Temporary Bride (7 page)

The door opened and Shane entered. His long wine robe
parted at the bottom as he walked, revealing no trace of pajamas
underneath. He smiled at Karen and sat down on the side of the bed as
he said, "Your things are being moved to the room across the hall and I
don't ever want to catch you in the servants' quarters again." She
started to protest that it could have waited till later but he hurried
on. "Mrs. Whitney insists she misunderstood my orders about how you
were to be treated and I confess I'm at a loss to understand why she
would do such a thing deliberately. She's been highly efficient in the
past so I told her we'd let it go this time, but I want to know
immediately if you have any more trouble with her."

Danny chose that moment to burp and Karen and Shane both
laughed as the baby raised his small head and looked around, perplexed
by the sudden attention. Karen cradled him again in the crook of her
arm and offered him the rest of the bottle, which he grabbed with both
waving hands and propelled expertly to his already open mouth. Karen
giggled and said, "If he weren't so fat I'd swear they never feed him
at home."

Shane lit a cigarette and watched her as she sat in the
shadows of the dimly lit room. For a while he didn't speak and when he
did his voice was husky.

"You're very good with babies, Karen. Do you plan to have
a family of your own someday?"

Karen nodded. "Oh, yes, a whole houseful, and I'm going to
stay home and take care of them. I don't want baby-sitters raising my
children."

"And who's going to father those children?"

There was a tremor in his voice that struck an answering
chord in her. It was a perfectly innocent question but the intimacy of
the setting, the nightclothes they were both wearing and the memory of
that kiss that had made her forget everything but his arms holding her,
his lips melting her very bones, made her blush and stammer,
"The—the man I love. I'd never give myself to a man I didn't
love with all my heart."

"And have you met this man yet?"

For a long time she didn't answer, and when she did it was
almost a whisper. "I don't know."

Over Shane's strenuous objections she had the portable
crib moved into her room and took charge of the infant for the rest of
the weekend. Shane introduced her to his other guests—all
business acquaintances—and insisted she join them. When Danny
was awake she kept him with her, depositing him on a blanket spread
over the thick carpet, where he gurgled happily. His parents seemed
content to let her do as she pleased as long as she didn't bother them
about him. When he slept she made regular trips upstairs to check on
him, and several times she caught both Shane and Mark watching her
comings and goings.

Mark was paired off with the redheaded daughter of one of
the older couples, who saw to it that he had no time alone with Karen.
Shane and Audrey were a duo, and apparently one of long standing, and
Karen's dinner partner was an elderly man who seemed pleased that she
was willing to listen to his memories of a long and happy marriage to a
wife who had recently died.

On Sunday the party moved to Carmel with its artists'
colony, galleries, and quaint little shops. Karen refused to go,
explaining to Shane that she had to stay home and take care of Danny.
Shane threatened to make the Tylers take care of their own baby but
Karen was adamant and they finally left without her. The group was gone
all day and returned only to pick up their luggage, and of course
Danny, and head back to San Francisco. Mark had ridden down with Shane,
and Audrey and they were the last to leave after seeing the others off.
Mark and Audrey had gone to pack her luggage in the car and Shane was
ushering Karen into the library for some last-minute instructions when
the telephone on the desk rang. Shane answered it and handed it to her.

"It's for you."

Karen's eyebrows raised in surprise. Who would be calling
her here? The voice was at first unfamiliar.

"Karen, this is Joe Voss with Valley Realty Company."

Recognition clicked. "Oh, yes, Mr. Voss—have you
sold my house yet? I really do need the money as soon as possible."

Shane looked interestedly at her as the voice hesitated
then answered. "No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I have bad news. Karen,
there's been a fire."

"A fire?" Karen felt the quickening of fear. "You mean at
my house?"

Shane moved toward her as the voice continued, "It must
have smoldered for hours before it broke out in full force. Honey, I'm
sorry—the house, garage, and everything in them is a total
loss. You have just enough insurance to cover the mortgages; there
won't be a cent left over!"

