then Ted, and walked out arm in arm, speaking in incredulous whispers.

“Shell-shock,” Ted informed Coreen when they were back at the Victoria apartment two hours later. “They think I've lost my mind.”

“So do I,” she agreed.

He turned, his pale eyes possessive on his new wife in her neat white suit and pale pink blouse. There had been a pillbox hat with the ensemble and a white veil over it. Ted had lifted the veil to kiss her with brief affection in the justice of the peace's office.

“I want you,” he said roughly. “Right now.”

She flushed. She'd thought they might have a meal, go to a movie, do something together. Apparently this was his idea of togetherness, and perhaps the only sort he wanted with her.

“All…all right,” she said, taken aback.

He shepherded her into the bedroom, closed and
locked the door and took the phone off the hook. It wasn't even dark, and she was intimidated by the passion in his eyes and the urgency of his hands on her clothing.

“I won't hurt you,” he said unevenly as he divested her of jacket, blouse and skirt in short order. “I swear to God I won't. Just…bear with me, if you can.”

“Of course,” she said nervously.

He slid the rest of her clothing from her stiff body and lifted her gently onto the bed. His pale eyes wandered over her like loving hands, lingering, possessing until a muffled groan broke from his tight lips.

He sat down and pulled off his boots. Coreen turned her head away while he undressed, dreading her own inability to respond so quickly to him.

Scant minutes later, he pulled her into his arms and she felt the impact of his nudity against her like a long, hot brand. She gasped.

He broke her mouth open under his, and his hands began to smooth over her back in long, slow caresses. She felt his arousal against her smooth belly and stiffened.

“Open your eyes,” he said huskily. “Watch me while I take you.”

She flushed as she complied, her embarrassment plain in the eyes that watched him lever above her.

He coaxed her legs apart and eased between them. She felt him in total intimacy and was shocked into looking down. Her eyes widened and her body went rigid.

“So that's what you think,” he murmured gently, and smiled. He chuckled as he settled himself against her
and relaxed. “No,” he said. “Not quick. Not this time. I only want you to get used to the feel of me. But you'll beg me before you get me.”

She didn't understand. Not then. But fraught minutes later, after his mouth had explored every silken inch of her and then his hands had kindled sensations that had to be sinful because of their incredible stimulation, she did understand.

She was perspiring madly, shivering all over with a throbbing ache in her lower body that was new and frightening. And he kept the intimate contact between them, but when she lifted her hips to coax him into possession, he lifted free of her tempting pressure.

By the third time it happened, she was in tears. “Oh…please,” she sobbed, lifting to him in such a tense arch that her whole body shuddered with the strain. “Oh, please, it aches…so!”

“Aches,” he agreed huskily. “Burns. Throbs like a wound.” His lean hand slid up her thigh and caught it firmly. “Look, Corrie. Look!”

He pulled her up toward the hovering threat of his masculinity and slowly, tortuously, let his body ease into hers.

She gasped, shivering, at the feel of him. She was so aroused that the tiny hesitation her body caused him was only part of the miracle. She looked down and her eyes dilated feverishly as she saw them join.

Her rose flush mirrored his own fascination. None of his experiences had prepared him for the shock of her virginity, or its implications. He was her first lover. In spite of everything, he was the first.

His fingers dug into her soft thigh and he caught his breath. “My God,” he whispered, awed.

Her own eyes sought his then, wet with tears, wide with wonder.

His teeth clenched at the hot wave of pleasure that shot through him as he felt her take him completely. He met her eyes for a second before he groaned and lost control.

She felt the impact of his weight on her as he pressed her hungrily into the mattress, his hands under her hips, his muscular body suddenly dancing with hers in a rhythm that she felt to the soles of her feet.

“Match me,” he whispered urgently into her mouth. “Yes…yes! Take me…take all of me…take me, Corrie!”

She cried out as the deep, dragging pleasure suddenly spread over her like fire, throbbing, throbbing, throbbing!

He groaned harshly and his breath raked his throat as he gave in to the same madness that had her in its sweet grip. For endless, aching seconds, they shared the same soul.

His forehead was damp against her breasts. She felt her heartbeat, like an unsprung watch, shaking him in her clasping arms.

“I couldn't have waited one more minute,” he whispered harshly. “Years of waiting, years of holding you in my arms, only to wake at dawn and find you gone!” His arms tightened and his mouth moved hungrily against her body. “I've got you now. You're mine, and I'll never let you go!”

Coreen heard him, but it took a minute for the words to register. “Years?”

“Years.” He nuzzled his face against her soft breast. “Corrie, I haven't had a woman in almost three years,” he said heavily.

She went very still in his arms. “But…but all those photos in the gossip columns!”

“Window dressing,” he murmured with a harsh laugh. “I couldn't even feel desire for anyone else. You were all I wanted. Only you, Corrie.”

“But you let me marry Barry! You said…you said you didn't want me!”

His arms contracted. “I tried so hard to be noble,” he said, his voice tormented. “I wanted to spare you a husband so much older than you, whom you might regret marrying one day, don't you see? I had no idea, none at all, what a hell Barry would make of your life! I have even that on my conscience.” His voice went husky. “I loved you. Loved you more than honor. More than self-respect. More than my life.”

Her own words. Echoed. Felt. She closed her eyes and tears slid from them, burning her cheeks. She began to sob.

Vaguely she heard him gasp, felt his mouth taking away the tears, soothing away the pain. He eased over her, his body as gentle as his mouth, loving her with motions as tender as they were stimulating. Possessing her all over again, but with such love that she wept all through it, until the contractions began deep in her body and echoed in his, until they lay as close as two souls, straining together in the soft explosion of ecstasy that formed total communion.

He didn't move away afterward. He held her to him while he rolled over onto his back, sparing her his weight. But they were still joined, completely.

He drew in a shaken breath, feeling her so much a part of him that when he breathed, her body moved with him.

“It will be like this every time, now, when we love,” he said deeply, smoothing her back with lean, tender hands.

She smiled and kissed his damp chest. “When we love,” she echoed shakily. Her hands clung to him. “Don't ever let go.”

His arms enfolded her and he smiled with loving exhaustion. “Well…maybe just long enough to eat,” he murmured dryly. “Eventually.”

 

Sandy glowered at both of them when they told her, six weeks later, that she was going to be an aunt.

“It's positively indecent,” she muttered. “You've only been married six weeks today!”

Ted managed to look proud and sheepish all at once, his hand tight around Coreen's as she looked up at him with pure adoration.

“We're in a hurry,” he said.

“No kidding!” Sandy said sarcastically.

“I'm not getting any younger,” he continued, but without any traces of resentment or bitterness.

“And we did have in mind a baseball team,” Coreen lied, tongue-in-cheek.

Sandy burst out laughing and hugged them both. “Well, I'm very happy,” she confessed. “But what are people going to say?”

Actually they said very little. Mostly they grinned
at the inseparable newlyweds who were so obviously in love and offered double congratulations.

As Ted later told his beaming wife, it was mostly his pride that had kept him from proposing to her years ago. Now Regan's pride was his wife—and the child they would both welcome.