Karen stood rooted to the floor, her hand clutching the
telephone like a lifeline holding her above the quicksand that
threatened to pull her down and close over her. She swayed and Shane
was beside her, his arm supporting her against him as he gently took
the phone and spoke into it. She heard his voice but not the words.
Images formed in her mind of the six-room ranch house that had been
home to her all her life. The redwood and brick trimmed exterior, the
neat modern kitchen, her room with Raggedy Ann and Andy print curtains
and matching bedspread. And then her room with ballerinas on the
curtains and spread, and, finally, the same room with imitation French
Provincial white and gold furniture and curtains and a bedspread of
yellow dotted swiss. Her whole life had revolved around that room.
She'd studied everything from counting to calculus at the desk, had
girl friends over to spend the night with her in the double bed, and
curled up in the rocking chair to sob out her anguish when her mother
died and again when she lost her father. The house was her only legacy,
the bequest that would have kept her solvent until she could learn a
skill and earn a living.

Now it was gone, destroyed! She was left with no past and
no future—only a bleak and empty present.

But now there was Shane, his arms holding her, his fingers
gently caressing her, and his voice murmuring words of comfort. His
strength was a buffer against the shock and his warm, solid body
shielded and protected her. It was then that the tears came. Not gentle
and ladylike but great shuddering sobs that threatened to tear her
apart. Shane picked her up and carried her to the big leather chair,
where he sat down and cradled her on his lap, and she clung to him and
cried into his shoulder. Someone came in once and Shane spoke to him,
but she was too wrapped up in her own misery to notice.

Finally the storm subsided, the tears ran out, and she was
too exhausted by her raging emotions to do anything but lie against
Shane's comforting chest. His cheek rested against the top of her head
and he carefully wiped the moisture from her face with his thumb. It
was then that the door opened and Mark came in. He eyed Karen cuddled
in Shane's lap but spoke to Shane.

"Is she all right?"

Shane's eyebrows raised. "I thought I told you to take one
of the cars and drive Audrey back to San Francisco."

It must have been Mark who came in earlier when she was
too devastated to pay attention. Mark slumped down on the red velour
couch and said, "I put her in a car and told her to drive herself home.
I think I know what you're planning and I want to be here to protect
Karen's rights."

Shane stiffened. "You think she needs protection from me?"

Mark nodded grimly. "I do. I went along with this
harebrained scheme of yours because I thought you'd pick a woman as
hard and practical as you are. One who's selfish enough to put money
and her own creature comforts above everything else, but Karen's a lamb
being led to the slaughter and I'm not going to stand for it."

"What are you two talking about?" Karen asked.

Neither man paid the slightest attention to her question
as Shane, his voice cold and haughty, said to Mark, "You know I don't
have to stand for your insults."

"I know I could lose my job," Mark acknowledged. "I like
working for you but there are some things I won't be a party to. Fire
me if you must but I intend to represent Karen in this folly."

Now they definitely had Karen's attention and she sat up,
puzzled. "Represent me in what, Mark? Why do I need a lawyer? You mean
because my house burned down?"

Mark snorted. "No, I mean because of the proposition
Shane's about to put to you. That so-called job he advertised in the
paper."

Karen turned to look at Shane. "You mean you're going to
give me the job after all?"

Oh, please say yes! she pleaded silently. If he would just
let her work for him on a permanent basis her troubles would be over.
Why was Mark so against it? He knew how badly she needed the job and
still he fought against Shane giving it to her. If Shane thought she
could fill it what business was it of Mark's?

Shane's arms tightened around her waist as if he was
afraid she'd slide off his lap, but there was a hard finality in his
voice. "No, Karen, I am not going to give you the job and this
blundering idiot had no right to assume I would! I've told you over and
over again, that position is not for you. If I told you what it is you
wouldn't even want it—now forget it!"

Forget it! How
could
she forget it,
when it seemed to be her only option? What was it Shane wanted of the
woman he advertised for? Why was Mark in favor of it for someone else
but not for her? What was going on here anyway?

"But why, Shane?" she cried. "Why are you so sure I
couldn't do it? Why do you think I
wouldn't
do
it? Why won't you tell me what it is so I can make up my own mind? I'm
not a child and I have to find some way to support myself. When I leave
here I won't even have enough money to eat on."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, little one." Shane sighed with
exasperation. "I'm not going to let you starve! I'll send you to
school. Decide where you want to go and I'll pay for it as well as give
you an allowance while you're there."

Karen was stunned. "But why should you do that? I'm
nothing to you and I'm not a charity case. I won't take your money
unless I work for it!"

Shane swore and set her on her feet as he got up from the
chair and began pacing the room. "All right, damn it, I'll tell you
what the job is, but this is highly confidential and you are never to
breathe a word of it to anyone! Understand?"

She nodded, dumbfounded by his change of mind and his
vehemence. He stopped his pacing and looked at her. "I need a woman, a
stranger, who for a large sum of money will marry me and give me a
child." Karen gasped but he continued. "Once the child is born she must
agree to divorce me and give me sole custody of my son."

Karen stared, shock registered on her open mouth and in
her round, unblinking eyes. The man was out of his mind! Stark raving
mad! Why would a man like Shane, who could have any woman he wanted,
advertise for a wife?

He was standing there watching her, waiting for her
reaction, which wasn't long in coming. "You've got to be kidding!"

He shook his head. "I've never been more serious. I need
an heir to carry on the family business."

"But there must be dozens of women who would jump at the
chance to be your wife."

He uttered a short bitter laugh. "I don't want a
wife—just a woman with good breeding and background who will
give me a son."

"Then why marry her? Why don't you just pay her to have
your baby?"

"My son must be legitimate." His tone was harsh.

"Your moral concern is touching." Her voice dripped
sarcasm. "And how can you be so sure it will be a son?"

"Morals have nothing to do with it," he snapped. "I want
no legal clouding of the issue once the child is old enough to take
over the company. As to the sex of the baby, there hasn't been a girl
child in my father's family in over one hundred years, and since I'm
the one who 'decides' that issue…" He shrugged. "It's not
fool-proof, but it does make it more likely that any child of mine
would be a son."

Karen could see that she was no match for his verbal
sparring and turned to look at Mark, still seated on the sofa watching
them. "Mark, he's teasing isn't he? I don't think it's a bit funny. I
think it's beastly of both of you!"

Mark looked up and his eyes locked with hers. "No, Karen,
he's not teasing. That's exactly what he's advertising for, a woman who
can be bought and discarded."

Shane winced. "Oh, come off it, Mark! All she has to give
me is one year—maybe less if she's quick about
it—and then she's free and will be financially secure for the
rest of her life. It's a hell of a lot better than getting starry-eyed
over the local garage mechanic and wasting her youth having a baby
every other year and trying to make the paycheck stretch from one month
to the next."

Karen dropped back down in the leather chair, shattered by
his callous contempt. She knew she shouldn't ask the question forming
in her mind but she had to know. "Why do you hate women, Shane?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "Hate them? I don't hate
them. I'm very fond of them—ask anybody. I use them and they
use me and we get along just fine as long as I have the good sense not
to marry one and expect the marriage to be happy and long lasting."

Karen shifted miserably in the chair. Shane was right, she
wouldn't accept the position if it were offered.

Mark was the first to break the shocked silence. He'd
been watching Karen and his voice was soft as he spoke. "You look as
though you'd lost your last friend, honey. You haven't, you know. You
still have me." He stood and walked over to her. "You need to get away
from here for a while, try to forget the things that have happened
today. Come on. Go wash that pretty little tear-ravaged face and I'll
take you out to dinner and a movie."